"Now the vote," Arentol said directly to Nerof Gasgol.
"You seven are under arrest," a steely voice shot out from behind Arentol, and its sound brought pandemonium to the gathering.
The hour was past midnight. The windows of the Mayoral Palace were yet ablaze with light. The Grand Courtyard was still a hive of activity. Troops marched here and there in squads, going on missions directed by the new Assembly of Oligarchs. Inside the palace, in the upper meeting chamber, a final scene, the culmination of the night's excitement, was taking place. Arentol was the chief person, the center of the drama's final act.
Magistrate Vatman spoke first. "It was thanks to Gord, here, that this whole vile scheme was uncovered. Their mistake was to involve him, for he is a tenacious hunter, once put on the scent. His work enabled me to set the stage. It brought the plotters into the open. It enabled us to prepare so that they could not try force once guile failed them."
"I see. Please let this young fellow speak for himself. I would hear what wit he used to perform so great a service for Greyhawk." Lord Mayor Gasgol commanded.
Gord stepped before the assembled dignitaries and officials of the city he knew as home. He felt very awkward, for if the full extent of his regular activities were known to these persons, he would certainty be subject to scrutiny of an altogether different and worse sort. He cleared his throat nerously, then began. "At first I thought it was all a scheme merely directed at me. A plot to take from me my hard-won gains, to discredit me, and possibly to have me killed in the process. After all, the sum of one thousand orbs is one that is sufficient to arouse avariciousness in most hearts."
Magistrate Vatman interrupted. "These noble authorities are sufficiently apprised of the background of the whole affair not to need details, Gord. Please proceed from the point where we discovered you in Basil the Lock's quarters with his corpse."
"Ahem. Yes, thank you, sir. What you said, magistrate, made me think. No thief or assassin can kill another so utterly without the aid of some greater power, a magic or special dweomer bestowed by supernatural means. Another thing: A thief enlisted as a guardsman? Powers in the plot indeed! I had to find Basil's lover and learn from him just who the fence saw or talked about during and after the operation that involved me. He implicated the Assassins Guild indirectly, but it was the magus, Summer, who really put me on the right track."
"How so?" demanded the lord mayor.
"It was pretty fortuitous running into her at the inn of the Seven Quills, but I could possibly swallow that. When she said she didn't believe my story because I hadn't told her everything, but that she would help me in any event, I still thought she was possibly all right. But when she blasted Raynald's head to nothingness, I thought her a ringer for sure. I know enough about magic to know that knowing truth is not particular to that art but to that of the clerical persuasion. She didn't know it, but I was watching her all the time we were searching Sunray's — Raynald's — apartment. I saw her slide open a secret compartment and take out a sheaf of papers. I couldn't take them from her, but I did manage to get a good look at them later. When she returned to the apartment we were sharing for a time, I saw her stash them with some of her other belongings. When she left the room at one point I quickly scanned their contents. The division of the treasure taken from me was shown on one of those sheets. There were twelve shares total, and half of those went to persons outside the Thieves Guild and the Assassins Guild."
"Why didn't you simply take this evidence and give it to Magistrate Vatman?" the chancellor asked sharply.
"That would alert Summer, and those above her in the plot, that someone was on to them. They could have struck too soon to allow the magistrate to act — killing him would have been easy, and the evidence could then have been destroyed. They could even have tried a physical coup. No, I had to play along, so to speak. While she was busy telling her masters that I was stepping into their trap, I was actually setting up the mechanism which would bring them all down in ruin. A friend of mine in The Guard was intelligent enough to get my message to Magistrate Vatman, and he ordered the army to go along with my idea. The squad that arrested me actually enabled me to get safely to him and explain the whole matter. You see, the six other shares went to the leaders of the merchants, magi, watch, army, and the archdeacon. If those seven could have acted in concert to overthrow the government of the city, they might have succeeded! I had to get the news to Vatman here so he could have me arrested and use me as bait for the trap."
"You planned the setting that could make Arentol think he could use his guile to take over Greyhawk?" an incredulous voice asked. It belonged to San, now the acting Guildmaster of Thieves.
"Yes, San, in a way you might say that although the magistrate did the actual work of setting things up. So did Summer, by running off to tell everyone they had arrested me to take the fall for the murders done by assassin followers of Asmodeus."
"What was the motive for those killings, anyway?" This came from the Craftmaster of Artisans.
"Basil was done for just to make certain that he couldn't give me any clues as to what was going on. In fact, I was watched pretty closely for some time, I suppose. They let me get to San, probably hoping that i'd fight with him and slay my old comrade, thinking that he was connected with the scheme — sorry. San, I know Arentol is your father-in-law, but he didn't care about you or his own daughter, only power. The other victims were nothing more than loyal citizens of Greyhawk. They either had, or were near to, the truth of the whole treasonous plan. From what I could tell, it's been hatching for some time now. Elohldeus just joined it — why he came in I can't guess, because he didn't stand to gain much in the whole deal as far as I can tell. Anyway, it was his part that enabled them to really move, for the means of totally destroying the victim came from him."
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. ...
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