Three

It was an overcast day as Anna and Famain sat at the side of the dirt path, gloomily sticking twigs together with mud. Their adventure had earned them their biggest punishment ever. Unfortunately, Famain's suspicions had been right; Ursanne had been listening at the door. When she heard them talk of entering the undercroft, she had thrown open the door and began ranting once more. She berated them for entering a place of rest for the deceased. It had been about a month since then, and still Ursanne refused to let them out of her sight. She was there now. Famain could see her spying on them through the curtain widow of their living room across the road.

"Do you think she'll ever leave us alone?" muttered Famain. Ursanne was eyeing him suspiciously through a gap in the curtains.

"I doubt it." replied Anna, her fingers caked in mud from her attempts at making a wigwam. "She probably won't stop watching us 'till were old and our children have children." She looked up as the curtains closed.

"What in the name of Akatosh can we do now?" asked Famain moodily, prodding a lump in his pile. "This is as boring as Oblivion! Worse still, I bet the murderer has gone by now. I honestly doubt he'd stick around after killing a noble. Probably gone to the Imperial City…" Once again, Famain lapsed into silence, dreaming of that wondrous capital.

"Famain!" shouted Anna, giving him a shove. He jumped and glared at her.

"What?" said Famain, sounding annoyed. What did a person have to do to get some peace?

"You and you're Imperial City!" said Anna, shaking her head. "Get back to reality! How do you think we should capture this murderer...?" Famain sighed.

"Drop it Anna, like I said, he's probably long gone by now. Anyway, it'd be impossible for two kids to take on a bloody murderer on our own! We'd be dead within a minute!"

"You sound just like mum." said Anna, folding her arms grumpily. Famain shrugged and began to poke idly at his mud pile again. He craved to go swimming in the bay, but as part of their punishment, they were forbidden to go outside of the gates. Sighing, he got up and stretched his legs. A drop of rain plopped onto his ragged jerkin. Soon, the drizzle became a downpour.

"Come on." muttered Famain, gesturing towards the house. Slowly Anna got to her feet and began to trudge up to the shabby shack they called home. Famain followed her. When he reached the door, he stared at the grubby wooden walls, imagining what it would be like if he lived in a beautiful Imperial Manor, or a decorative Cheydinhal Villa. He smiled at the thought of this. It was a ridiculous thought. He entered the dimly lit living area and flopped down on the bench. He picked up the large book on the spindly table beside it. Its cover was navy blue leather and rather batted. Peeling gold letters read The Many Towns of Cyrodiil. He flicked it open and began to read. During the time of his punishment, Famain had come across this old, dust-covered book shoved at the back of his parent's bookshelf. It was actually a really interesting read. It contained an accurate map of Cyrodiil and loads of information on each of the towns. Beautiful illustrations of the towns made up many of the pages. The ones of Bravil made the run-down town look stunning. He quickly flipped to the page he'd been reading and was soon immersed in it.

"It's nice to see you're doing something sensible." said a voice. Famain looked up. Ursanne was clutching a broom, smiling at him. She leant it against the side table and sat down beside him.

"This is for your own good, you do know that?" Famain nodded stiffly. His foster mother ruffled his hair. "You should learn to keep out of trouble." she said "It'll do you good." Famain smiled a little before returning to his book. The bench creaked as Ursanne stood up. He heard her footsteps fade into the kitchen. He continued to read, but something inside his head was telling him to turn around. He ignored it, but he couldn't shake of the feeling something really important was happening beyond the pain of glass behind him.

"It won't hurt to look." he muttered to himself. He rose from the bench, turned around and squinted through the layer of muck. What Famain saw surprised him so much that he dropped the book heavily on his foot. Eyes streaming and biting back howls of pain, Famain hobbled up the staircase to his room. His sister was sat on the floor, reading one of her books; The Real Barenziah. Famain yanked it from her hands and chucked it on the bed.

"OI!" she yelled, standing up. "I was reading that!" Anna leaned across the bed to retrieve it, but he stopped her. She glared at him.

"He's still here." Famain whispered. "I just saw him!" Anna gaped at him.

"But I thought he would have left! Murderers don't tend to stick around once they've committed such a crime!" She dashed to their bedroom window. "He's still there! Look!" she pointed to the house opposite them. The Khajiit murderer was talking to Breton woman. After a minute the pair strode off. "Where's mum?" Anna asked.

"In the kitchen. I think we could out of the house without her noticing."

"I think we can risk it." muttered Anna. "Dad's still at work, isn't he?" Famain nodded. As though they had come to some kind of silent agreement, Anna and Famain stole out of their room, down the stairs and out of the house before their mother could even leave the kitchen. The walked calmly towards the opposite house to throw of any suspicion then follow the winding cobblestone path towards the walls of the town. It was as they crept towards the inn, Silverhome on the Water, that they heard hushed voices.

"Why'd you do it?" came a woman's angry whisper "You KNOW I can get you you're stuff without resorting to this!" Famain heard a load thud as she whacked a barrel.

"Well, I didn't want to leave the job half done. I knew there was some stuff still on his body. I would have got it all if that stupid beggar, Aia hadn't been snooping around." Famain held his breath as the tail of the Khajiit curled round the corner. "Anyway," continued the Khajiit "Why does it matter that I killed him. He nicked it from us! I had the right to pry what was ours from his cold, dead hands!"

"Yes, but it's illegal, you know that! You're just lucky Aia didn't recognize you! They would have found us out, and it wouldn't have been just you that they hung!" Famain and Anna listened more intently. It seemed there were more people involved in this than they thought. "Thanks to you," the woman said "I'm going to have to get us all out of here. The guards aren't as dumb as they look, they'll make the connection. Terentius' secret wasn't all that secret!"

"Don't worry you're socks of Roxy, no-one saw me except the Beggar."

"How do you know? You said yourself that when you foolishly went into the undercroft to retrieve what was left you thought you heard someone!"

"Probably nothing." dismissed the Khajiit. They heard his pads crunch on the rocks. "Don't worry, if the guards come nosing, I'll get out of Bravil sharp-ish."

"What about the rest of them! If Aia gives the description to the guards, J'zin-Dar could be blamed, and again, we'd all hang for being in possession and dealing!" A shatter of glass echoed from around the corner. A smashed lantern rolled towards them.

"Don't be so paranoid Roxy!" hissed the Khajiit, his voice getting louder. "No one is going to find out. You're not going to tell no-one, J'zin-Dar isn't, no one is. And if that retched beggar squawks one word, it'll be her that'll hang from a tree!" he ended his rant, heaving.

"I just hope you're right." muttered the woman called Roxy.

"No one will believe her anyway, everyone knows what she's like." Their footsteps faded towards the river. Famain dragged Anna around the corner. They watched as Roxy (the same Breton they saw earlier) and the Khajiit rounded the corner and headed in the direction of Anna's and Famain's house. Silently they followed, praying their shadows wouldn't give them away. Famain peered around the corner. He just caught the glimpse of a tail swishing round the back of the house right next to theirs. They strode calmly towards their own house so not to give themselves away to the Khajiit or the Breton who were climbing up the weathered stairs to the top story of the building. The murderer and his friend reached the top of the stairs. The woman hastily opened the door and darted inside it, pulling the Khajiit in after her. Famain heard the click of a lock. As soon as they were sure no one was looking, Famain and Anna ran round to the back of the house and began to climb the stairs. They were extremely old and worn, creaking with each step. Famain sent a silent prayer to Akatosh that they wouldn't be heard by the Breton, Khajiit or anyone else inside the building. Famain breathed a little easier when they reached the top without injury.

"How do we get in?" hissed Anna "They've locked the door!" Famain cast around, looking for something that could help them. All that was on the small platform was an empty barrel.

"We could kick the door down?" suggested Famain.

"And get caught by a murderer? Not the best of ideas. If possible, we need to get in without being seen!" Anna froze, her face became pale. Heavy clunks were approaching. The platform wobbled slightly.

"Guards!" mouthed Famain. Anna pointed at the barrel. Famain tore the lid off and clambered inside, and just in time. Through a gap in the wood, he could see a burly looking guard, his face stony.

"You shouldn't be up here missy!" he said gruffly.

"I-er um…"

"Come on, you're comin' with me!" he said seizing her arm. "Where d'ye live?" Famain saw Anna point at their small house. He watched the guard begin to pull Anna away. Over the clanging of the guard's iron boots, he heard a soft clink on the floor. As he peered through the gap, he could see Anna's hair clip lying on the floor. Soon, the guard's footsteps faded. He waited a minute to make sure he was gone. As he waited, he stared at the clip, wondering why Anna left it. It took another moment for it to click. He knew what he had to do.