Magistrate Vatman couldn't restrain himself "How do you know that?"

"Like I said, it's a special power, one that could only come from some really strong being, a deity of the lower planes for instance. When I saw the Mark of Asmodeus on Raynald's chest, I started thinking. I checked Basil's body — the magistrate was there when I did. A similar mark, only in deep purple, was there on the fence's tongue. The mark was very small, though, and it was on the underside with an oval encompassing it. I'd say that you had better be on the lookout for a high-level assassin with a ring bearing Asmodeus's staff as a seal! He's probably hiding in Elohfdeus's temple somewhere. ..."

There was a stir at that and Vatman hurried from the hall to take care of that matter. Lord Mayor Gasgol smiled at Gord as he asked. "What have you gleaned from all of this? You questioned the cleric's part for this reason, now I ask it of you."

"At first I was in this for revenge. It hurt to be taken, to lose a woman so beautiful as Ageelia. Actually, it felt better when I was sure she had been a part of a bigger operation — under other circumstances she might have really loved me. . . ." Here Gord's voice trailed off as a look of pain played across his handsome features.

"Well, who knows?" he continued, making a small gesture to dismiss his earlier thoughts. "After I found out about the bigger plan, it was more than merely saving my ass from extinction that drove me on. I'm not the one to march under the banner of authority, but Greyhawk is my city, dammit all, and it isn't a place to mess around with. It's free, lord mayor and oligarchs and all to the contrary. Pardon my words, but I will speak forth now. When I knew that Arentol aimed at tyranny, I had to do everything I could to stop him and his cronies or die trying. I guess I’m alive, at least for a bit yet, and he and his pack of curs are slated for another existence beyond human ken!"

"Is that all?" Gasgol asked in a dry tone of voice.

"Yes, Lord Gasgol."

The lord mayor sat straight in his chair of state. He looked at the oligarchs, then at Gord. "Recently I heard Arentol claim to speak for others of this august body." There were a few snickers and hummings at this statement, and Gasgol himself smiled briefly. "I know now that I can speak for all of us when I say that you have our thanks and gratitude for your part in foiling the coup. If you have committed crimes against us in the past, Gord. you are free of all onus therefrom. You have pardon. Because you have done so much, you are granted Lifelong High Citizenship of Greyhawk City, free entry to all its lands and territories, and exemption from all taxation . . . not that you’ve ever paid any taxes." Gasgol added as an aside.

"More than this we cannot grant under the circumstances," the lord mayor continued, "but I can give you advice in addition. This community might not be a healthy place for you to linger in for a season, young man. Too much has happened, and too many skeletons have come out from concealed chambers because of you. As a friend, Gord, I think it is my duty to suggest that you might find a journey to other climates more salubrious. A year or two from now, who knows? And do take a sennight or two to consider it. No sense in traveling without proper planning!"

Gord bowed low, stepped back a pace, and was led from the chamber by a pair of grinning Praefectors. "This'll make our jobs easier for quite a time, kid," one of the two veteran enforcers said to Gord as they left the hall.

Just before they took him out of the palace, Magistrate Vatman caught up. "Hold on there, you!" he ordered. The escorts complied instantly, all wisecracks swallowed in the presence of the man now likely to become Provost of the entire Citadel, one step short of the post of constable and membership in the oligarchy.

"Gord, what's this? I thought you would be veted inside for hours yet. No matter, I'm glad you're not being entertained, because I have something that might interest you."

"The lord mayor suggested—"

"Later, later. What I have is of immediate importance to you. It seems that one of my operatives has uncovered an old file with a clue that might connect the Scarlet Brotherhood with Arentol's group of plotters. Now if you will agree to join us, I’ll—"

It was Gord's turn to cut the little policeman short. "Sorry, Vatman, but as I was saying before you interrupted me. His Solemn Authority has suggested that I take a holiday from Greyhawk for a while. Right after I return I'll look you up, though, and we can discuss the matter then." With that he walked on with a brisk stride, and his escorts had to hurry to keep up.

Magistrate Vatman stood scratching his head. Well, he thought, I suppose the matter can wait for a few days while the young fellow takes a little time off. ...