The siblings sat in the lee of a disheveled building and ate spicy meat pies they’d purchased from a vendor two streets over. As they consumed the hot food, the crowd of passerby thinned to nothing. The sun had reached the distant horizon, and although it would still be light late into the evening, Marius felt content and lazy.

“There they are, officer!” a familiar voice cawed, “those dirty kids robbed me!”

Marius looked up and saw the fat merchant approaching swiftly, backed by two guardsmen with short cudgels.

“Shite,” he breathed, and then added “run!” only slightly louder.

The siblings took off down the alley, skirting dusty debris and loose timber. The sound of the hustling adults chased them all the way to a tall fence. Marius leaped up and grabbed the top, hoisting himself high enough to see over the top.

“It looks safe,” he said, dropping back to the ground, “Liza, you go first!” He and Tobben formed a platform with their hands and helped their sister vault safely over the fence. “You next Tobben,” Marius braced his feet and put his hands together, “go on--”

Wham!

The air rushed out of Marius’ lungs as something struck him hard in the side. He felt bile rise in his throat as he curled up and sank to the ground, paralyzed by the pain emanating from his liver. A second blow from the cudgel clipped his shoulder as he fell, knocking him down in the dirt.

“No!” A distant voice shouted. It sounded like Tobben. “Get away from him, bastards!” A scrabbling sound echoed across the alley, and then Tobben cried out in pain. Three adult voices mingled over his for a moment, and then there was only silence.

Footsteps retreated as Marius’ vision cleared and he began to get some feeling back in his legs. His side still throbbed where the first cudgel had landed, but he no longer felt the rising urge to vomit. He rolled over to try to push himself to his feet.

“Tobben…” his younger brother was laying in a growing pool of blood, eyes glazed over. Poisonous tears carved furrows down his cheeks as he gripped the boy's hand and whispered his name over and over. It did no good. They’d killed him.