Mallus' face was ashen as he leaned across the table in the Bannered Mare. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" said Issana, "The crazy mage living in the tunnels, he's the one that burned the place down."

"What crazy mage?"

"How should I know?" Issana snapped. "He just kept going on about how the skeevers were his children, then he chased me all the way back to the meadery and set the place on fire. So don't try and blame me for a botched job. I'm a thief, not some skeever-hunting mage-killer."

Mallus threw up his arms in exasperation. "Do you think that matters? Who cares whose fault it was? Maven will have both our heads unless we think of something. She wanted those documents, and she'll be furious when she finds out we don't have them."

"What was in them?"

Mallus rubbed a hand across his pale face. "I don't know. Honningbrew was cutting in on her sales of Black-Briar mead across the country. Somehow Sabjorn managed to expand way too quickly. Maven wanted him out of the picture and wanted to know how he did it."

"We could ask him."

Mallus stared at her in disbelief. "You think he even wants to talk to us? After what happened? He's knee deep in drink right now."

Issana glanced across the inn and saw Sabjorn with his chin on a table, staring at a half-full mug of ale. "I can get him to talk," Issana said, "spin the story a little differently. I might have overheard something from the mage that made it seem like someone was out to get Sabjorn."

"Really?"

Issana rolled her eyes. "No, you idiot. That's what we tell Sabjorn. Someone was out to get him, so we need to know anything unusual that happened over the last year. Maybe he made some enemies by making a deal with someone."

"That-" Mallus glanced over at Sabjorn. "That might work."

"Of course it will. Stay here."

"Why?"

"I don't want you messing this up."

Mallus' expression darkened but he said nothing. Issana rose and crossed the room, weaving through the crowd and drawing a nervous stare from Mikael. She sat down across from Sabjorn. He looked up, his eyes struggling to focus. "What do… what do you want?"

Issana leaned forwards. "That mage said something while I was down there. I didn't quite make it out, but it sounded like he had a plan to come after you."

Sabjorn downed the rest of his ale, sloshing most of it onto his shirt. "He-hic-succeeded, then."

"No, he said something about a partner. Someone who was out to get you. Do you have any enemies?"

"Maven…" he grunted. "Maven sodding Black-Briar."

Issana shook her head. "That's not what it sounded like. Anyone else? Did anything unusual happen recently? Did you do something?"

"I never did anything," Sabjorn stammered. "All I wanted was… was to-hic-expand my profits."

"How?"

Sabjorn gave her a wary look. "You're just a… a mercenary. What do you-hic-care?"

"I don't like unknowns. If somebody's going to come after you, they might come after me for getting involved."

Sabjorn's eyes seemed to defocus for a moment. "I… I got a gen-gen-" He looked up and around as if searching for the word in the air. "-generous. They said they wanted Honningbrew to… to spread. Maybe… push Black-Briar out a bit."

"Who?"

Sabjorn shook his head. "Never-hic-got a name. Elf lady. Dunmer."

Issana stood up. "Thanks."

"But-but-" Sabjorn called after her. "H-hic-hey! Who's after me? Who's out to-hic-out to get me?"

Issana paused and half-turned towards him. "No idea." She disappeared into the crowd and rejoined Mallus at his table. Mallus looked at her expectantly. "What'd he say?"

"I was right. He got funding from somebody. Someone who wanted to cut in on Maven's profits."

"Did you find out who?"

"No. Dark elf woman. That's all Sabjorn knew."

From the city square outside the inn came sudden shouts. Mallus glanced over his shoulder irritably at the door. "Maybe it'll make sense to Maven. Or one of your friends in the Guild."

Issana nodded. "Maybe."

The shouting grew louder and Mallus turned around again, face an expression of annoyance. "What in Oblivion is going on out there?"

Issana rose as the noise became interspersed with clanking metal and banging. Several other patrons met her halfway to the door, all with the same concerned look on their faces. Issana shoved the door open.

The wave of noise nearly knocked her off her feet. It was as if all of Whiterun had crammed into the square, pushing around and yelling things Issana couldn't make sense of. A man had leaped up onto a low wall and was shouting out to the crowd. "Down with the Empire!" he roared. His hair was grey but his eyes were on fire with fervor. "Death to the elf-lovers! Skyrim! Skyrim!"

The crowd took up the chant, bellowing their approval and raising their fists, but many of them booed instead and shouted him down. A second elderly man, dressed in rich furs, sprang up beside him and called out, "Are we such fools as the Gray-Manes? The Empire is strength! The Empire is unity! By the Divines, I'll die for Skyrim, but not for a murderer like Ulfric Stormcloak!"

Guards started pushing their way through the throng towards the speakers. Issana was shoved roughly aside and nearly fell, but someone caught her. Rune pulled her upright.

"What in Oblivion is going on here?" she exclaimed.

"Didn't you hear? The Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak, attacked High King Torygg and killed him! He's declared war on the Empire!"

"What?"

"Skyrim is falling apart!" said Rune. "The eastern holds have sided with Ulfric but the Empire has seized control of most of the west. Rebels in Hjaalmarch and the Pale were slaughtered. People in Windhelm are rioting and massacring the legionaries." He looked at her, horror on his face. "Issana, it's civil war. We have to get back to Riften before the city shuts itself in!"

Issana turned her gaze back to the two shouting men. The guards had pulled them away from each other but it didn't stop them from spitting insults at one another and the crowd.

"ENOUGH!"

Every man and woman in the crowd went silent and looked towards the voice. Jarl Balgruuf stood, sword drawn, upon a low hill with his guards forming a wall around him. "I will not have my city descend into chaos!" His gaze swept the mass of people. "Yes, there is a war. Ulfric Stormcloak has taken up arms against the Empire. How many of you would have me join him, pledge Whiterun to his cause? How many of you would not? No matter the choice, to side with either would put every life in this city at risk! Whiterun would become a battlefield. Would you see that happen? Would you have our city fought over as little more than territory to be conquered? How many times would our walls be taken and retaken as both sides fight to control our lands? No. I will not see my people slaughtered! Please, I am asking you to remain calm in this difficult time. We must look to our own defences and protect our own lands from those who would do us harm. We must stay out of this fight."

There was silence for a moment, then someone shouted, "Whiterun for the Empire!"

Issana didn't see what happened next, but suddenly the whole front of the crowd had erupted into chaos. People were shouting, some were throwing punches, and the two men who had first spoken had drawn swords and were pointing them at each other. Others leaped up to join them with weapons in hand. The guards waded in, knocking people down and dragging the aggressors out of the crowd. The armed conflict near the wall was set upon with shields raised as the soldiers drove the combatants apart. Rune grabbed Issana by the shoulder. "We have to go."

Issana didn't hesitate. They pushed their way out of the crowd and down towards the city gates. Issana looked back and saw more fights breaking out in the back of the mass of people. "This is madness."

"Yes," Rune said. "It's called war."