Марк Ньютон - Drakenfeld

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.

Of Drullus, it turned out that the other woman and two other men had slept with him, but nothing turning into anything serious. Drullus was not, they said, a man who liked to commit to anything other than the theatre. At last I told them they could go, but asked them not to leave the city. A few of them headed back upstairs, the other woman included. There was a tension between her and Clydia but I didn’t think it was connected to the case.

As I was about to leave, Clydia stepped forward and touched my arm. ‘Do you believe us?’ Her eyes revealed a sudden panic. ‘I don’t want anything bad to happen to the troupe because we know the king. We just wanted to perform plays and not starve…’

‘If you’re telling me the truth,’ I replied, ‘then I see no reason for you to be afraid.’

As we left and continued back through the sunlit street, Leana said, ‘And do you think she is telling the truth?’

I considered the matter and contemplated just what the actors might have gained from lying. ‘She might be boasting a little, or they might be protecting themselves, but I believe she was being genuine enough – it was her fear at the end that persuades me. Why be so scared if she was making it up?’

Clouds had massed, darkening one half of the sky leaving the other in ochre tones. It started to rain. This was not just any kind of rain though, it was the kind that had received the full backing of the gods. I’d heard rumours that the city’s priests had been conferring in the shadows of temples, praying to any god inclined to listen, in an attempt to help relieve the people of the city from the intense heat and surrounding crop failures. Street astrologers, hedge witches and those of the more dubious arts, had also been making sacrifices, casting runes and studying the stars in an attempt to bring rain.

Perhaps it was the will of the priests, priestesses, pontiffs and their clerics uniting in secret prayer that helped produce this downpour. Or, as I was inclined to believe, perhaps it was just the natural rhythms of the world, things that were simply beyond the control of even the gods, let alone priests.