Free Three for a Letter by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer

momentary good spirits destroyed by this reminder of Gadaric’s death. “But Anatolius has often praised John’s reasoning abilities and I for one am confident he’ll soon find the murderer. Then the cloud of suspicion will be raised from us all.” His eyebrows twitched into a scowl as he continued. “It is so tragic to see a child die and in such a manner, but I think it’s best to keep ourselves busy while waiting for the person responsible to be found and punished.” He sighed and changed the subject. “Are you certain that the automaton will be constructed in time for the festival, Hero? There’s only a little more than a week left now.”
    Hero laid the metal sheet aside. “It will be ready. Indeed it had better be ready, since Theodora has ordered that the festival is to be held despite the boy’s death. I do admit we are a little behind schedule.” He wiped sweat from his dark forehead. His clothes were wringing wet from the heat of the workshop, while the tight curls on his scalp and the hair of his sparse beard glistened with perspiration.
    Zeno plunged ahead enthusiastically. “Straw men are all very well, but mechanical figures, especially those whose movements are not prompted by obvious devices, will be even more interesting and add much to the festival. I’m certain that the villagers will be delighted with them.”
    “I hope so, especially as I’ve thought of a method to overcome the difficulty of hiding the mechanism operating the archer automaton. He could be carried on a litter, and its base will serve to conceal the necessary machinery.”
    “You’ve solved it!” Zeno’s lined face lit up with excitement. “And now instead of a straggling rabble of villagers dragging their straw effigy up there with very little ceremony except that old song of theirs, I shall organize a proper procession. We’ll have musicians as well, and speeches. The empress will be as enthralled as the villagers.”
    He paused and then said with pain in his voice, “Oh, dear, do you think that that might seem callous under the circumstances? I shall have to consult the Lord Chamberlain about it.” He blinked as another thought occurred. “But what exactly do you propose your archer will do?”
    Hero smiled. “I’ve devoted some thought to that and decided that when the litter arrives at the cliff top, the figure will draw its bow and fire an arrow out over the water.”
    “Didn’t Hero of Alexandria design something like that for a different sort of figure?” Zeno interrupted. “I believe I recall the diagram. You can adapt the mechanism, so that part at least is already done.”
    Hero’s smile diminished. “It’s constructing the figure that will be difficult. However, my thought is that as the arrow leaves the bow, it will be the signal for the villagers to throw their straw man off the headland into the sea, thus providing the required symbolic sacrifice for a fruitful harvest, or whatever these ancient festivities were designed to accomplish.”
    Zeno agreed that it sounded appropriate and dignified. “I really must invite some palace dignitaries to attend as well. Senator Balbinus for one,” he added. “After all, Castor is his nephew and Balbinus will be very impressed when he sees how well you’ve brought the figures from Castor’s volume to life. Then perhaps he’ll stop lecturing the poor man about wasting so many nomismata on codices and scrolls. Balbinus treats him like some wayward son at times.” He sighed. “But now the senator will spread your fame, my friend!”
    Hero had no opportunity to respond since the nursemaid Bertrada ran into the workshop, pulling Poppaea by her hand.
    “The whale came back! It’s chasing us!” shrieked Poppaea. Her light curly hair, usually pinned up, was disheveled and her round face was pink with excitement. Zeno thought the little girl appeared as much exhilarated as terrified.
    “It’s true,” Bertrada gasped breathlessly. The plaits in her