Paola looked at him. ‘This might be the time,’ she said softly. ‘They will have to know the truth soon.’
Claudia’s gaze shifted from Ezio to Paola and back again. Maria had seated herself next to Annetta, who had her arm round her. Maria stared into space, smiling faintly, caressing the pearwood box.
‘What is it, Ezio?’ asked Claudia, fear in her voice.
‘Something’s happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
Ezio was silent, at a loss for words, but his expression told her everything.
‘Oh, God, no!’
‘Claudia –’
‘Tell me it’s not true!
Ezio hung his head.
‘No, no, no, no, no!’ cried Claudia.
‘Shhh.’ He tried to calm her. ‘I did everything I could, piccina.’
Claudia buried her head in his chest and cried, long, harsh sobs, while Ezio did his best to comfort her. He looked over her head at his mother, but she didn’t appear to have heard. Perhaps, in her own way, she already knew. After all the turmoil that had descended upon Ezio’s life, having to witness his sister and his mother thrown into the depths of despair was almost enough to break him. He stood, holding his sister in his arms, for what seemed an eternity – feeling the responsibility of the world on his shoulders. It was up to him to protect his family now – the Auditore name was his to honour. Ezio the boy was no more… He collected his thoughts.
‘Listen,’ he said to Claudia, once she had quietened a little. ‘What matters now is that we get away from here. Somewhere safe, where you and Mamma can remain in security. But if we are to do that I need you to be brave. You must be strong for me, and look after our mother. Do you understand?’
She listened, cleared her throat, pulled away from him a little, and looked up at him. ‘Yes.’
‘Then we must make our preparations now. Go and pack what you need, but bring little with you – we must leave on foot – a carriage would be too dangerous to organize. Wear your simplest clothes – we must not draw attention to ourselves. And hurry!’
Claudia left with their mother and Annetta.
‘You should bathe and change,’ said Paola to him. ‘You’ll feel better.’
Two hours later their travel papers were ready and they could leave. Ezio checked the contents of his satchel carefully one last time. Perhaps his uncle could explain the contents of the documents he had taken from Alberti, which had clearly been of such vital importance to him. His new dagger was strapped to his right forearm, out of sight. He tightened his belt. Claudia led Maria into the garden and stood by the door in the wall by which they were to leave, with Annetta, who was trying not to cry.
Ezio turned to Paola. ‘Goodbye. And thank you again, for everything.’
She put her arms round him and kissed him close to his mouth. ‘Stay safe, Ezio, and stay vigilant. I suspect the road ahead of you is yet long.’
He bowed gravely, then drew up his hood and joined his mother and sister, picking up the bag they had packed. They kissed Annetta goodbye, and moments later they were in the street, walking north, Claudia with her arm linked through her mother’s. For a while they were silent, and Ezio pondered the great responsibility he had now been obliged to shoulder. He prayed that he would be able to rise to the occasion, but it was hard. He would have to remain strong, but he would manage it for the sake of Claudia and his poor mother, who seemed to have retreated completely into herself.
They had reached the centre of the city when Claudia started to speak – and she was full of questions. He noticed with gratification, though, that her voice was firm.
‘How could this have happened to us?’ she said.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to come back?’
‘I don’t know, Claudia.’
‘What will happen to our house?’
He shook his head. There had been no time to make any arrangements, and if there had been, with whom could he have made them? Perhaps Duke Lorenzo would be able to close it up, have it guarded, but that was a faint hope.
‘Were they… Were they given a proper funeral?’
‘Yes. I… arranged it myself.’ They were crossing the Arno and Ezio allowed himself a glance downriver.
At last they were approaching the southern city gates, and Ezio was grateful that they had got this far undetected, but it was a dangerous moment, for the gates were heavily policed. Thankfully the documents in false names which Paola had provided them with passed muster, and the guards were on the lookout for a desperate young man on his own, not a modestly dressed little family.
They travelled south steadily all that day, pausing only when they were well clear of the city to buy bread, cheese and wine at a farmhouse and to rest for an hour under the shade of an oak tree at the edge of a cornfield. Ezio had to rein in his impatience, for it was almost thirty miles to Monteriggioni and they had to travel at his mother’s pace. She was a strong woman at the beginning of her forties, but the massive shock she had sustained had aged her. He prayed that once they reached Uncle Mario’s she would recover, though he could see that any recovery would be a slow one. He hoped that, barring any setback, they would reach Mario’s estate by the afternoon of the following day.
That night they spent in a deserted barn, where at least there was clean, warm hay. They dined on the remains of their lunch, and made Maria as comfortable as possible. She made no complaint, indeed she seemed completely unaware of her surroundings; but when Claudia tried to take Petruccio’s box from her when getting her ready for bed, she protested violently and pushed her daughter away, swearing at her like a fishwife. Brother and sister were shocked at that.
But she slept peacefully, and seemed refreshed the next morning. They washed themselves in a brook, drank some of its clear water in lieu of breakfast, and continued on their way. It was a bright day, pleasantly warm but with a cooling breeze, and they made good progress, passing only a handful of wagons on the road and seeing no one except the odd group of labourers in the fields and orchards they walked by. Ezio was able to buy some fruit, enough at least for Claudia and his mother, but he wasn’t hungry anyway – he was too nervous to eat.
At last, in mid-afternoon, he was heartened to see the little walled town of Monteriggioni bathed in sunshine on its hill in the distance. Mario effectively ruled the district. Another mile or two, and they would be within his territory. Heartened, the little group quickened their pace.
‘Nearly there,’ he told Claudia, with a smile.
‘Grazie a Dio,’ she replied, returning it.
They’d just started to relax when, at a turn in the road, a familiar figure, accompanied by a dozen men in blue-and-gold liveries, blocked their way. One of the guards carried a standard bearing the hated, familiar emblem of golden dolphins and crosses on a blue ground.
‘Ezio!’ the figure greeted him. ‘Buon’ giorno! And your family – or at least, what’s left of it! What a pleasant surprise!’ He nodded to his men, who fanned out across the road, halberds at the ready.
‘Vieri!’
‘The same. As soon as they released my father from custody, he was more than happy to finance this little hunting party for me. I was hurt. After all, how could you think of leaving Florence without saying a proper goodbye?’
Ezio advanced a pace, ushering Claudia and his mother behind him.
‘What do you want, Vieri? I should have thought you’d be satisfied with what the Pazzi have managed to achieve.’
Vieri spread his hands. ‘What do I want? Well, it’s hard to know where to begin. So many things! Let’s see… I’d like a larger palazzo, a prettier wife, much more money and – what else? – Oh, yes! Your head!’ He drew his sword, motioning his guards to stay ready, and advanced on Ezio himself.
‘I’m surprised, Vieri – are you really going to take me on all alone? But of course your bully boys are right behind you!’
‘I don’t think you’re worthy of my
sword,’ retorted Vieri, sheathing it again. ‘I think I’ll just finish you off with my fists. Sorry if this distresses you, tesora,’ he added to Claudia, ‘but don’t worry – it won’t take long, then I’ll see what I can do to comfort you – and who knows, maybe your little mamma as well!’
Ezio stepped forward fast and connected his fist to Vieri’s jaw so that his enemy staggered, taken off guard. But, regaining his feet, Vieri waved his men back and hurled himself on to Ezio with a furious roar, piling on blow after blow. Such was the ferocity of Vieri’s attack that while Ezio parried with skill, he was unable to land a meaningful blow of his own. Both men were locked together, wrestling for control, occasionally staggering back only to fling themselves at each other with renewed vigour. Eventually Ezio was able to use Vieri’s anger to work against him – no one ever fought effectively in a rage. Vieri wound up to throw a huge haymaker with his right; Ezio stepped forward and the blow glanced uselessly off his shoulder, Vieri’s momentum carrying his weight forward uncontrolled. Ezio tripped up his opponent’s heels and sent him rolling in the dust. Bleeding and bested, Vieri scrambled to safety behind his men, and stood up, dusting himself down with his grazed hands.
‘I tire of this,’ he said, and shouted to the guards. ‘Finish him off, and the women too. I can do better than that scrawny little tadpole and her carcassa of a mother!’
‘Coniglio!’ yelled Ezio, panting for breath, drawing his sword, but the guards had formed a circle round them and extended their halberds. He knew he’d have a hard time closing with them.
The circle tightened. Ezio kept swinging round, trying to keep his womenfolk behind him, but things looked black, and Vieri’s unpleasant laugh was one of triumph.
Suddenly there was a sharp, almost ethereal whistling noise and two of the guards to Ezio’s left crumpled to their knees and fell forward, dropping their weapons as they did so. From each of their backs projected a throwing-knife, buried to the hilt and clearly aimed with deadly accuracy. Blood billowed out from their shirts, like crimson flowers.
The others drew back in alarm, but not before one more of their number had fallen to the ground, a knife in his back.
‘What sorcery is this?’ yelped Vieri, terror cutting his voice, drawing his sword and looking round wildly.
He was answered by a deep-throated, booming laugh. ‘Nothing to do with sorcery, boy – everything to do with skill!’ The voice was coming from a nearby coppice.
‘Show yourself!’
A large bearded man wearing high boots and a light breastplate emerged from the little wood. Behind him several others, similarly attired, appeared. ‘As you wish,’ he said, sardonically.
‘Mercenaries!’ snarled Vieri, then turned to his own guards. ‘What are you waiting for? Kill them! Kill them all!’
But the large man stepped forward, wrested Vieri’s sword from him with unbelievable grace, and snapped the blade over his knee as easily as if it had been a twig. ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea, little Pazzi, though I must say you live up to your family name.’
Vieri didn’t answer, but urged his men on. Not very willingly, they closed with the strangers, while Vieri, picking up the halberd of one of his dead guards, rounded on Ezio, knocking his sword out of his hand and out of reach just as he was drawing it.
‘Here, Ezio, use this!’ said the large man, throwing him another sword, which flew through the air to land on its point, quivering in the ground at his feet. In a flash he’d picked it up. It was a heavy weapon and he had to use both hands to wield it, but he was able to sever the shaft of Vieri’s halberd. Vieri himself, seeing that his men were being easily bested by the condottieri, and that two more were already down, called off the attack and fled, hurling imprecations as he went. The large man approached Ezio and the women, grinning broadly.
‘I’m glad I came out to meet you,’ he said. ‘Looks as if I arrived just in time.’
‘You have my thanks, whoever you are.’
The man laughed again, and there was something familiar about his voice.
‘Do I know you?’ asked Ezio.
‘It’s been a long time. But still I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own uncle!’
‘Uncle Mario?’
‘The same!’
He gave Ezio a bear-hug, and then approached Maria and Claudia. Distress clouded his face when he saw the condition Maria was in. ‘Listen, child –’ he said to Claudia. ‘I’m going to take Ezio back to the castello now, but I’m leaving my men to guard you, and they will give you something to eat and drink. I’ll send a rider ahead and he’ll return with a carriage to bring you the rest of the way. You’ve done enough walking for one day and I can see that my poor sister-in-law is…’ he paused before adding delicately, ‘tired out.’
‘Thank you, Uncle Mario.’
‘It’s settled then. We’ll see you very soon.’ He turned and issued orders to his men, then put an arm round Ezio and guided him in the direction of his castle, which dominated the little town.
‘How did you know I was on my way?’ asked Ezio.
Mario looked a little evasive. ‘Oh – a friend in Florence sent a messenger on horseback ahead of you. But I already knew what had happened. I haven’t the strength to march on Florence but now Lorenzo’s back let us pray he can keep the Pazzi in check. You’d better fill me in on my brother’s fate – and that of my nephews.’
Ezio paused. The memory of his kinsmen’s death still haunted the darkest part of his memories.
‘They… They were all executed for treason…’ He paused. ‘I escaped by the purest chance.’
‘My God,’ mouthed Mario, his face contorted with pain. ‘Do you know why this happened?’
‘No – but it is something I hope you may be able to help me find answers to.’ And Ezio went on to tell his uncle about the hidden chest in the family palazzo and its contents, and of his revenge on Alberti and the documents he had taken from him. ‘The most important-looking is a list of names,’ he added, then broke off in grief. ‘I cannot believe this has befallen us!’
Mario patted his arm. ‘I know something of your father’s business,’ he said, and it occurred to Ezio that Mario hadn’t shown much surprise when he’d told him of the hidden chest in the secret chamber. ‘We’ll make sense of this. But we must also make sure your mother and sister are properly provided for. My castle is not much of a place for women of any quality, and soldiers like me never really settle down; but there is a convent about a mile away where they will be completely safe and well cared for. If you agree, we will send them there. For you and I have much to do.’
Ezio nodded. He would see them settled and persuade Claudia that it was the best temporary solution, for he could not see her wanting to remain long in such seclusion.
They were approaching the little town.
‘I thought Monteriggioni was an enemy of Florence,’ Ezio said.
‘No so much of Florence as of the Pazzi,’ his uncle told him. ‘But you are old enough to know about alliances between city-states, whether they are big ones or small ones. One year there is a friendship, the next, enmity; and the following year there is friendship again. And so it seems to go on for ever, like a mad game of chess. But you’ll like it here. The people are honest and hard-working, and the goods we produce are solid and hard-wearing. The priest is a good man, doesn’t drink too much, and minds his own business. And I mind mine, around him – but I’ve never been a very devoted son of the Church myself. Best of all is the wine – the best Chianti you will ever taste comes from my own vineyards. Come, just a little further, and we’ll be there.’
Mario’s castle was the ancient seat of the Auditori and had been built in the 1250s, though the site had originally been occupied by a much more ancient construction. Mario had refined and added to the building, which nowadays had more of the appearance of an opulent villa, though its walls were high, many feet in thickness, and well fortified. Before it and in place of a garden was a large practice-
field, where Ezio could see a couple of dozen young armed men engaged in various exercises to improve their fighting technique.
‘Casa, dolce casa,’ said Mario. ‘You haven’t been here since you were a little boy. Been some changes since then. What do you think?’
‘It’s most impressive, Uncle.’
The rest of the day was filled with activity. Mario showed Ezio around the castle, organized his accommodation, and made sure that Claudia and Maria had been safely housed in the nearby convent, whose abbess was an old and dear friend (and, it was rumoured, long ago a mistress) of Mario. But the following morning he was summoned early to his uncle’s workroom, a large, high-ceilinged place, whose walls were festooned with maps, armour and weapons, and furnished with a heavy oak table and chairs.
‘You’d better get into the town quickly,’ Mario said one day soon afterwards in a businesslike voice. Get yourself properly kitted out. I’ll send one of my men with you. Come back here when you’ve finished and we’ll begin.’
‘Begin what, Uncle?’
Mario looked surprised. ‘I thought you’d come here to train.’
‘No, Uncle – that was not my intention. This was the first place of safety I could think of once we had to flee Florence. But my intention is to take my mother and sister further still.’
Mario looked grave. ‘But what about your father? Don’t you think he’d want you to finish his work?’
‘What – as a banker? The family business is over – the House of Auditore is no more, unless Duke Lorenzo has managed to keep it out of Pazzi hands.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of that,’ began Mario, and then interrupted himself. ‘Do you mean to say Giovanni never told you?’
‘I am sorry, Uncle, but I have no idea what you are talking about.’
Mario shook his head. ‘I don’t know what your father must have been thinking of. Perhaps he judged the time not to be right. But events have overtaken any such consideration now.’ He looked hard at Ezio. ‘We must talk, long and hard. Leave me the documents you have in your pouch. I must study them while you go into the town and get yourself equipped. Here’s a list of what you’ll need, and money to pay for it.’
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