Reign of Beasts (Creature Court) - By Tansy Rayner Roberts Page 0,2

and new costumes this winter, so shut the fuck up about it.’

There was plenty of salt tossed around backstage to keep what luck we had left all in the right places.

We started with the cabaret of monsters, us lambs peering through our masks as we sang, trying to make sense of our audience of one. His Lordship sat smack in the middle of the dress circle and watched us hard, like a cormorant waiting to snatch a fish out of the water. He sat through all four acts and never clapped once. We did pretty well, I thought, though Adriane was so nervous she tripped over her pearl-crusted hem and sang half her notes too thin. Madalena did her best with her smaller part as Mother Sospita, with only half a song and a dozen lines to speak. At least the stagemaster had the grace not to push the role of Ires the Crone on her.

At the end, when we were all arrayed on stage waiting for some sign of approval, his Lordship stood up and leaned over the balcony. ‘Do it again,’ he said in a chilly voice. ‘Only this time, the one with the voice will play the Angel.’ He pointed directly at Madalena. Adriane looked as if she had been slapped. His Lordship turned and climbed the next set of stairs to the gods, the seats so high that we rarely sold them out. Those who liked a cheap ticket preferred the pit, where they had to stand but at least they could see whether the tumblers were coves or demmes. He sat up there, chin in hand, as we went through the entire performance again, act by act. Madalena sang her heart out, the performance of her life, every gesture aimed skywards at her handsome benefactor.

Days after that, we learned the true story of what his Lordship wanted of us. We were going to Aufleur. To this day I don’t know how much his Lordship paid, but I know it was enough to make the stagemaster sweat and stutter like it was his first audition as he explained it to us.

The Lord had hired us, every mime and painted prop. For the first time in twenty-five years there would be no Saturnalia revue at the Mermaid in Oyster. Instead, we were to perform at a theatre in the city, a city so large that most of us could barely imagine it. A private performance.

Instead, we were taking the show to Aufleur.

Madalena was beside herself with excitement. She queened it over the masks and columbines, secure once more as the stellar of the company. Adriane made several visits to the stagemaster but he wouldn’t budge. The Lord’s coin pouch meant more to him than anything she kept in her cotton knickers.

I’d never been on a train before, nor had the other lambs. Me and Kip and Benny and Ruby-Red and Liv spent the whole journey staring out the windows, dizzy with the strangeness of being outside Oyster, let loose in the world.

We piled off at the other end, staring at the sight before us, the high dark buildings and domes, the finery of it all. Aufleur. The big city.

The Vittorina Royale had been a fine theatre once, there was no doubting that. But it had been abandoned for years. I still remember the crestfallen look on Madalena’s face when she realised the grand city stage she had been imagining was just as old and rundown as the Mermaid. But then we walked inside, through the house, and Benny tugged my arm, pointing up at the ceiling. I swear I stopped breathing for a moment — I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life. The ceiling was all mirrors and gilded saints, and when the lanterns were lit it gleamed above the stage like a sky full of stars.

‘She may be getting on in years, but she’s a queen worthy of the best,’ his Lordship said, and Madalena simpered at his words.

I suppose you’ve noticed I never named him. Back in Oyster he’d told us he was ‘Lord Saturn’ — the same as the saint of revels. Seemed unlikely, but no one in theatre has the name they were born with.

‘Where’s your bean crown, then?’ Ruby-Red had asked him cheekily.

‘Left it in my other coat,’ he’d replied, pulling a face and making the young ones laugh. Such a quick tongue, that one.

We moved into the Vittorina, making her our own, figuring out the ropes and tunnels and

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