Five days had passed since the Regicide Feast. Lemmy had been very busy. Most religions had their own calendars that started at different times, but still, enough of them were synchronized with the city's official calendar that the first few days of the year tended to be a very active time for someone in the priest-of-all-gods trade.
When a messenger stopped by the Polypantheonic Temple that morning bearing a terse note requesting his immediate presence at the High Courthouse, Lemmy presumed that it was probably a wedding or an annulment for a worshiper of some obscure deity, and that the officiant had failed to adequately prepare, and therefore urgently needed to consult with Lemmy's considerable font of experience. That sort of thing had happened before.
He continued with his appointments, but when he found a gap in his schedule after a goat's milk baptism, he washed up, flipped the sign in the window, tacked a "Back Soon" note to his temple door, and hurried off to Court.