‘Poor doesn’t even cover the half of it. We were massively in debt – we couldn’t even afford the rent on our tiny little apartments at the time, let alone this place.’
‘Do you have any evidence of these assertions? Forgive me for asking, but it seems remarkably unlikely and, as you say yourself, the king will deny such occurrences. Where is your proof ?’
With her free hand she gestured to the room around her. ‘This place. How in Tryum d’you think we could afford to live somewhere like this? We’re not renting any more – this is ours.’
‘Licintius’ money paid for this building,’ I said.
‘And the rest,’ Clydia said. ‘For a small time we dined like kings and queens. Well, not quite, but we had mushrooms and pheasants at least. He wanted actors to enjoy a little luxury so that they “might refine their craft free of worries”. It meant we could finally perform the plays that we wanted.’
I absorbed what she had told us and contemplated this large house in one of the poorest districts of the city. It seemed so unlikely, yet here we were. The only other possibility of them owning such a place is that they were operating criminal activity on the side, yet there were none of the rough types on standby for protection, none of the questionable social circles that build up around it. At the moment, there was just one girl.
‘Where is the rest of the Skull and Jasmine troupe?’ I asked. ‘I’d like to speak to them.’
‘Upstairs asleep. Same as I was before you arrived.’
‘It’s midday,’ I observed.
‘What’s your point?’
It appeared her spirited half was about to return, so I decided to ask her about what happened the night of Lacanta’s murder at Optryx, all the while scanning her face for signs of evasiveness.
Clydia spoke calmly, clearly and with a surprising amount of detail, all of which matched up with what had been put forward in the written statements of the guests that night. She discussed the play they were putting on, a rendition of ‘The Gods and their Conquests’, an old play that dated back to the beginnings of the Detratan Empire hundreds of years ago. It was the king’s choice that they perform this particular piece, as it would highlight the importance of Maxant’s own triumphant conquests in Mauland.
As for the murder of Lacanta, Clydia explained they had not been in a position to see the Temple of Trymus; the play was conducted in a private outdoor theatre within the grounds of Optryx – one of the most beautiful places Clydia had ever performed in.
I asked her whether or not all the actors were present in the same place all night, but she explained that they’d mingled with the party guests – much to the disgust of some of the senators. She gave a smile at that last point. All in all, there was nothing in her statement that didn’t tally with what we already knew, nothing to suggest she was lying and, unfortunately, nothing to suggest she knew anything of value concerning Lacanta’s killing.
‘Who’s the leader of your troupe, the one who everyone seems to know as your figurehead?’
‘You’ll be after Drullus then.’
I gave a nod; she gave a sigh.
‘Drullus. He managed to get pretty close to the king, didn’t he?’
‘How d’you know that?’ Clydia didn’t sound surprised, but I hoped she was.
‘I’m the one who’s meant to be asking questions,’ I replied.
‘That’s a shame.’ She drew her knees to her chest and took another sip of wine. There was something distant in her gaze that I couldn’t quite fathom. Despite living with so many others, she seemed quite alone. ‘Yeah, Drullus could charm his way with anyone. Even me.’
‘But Licintius and Lacanta?’
‘Not her, just him. Drullus managed to appeal to the creative side of the king and – somehow – the king expressed an interest in anything Drullus had to say. Drullus was like that, though. He always promised the world and the heavens to someone, but never came good.’
‘Licintius and Drullus – did they ever sleep together?’
‘What a sweet way of saying it, Drakenfeld. You mean, did they fuck?’ She laughed at me. ‘I never knew and, strangely for Drullus, he never said. He usually boasted about that sort of thing, whether with men or women. He wasn’t fussy. But not with Licintius – didn’t reveal anything. But we didn’t mind though, we were all just happy for the money and comfort.’
‘I’d like to speak to him – can you wake him for me?’
Concern manifested on her face and she became nervous. ‘Drullus hasn’t been here since the murder.’
Was this a lead at long last? Drullus’ disappearance made finding him all the more pressing.
‘Can you describe him for me?’ I demanded.
‘About as tall as you,’ Clydia said, ‘skinny, bronze skin, dark-blond hair that came down to his eyes. He sometimes wore it plaited.’
‘Have you any idea where he might be found?’ I asked. ‘Any old addresses, relatives or friends?’
She moved forward to say something, but hesitated.
‘Go on,’ I urged her. ‘If you know anything…’
‘I don’t. Not exactly. You heard of a gang called the Snake Kings?’
I let out a deep sigh and made a small prayer to Polla.
‘Right after we left Optryx,’ Clydia continued, ‘he told us he was going to them. I knew about that gang, but didn’t know Drullus even had connections there.’ She described the location of where I might find the Snake Kings, but repeated that she had no idea where Drullus might have gone now.
I asked her to fetch the other members of the troupe, and one by one they all shuffled down the stairs, most of them young men, though there was one other woman. All were dressed in weird and wonderfully coloured clothing, though one man wore just a pair of trousers and seemed happy enough to parade around semi-naked.
They seemed fit and handsome people, and I imagined they made quite a lively bunch when they were all properly awake. A few slumped on the floor, a couple of them stood to talk with me. After my requesting it, Clydia told the others what she had told me so far. It was less confrontational coming from her; and meant I could watch their reactions to see if Clydia had been lying to me.
None of them showed signs of surprise; a couple of them were so tired they barely showed signs of life. Further questioning during Clydia’s conversation didn’t bring anything further to light. The actors’ only connection to one another was their profession – they were a disparate bunch, from wildly different backgrounds. None of them had become close to Drullus in any significant way. Though they shared interests as well as jugs of wine, it appeared that Drullus had kept himself to himself.
Frustratingly, none of them could tell me anything about the night at Optryx that Clydia had not told me already. One of the men had seen Lacanta and remarked how attractive she was, and that he, too, had seen her moments before she had been found dead. When he saw her she had been full of life, smiling and laughing with other guests, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
One thing I did find interesting was that the king had constantly wanted them to perform certain plays – ones glorifying Detrata and establishing the king as a noble leader and the nearby nations as friends, not enemies. They explained that the king liked to create a mood whereby people of the city would feel more secure: satisfied by the conquests, and that they would want no more. When pushed on this, the actors suggested that the king actually preferred peace to war, stability to uncertainty, and that he was pro-Vispasia – unlike, it was said, many in the Senate.
The sudden appearance of the king down here was not as odd as I had assumed. Perhaps along with other reasons Licintius was using these actors for his own propaganda to boost his popularity around the city, and to spread his messages.