Five for Silver: A John, the Lord Chamberlain Mystery by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer

them. Her companion, a pallid, angular woman with sunken cheeks and chest, stepped backwards in the water, wincing as her spine came up against the sharp snout of a fancifully carved, water-spewing fish.
    “There is no need for formalities, Priscilla,” Theodora addressed the plump bather. “Just think, now you’ll be able to tell everyone you’ve bathed with the empress. That stable boy you’ve been trysting with in the palace gardens will be most impressed, not to mention your husband the senator.”
    Priscilla was suddenly much less pink despite the hot water.
    “As for you, Galla,” Theodora observed to the other woman, “I expect you don’t have anyone to tell your secrets. But you don’t have to run away. I won’t bite.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not a devotee of Sappho, are you? Might it be I will not be safe with you in there?”
    “Oh, no, excellency. Never. That is to say…”
    Theodora giggled. “This is so much more pleasant than my solitary ablutions. I know, let’s play.” She splashed a handful of water into Galla’s face.
    The woman sputtered and coughed.
    Theodora splashed her again. “Come now, fight back. It’s no fun otherwise. You too, Priscilla. Hurry up!” She sent a spray in the direction of the plump woman. “What? Afraid to splash the empress? Just pretend I’m someone else. Pretend I’m your stable boy.” Her tone sharpened. “I might as well be bathing with the Patriarch. Play!”
    Priscilla bent slightly, cradling her bosom with one hand, dipped her fingers into the water, and shook them in Theodora’s direction.
    The empress gasped. Her hands flew up to her eyes. “What did you do?” she wailed. “I can’t see!”
    Her ladies-in-waiting rushed to the edge of the pool.
    Priscilla gaped in horror.
    “Don’t stand there! Help me!” Theodora cried.
    Priscilla stumbled forward clumsily. The empress executed a well practiced dance step, swung her foot, and cut her fellow bather’s legs out from under her. Priscilla disappeared below the water, sending a wave up over the rim of the pool, soaking the ladies-in-waiting.
    Theodora laughed with delight.
    As Priscilla surfaced, choking and spitting, Theodora gleefully prepared to dunk her playmate’s head beneath the water.
    Before she could do so, a shadow passed over the pool.
    Something was blocking the light from the aperture in the dome.
    Theodora looked up.
    A dark shape almost filled the opening.
    A great, black bird.
    It dropped, dark wings spreading, and hit the center of the pool in an explosion of water.
    What bobbed to the surface almost immediately wasn’t a bird, however, but a man whose leathery face was half hidden by a sodden hood. In one claw-like hand he clutched a sack from which emanated a hideous, demonic cackling.
    The matrons and attendants shrieked in unison.
    “Silence!” Theodora commanded. “All of you! If I’m not mistaken, we have a holy visitor.”
    The hooded man shook the dripping sack, which cackled even more frantically. “What do you mean, highness? Can’t you see, I’m Death! Just thought I’d drop in unexpectedly, like I always do!”
    “You’re the holy fool we’ve all been hearing about,” Theodora told him with a scimitar of a smile.
    “Am I? Well, you’re the empress, I suppose, so if you say so, I must be.” He lurched toward Galla, his cloak floating on the surface of the water. Galla covered her chest with her hands and cringed away, but was pinned against the carved fish head.
    “Don’t you want to hear my riddle?” asked the intruder. “Why is the empress like Rome?”
    Galla’s only reply was to tremble with horror and embarrassment.
    “Because…because…she’s the symbol of all that’s great?” offered Priscilla in a quavering tone.
    The man now sidled in Priscilla’s direction. “You should be trying to flatter me, not her, don’t you think? After all, I might be carrying a knife. As far as I can see, the empress isn’t