Drakenfeld

The Skull and Jasmine House

A river of stone, the buildings and streets of the city were constantly transforming. Everywhere around were statues or structures either in various stages of decay or being constructed with bright, new stone; though as we moved further down-city we saw much more of the former.

We followed the tavern keeper’s directions to the broken fountain, which three men were repairing while another was rebuilding the road around it. There on the corner of the street, side by side, stood crumbling statues of the gods Trymus and Festonia. They were posed to represent the story of the founding of the city, where these two gods – man and wife at the time – established the first few buildings that would eventually become Tryum. Together they organized a small army to fight off strange creatures that besieged the settlement, and their heroic sacrifices later made them become gods. Though the statues had lost their shields and swords, they still stood tall and defiant, inspiring everyone in the neighbourhood on to greater acts.

Leana bought a quick snack from a street vendor and offered me a bite, but I never wanted to eat at a time like this. I prepared myself to be ready for whatever these actors would do. The house turned out to be on a quiet street. There was a battered red awning outside and on the door was a painting of little white flowers curling in an S-shape with a skull set on top.

They looked over the looming, pale stone structure. As the tavern keeper had said it was large for the district, which made me think the Skull and Jasmine troupe were not doing as badly as many actors. I suspected that royal money might have gone into helping them live here.

‘No windows or doors anywhere down the side,’ she said. ‘This seems the only way in and out, from the front at least. Do you think they’ll run from us?’

Memories of Venyn, where every other person we sought out tried to flee on our arrival. ‘I doubt it. Not if they’re in favour with the king.’

Knocking on the door, we stood back and waited. At the end of the street a priest walked by chanting his morning prayers. A dog sifted through the detritus that had gathered around the base of the buildings.

Leana moved in and banged the door again with her fist several times. Eventually someone came to unlock it.

A young woman stood there, black-haired with a heavy fringe, wide-eyed and dressed in a once-ornate blue gown that had clearly seen better days. She stood a little shorter than me and was thin to an unhealthy extent. She stared at both of us, her gaze lingering on Leana for a moment longer. The girl was giving nothing away in her expression.

‘It’s early. What do you want?’ Her voice was surprisingly crisp and confident.

‘My name is Lucan Drakenfeld, officer of the Sun Chamber. I need—’

‘An officer? I was wondering when you’d get here.’

‘You know of me?’ I asked.

‘No, I’ve no idea what the Sun Court—’

‘Sun Chamber.’

‘Sure,’ she continued. ‘I just figured that someone would come along sooner or later, someone official, and I reckon you’re someone, right? Everyone looks to the low-downs first.’

‘This is an awfully big building for a low-down,’ I replied, and she gave a slight smile. ‘Please, I’d like to ask some questions.’

‘Sure, come inside. The place isn’t exactly clean – that’s what living with others does for you.’

We followed her inside into the musky darkness. The house was similar to many good homes in Tryum: there was a large hall with a small open roof, adjacent rooms in which to dine and a kitchen. I assumed there were sleeping quarters higher up. But everything was run-down: many floor tiles were cracked or covered in grime; the paint on the walls was peeling. There was a strange smell, much like that of the bar, and there weren’t many windows. Clearly this was a building that had once been a place of beauty, and it was sad to see it in this decayed state.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Clydia. What’s your name?’ she asked addressing Leana directly.

Leana moved forward and introduced herself, seemingly amused at the young girl’s attitude.

‘So,’ Clydia continued, ‘Lucan Drakenfeld and Leana. How’s your day been?’

‘Well, I attended my father’s funeral this morning, but things are starting to improve.’

‘Oh. Sorry to hear that,’ she replied, possibly even sincerely. ‘I’m guessing you must really enjoy your work to still be out today.’

‘Something like that. I’m after information, and I think you might be able to help me.’

‘I’m guessing you’re going to want to know at least two things.’ Clydia reached down for a clay jug beside the table. ‘Wine?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s too early.’

‘Suit yourself. As I was saying, you’re going to want to know what we were doing the night of the murder, and you’re also wondering how a bunch of people like us get to know the king.’

‘If the acting doesn’t work out, with a mind like that you could try for a career in the Civil Cohorts.’

‘Pah, I’d trust them less than I’d trust an actor,’ she sneered.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Low-downs. More often than not, men from the cohorts will accuse us women of all sorts, get us in some dark alleyway and then try to lift our dresses. Life’s shit at the bottom, not that someone like you would know. Just look at the way you dress. Fancy fabric, ’n all. Such a lovely voice. A nice education, no doubt.’

‘I am not here to judge,’ I said, ‘I’m simply here to find answers to my investigation.’

‘What’s she here for then?’ Clydia indicated Leana, then slumped on a cushion near the wall, alongside two fine-looking amphorae.

‘Leana helps when the answers aren’t as forthcoming as I would like.’ I gave a gentle smile.

‘That a threat?’

‘Not yet.’ I hoped Clydia wouldn’t give me too much trouble, and it seemed to me that her tongue was likely to be her most offensive weapon. ‘What exactly is the Skull and Jasmine?’

‘I’ve often wondered that myself.’ Clydia chuckled as if noting some private joke. ‘We’re a loose group of nine actors, from different parts of Vispasia.’

‘You have a local accent – you’re from Tryum, I take it?’

‘Close. I’m from a small town further along the coast. Tryum seemed to absorb me somehow. Came here five summers ago, when I was fourteen, but the Skull and Jasmine didn’t really come together until two years back.’

‘How did it happen?’ I spotted a couple of stools next to the table, and drew them up for Leana and myself.

‘We were desperate people. Had little in the way of money. We all fell in love with street theatre – how could we not? – and started putting on little productions to spread the word of the older cultures.’

‘How did you get on?’

‘Not well. We didn’t make much money.’ Clydia shrugged.

‘What happened?’

‘Instead, people wanted more and more popular tales instead of art. They wanted to hear stories of what General Maxant had been up to in Mauland, stories of popular heroes, gods, comedies …’ She took a sip from her cup and sighed sadly. ‘There’s not much art to that, but it paid our rent and food for a while. People don’t come to see us to learn, they come to forget, to dream.’

‘Dreaming still requires thought. So somewhere along the line you fell in favour with the king.’

She smiled, shaking her head with amusement. ‘Strange isn’t it, people like us – a girl like me – suddenly finding ourselves in that big residence.’

‘It is a rather breathtaking place,’ I remarked.

‘Seemed like it was made for the gods. And there we were!’ She was much less aggressive now. Her face became vibrant, her attitude far warmer than before. ‘We were good friends with the king.’

My look of surprise didn’t seem to go down well. Clydia rolled her eyes, as if she’d seen that reaction a hundred times before. It must have been annoying, if she’d had something to brag about, that people didn’t believe her. ‘It seems unlikely…’

‘King Licintius likes to visit the city at night. Course, if you even mention it to him he’ll deny everything, but he liked to visit his people, only… not as himself. He dresses up in disguise.’ Her expression was perfectly serious.

‘You’re not actually joking, are you?’

‘Course not. That’s how he found us. I think it’s a good thing, too – how else is a king to know his people? From senators whispering into his ear? No. He’d heard about several theatre groups, but wanted to meet one for himself – away from the life in Optryx, so he said. We were new, we had little in the way of a following. So one night, with ten armed guards in civilian clothing walking up and down the street outside one of our performances, the mighty King Licintius came to pay us a visit.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘That seems…’

‘Hard to believe?’ Clydia finished. ‘I know. Could scarcely believe it myself. Came in here, he did – right where you’re sitting. Dressed almost like one of us. He’s a handsome man up close – did you ever see him?’

‘I have spoken face to face with him, yes.’

‘When he’s in his royal fineries he’s like a god, but when he dressed like us he seemed almost within reach. I wanted to touch him to see if he was real. I made a drunken pass at him once, I think. A girl in my position’s got to try these things.’

‘I take it he didn’t accept your kind gesture,’ I said.

‘Nah, he wasn’t interested.’ Clydia gave a warm laugh. Her moods seemed to skip between extremes within the same sentence.

‘So what did he actually do with the Skull and Jasmine, when you were all together?’

‘Do? We acted, of course. He wanted to join in. Wanted to have some fun, the kind he couldn’t have up there.’

‘You’re telling me the king simply came all the way down here, putting his life at risk, to have fun with some poor actors.’

‘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.

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?’