‘Bene,’ said Ezio. ‘Then we must follow that up.’
‘There’s something else,’ said Machiavelli. ‘We have news that they are planning to station French troops on the road that leads to Castel Sant’Angelo. Your attack must have really rattled them. And apparently Cesare is planning to return to Rome. Immediately. Quite why so soon is beyond me, but we’ll find out. In any case, when he does arrive, he’ll be so well guarded that you’ll never get to him. Our spies tell us that he intends to keep his return secret, at least for the moment.’
‘He’s got something up his sleeve,’ said La Volpe.
‘Brilliant,’ said Machiavelli, and the two men exchanged a look that wasn’t friendly.
Ezio considered this. ‘Our best course of action would seem to be to corner this French general of theirs, Octavien, and kill him. Once he’s out of the way, Bartolomeo will have the Frenchmen on the defensive, and they’ll abandon their guard duty at the Castel.’
Caterina spoke for the first time: ‘Even with those troops gone, Ezio, the Papal Guard will continue to protect the bridge and the main gate.’
‘Ah,’ said La Volpe, ‘but there’s a side entrance. Lucrezia’s latest plaything, the actor Pietro Benintendi, has a key.’
‘Does he?’ said Ezio. ‘I saw him with her at the Castel.’
‘I’ll have my men find out where he is,’ promised La Volpe. Shouldn’t be too difficult.’
Caterina smiled. ‘Sounds like a good idea. I’d like to help. We should be able to scare that key out of him – and he’ll stop seeing Lucrezia. Anything to rob that bitch of any pleasure.’
‘Momentino, Contessa,’ said Machiavelli. ‘We are going to have to do without your help.’
Caterina looked at him, surprised. ‘Why?’
‘Because we are going to have to get you out of the city – maybe to Florence – until we can get Forlì back for you. Your children are already safe there.’ He looked around. ‘Ezio’s rescuing you wasn’t without its consequences. There are heralds all over the city, proclaiming a rich reward for the Contessa’s capture – alive or dead. And no bribe can shut them up.’
There was silence. Then Caterina rose, letting the rug fall to the floor. ‘Then it appears that I have outstayed my welcome,’ she said. ‘Excuse me.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Ezio, alarmed.
‘Only that I am in danger here—’
‘We will protect you!’
‘And – more importantly – a liability to you.’ She was looking at Machiavelli as she spoke. ‘Isn’t that so, Niccolò?’
Machiavelli was silent.
‘I am answered,’ said Caterina. ‘I will make my preparations at once.’
29
‘Are you sure you’re able to ride?’ Ezio asked her.
‘I rode from the Castel when you rescued me, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but then there was no choice.’
‘Is there a choice now?’
Ezio was silent. It was the following morning and Ezio watched as Caterina and her two female attendants packed the few clothes and provisions Claudia had organized for her journey. She would leave the next day before dawn. A small escort of Ezio’s men would ride with her part of the way, to see her safely out of Rome. Ezio had offered to join them, but this Caterina had refused. ‘I don’t like goodbyes,’ she’d said. ‘And the more drawn-out they are, the worse they are.’
He watched her as she bustled about her packing. He thought about the times they had had together, long ago in Forlì, and then about what he had fondly imagined was a reunion in Monteriggioni. The Assassin Brotherhood seemed to have taken over his life – and left him solitary.
‘I wish you would stay,’ he said.
‘Ezio, I can’t. You know I can’t.’
‘Dismiss your women.’
‘I have to hurry.’
‘Dismiss them. This won’t take long.’
She did so, but he could see with what reluctance, and even then she said, ‘Be sure to return in five minutes by the water clock.’
Once they were alone, he didn’t know where to begin.
‘Well?’ she said, more gently, and he could see that her eyes were troubled, though by what, he could not tell.
‘I … I rescued you,’ he said lamely.
‘You did, and I am grateful. But didn’t you tell the others that you did so purely because I am still a useful ally – even with Forlì gone?’
‘We’ll get Forlì back.’
‘And then I shall go there again.’
Ezio was silent again. His heart felt empty.
She came up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘Ezio, listen. I am no use to anyone without Forlì. If I leave now, it is to seek safety and to be with my children. Don’t you want that for me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, then …’
‘I didn’t rescue you because you’re valuable to the cause.’
It was her turn to be silent.
‘But because—’
‘Don’t say it, Ezio.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I cannot say it back.’
No weapon could have cut him more deeply than those words. ‘You used me then?’
‘That sounds rather harsh.’
‘What other words would you wish me to use?’
‘I tried to explain earlier.’
‘You are a ruthless woman.’
‘I am a woman with work to do, and a duty.’
‘Then whatever serves your cause, goes.’
She was silent again, then said, ‘I’ve tried to explain this to you already. You must accept it.’ She had taken her hands from his shoulders. He could see that her mind had wandered back to her journey and that she was looking at the things yet to be packed.
He thought, recklessly, To hell with the Brotherhood! I know what I want! Why shouldn’t I live for myself, for a change?
‘I’m coming with you,’ he said.
She turned to him again, her eyes serious. ‘Listen, Ezio. Perhaps you are making a choice, but you are making it too late. Perhaps I have done the same thing. But you are leader of the Assassins now. Don’t give up the work you have started, the great work of rebuilding after the disaster at Monteriggioni. Without you, things will fall apart again, and then who will there be to save us?’
‘But you never really wanted me.’
He looked at her. She was still there, in the room with him, but her spirit had long gone. How long ago it had left him, he did not know – perhaps it had never really been there. Perhaps he had only hoped for it, or imagined it. At that moment, he felt that he was looking at the corpse of love, yet still he refused to believe in its death. But like any other death, he saw that he had no choice but to get used to the reality.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ said Caterina, and her attendants returned.
Ezio left them to their packing.
The next morning, Ezio was determined to resist seeing Caterina off, but he could not. It was cold, and when he got to the appointed square, in a safe district of the city, they were already mounted, the horses restless. Perhaps, even now, at the last moment, she would relent. But her eyes, though kind, were distant. He thought he could have borne things better if she hadn’t looked at him with kindness. Kindness was almost humiliating.
All he could say was, ‘Buona fortuna, Contessa, and … farewell.’
‘Let’s hope it’s not “farewell”.’
‘Oh, I think it is.’
She looked at him once more. ‘Well then – buona fortuna anche, my Prince; and – Vittoria agli Assassini!’
She wheeled her horse round and, without another word or even a backward glance, at the head of her guardian entourage, she galloped north out of the city and out of his life. He watched them until they were mere specks in the distance, a lonely, middle-aged man who had been given a last chance at love, and missed it.
‘Vittoria agli
Assassini,’ murmured Ezio tonelessly to himself, as he turned and made his way back into the still-sleeping city.
30
With Cesare’s return imminent, Ezio had to put his private grief aside and get on with the work Fate had given him. In his attempt to cut Cesare off from his funds, the first step was to find and neutralize Cesare’s banker, and the initial lead as to who that was would come from The Rosa in Fiore.
‘What do you want?’ Claudia couldn’t have been less friendly if she’d tried.
‘You spoke of a senator at the meeting.’
‘Yes I did. Why?’
‘You said he owed money to Cesare’s banker. Is he here?’
She shrugged. ‘You’ll probably find him on the Campidoglio. Surely you don’t need my help for that?’
‘What does he look like?’
‘Oh, let me see, average?’
‘Don’t play games with me, Sister.’
Claudia relented slightly. ‘He’s maybe sixty, lean, worried-looking, clean-shaven, grey hair, your height or a little less. Name’s Egidio Troche. Stubborn type, Ezio, pessimistic, set in his ways. You’ll have your work cut out trying to get round him.’
‘Thank you.’ Ezio looked at her hard. ‘Now, I intend to track down this banker and kill him. I’ve a pretty shrewd idea who he is, but I need to find out where he lives. This senator could lead me to him.’
‘The banker’s security’s pretty tight. So would yours be, if you were in a position like his.’
‘You think mine isn’t?’
‘As if I cared.’
‘Listen, Claudia, if I’m tough with you, it’s because I worry about you.’
‘Spare me.’
‘You’re doing well—’
‘Thank you, kind sir—’
‘But I need you to organize a big job for me. Once I have neutralized this banker, I need your girls to get his money to a place of safety.’
‘Just let me know when – or should I say “if” – you succeed.’
‘Just stay alert.’
In a dark mood, Ezio set off for the Capitoline Hill, the administrative centre of Rome, where he was greeted by a busy scene. There were several senators going about their business in the broad piazza around which the government buildings were arranged, accompanied by secretaries and assistants, who carried papers in leather folders and bustled after their masters as they moved from building to building, all of them trying to look as busy and important as possible. As far as he could, Ezio blended into the melee, keeping a watchful eye out for a man answering the description Claudia had given him. As he moved through the crowd, he kept his ears pricked for any hint he might pick up about his quarry. There was certainly no sign of Egidio among the senators at the moment, though he seemed to be providing his colleagues with a lively topic of conversation.
‘Egidio’s been asking for money again,’ said one.
‘When doesn’t he? What’s it for this time?’
‘Oh, some proposal to reduce the number of public executions.’
‘Ridiculous!’
Ezio moved on to another knot of senators, and there he gleaned more information. He wasn’t sure, from what he heard, whether Egidio was a militant (and therefore foolish) liberal reformer, or a rather ham-fisted conman.
‘Egidio’s petitioning for an end to the torturing of witnesses in the criminal courts,’ the leading member of the next group was saying.
‘Fat chance!’ replied the harassed-looking man he was talking to. ‘It’s just a front, anyway. All he really wants the money for is to pay off his debts.’
‘And he wants to get rid of exemption licences.’
‘Please! Like that’s going to happen. Every citizen who feels mistreated by our laws should surely be permitted to pay for an exemption from those laws. It’s our duty. After all, it’s our own Holy Father who brought the exemption licences in, and he’s following the example of Christ Himself – “Blessed are the Merciful”!’
Another Borgia scam for making money, thought Ezio, while the other senator rejoined, ‘Why should we give any money to Egidio? Everyone knows what he’d do with it.’
The two men laughed and went about their business.
Ezio’s attention was then attracted by a small group of Borgia guards who had Cesare’s personal crest – two red bulls, quartered with fleurs-de-lys – sewn onto their doublets. As this always spelt trouble, he made his way over to them and saw, as he approached, that they had surrounded one of the senators. The others were carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, but Ezio could see that they left plenty of space between the guards and themselves.
The unfortunate senator answered Claudia’s description perfectly.
‘No more arguing,’ the guards’ sergeant was saying.
‘Your payment’s due,’ added his corporal. ‘And a debt’s a debt.’
Egidio had dropped any pretence of dignity and was pleading. ‘Make an exception for an old man,’ he quavered. ‘I beg of you.’
‘No,’ snarled the sergeant, nodding to two of his men, who seized Egidio and threw him to the ground. ‘The banker has sent us to collect, and you know what that means.’
‘Look, give me until tomorrow – this evening! – I’ll have the money ready then.’
‘Not good enough,’ responded the sergeant, kicking the senator hard in the stomach. He stepped back and the corporal and the other two guards set about belabouring the prostrate old man.
‘That won’t get you your money,’ said Ezio, stepping forward.
‘Who are you? Friend of his?’
‘I’m a concerned bystander.’
‘Well, you can take your concern and mind your own fucking business!’
The sergeant, as Ezio had hoped, stepped too close, and with practised ease Ezio slipped the catch on his Hidden Blade and, raising his arm, swept it across the guard’s exposed throat, just above the gorget he was wearing. The other guards watched, rooted to the spot in astonishment as their leader fell to his knees, his hands futilely scrabbling at the wound to staunch the fountain of blood. Before they could react, Ezio was upon them, and a matter of seconds later, the three of them had joined their sergeant on the Other Side, all three with their throats slit. Ezio’s mission left no time for sword play, only swift, efficient killing.
During the skirmish the piazza emptied as if by magic. Ezio helped the senator to his feet. There was blood on the man’s clothes and he looked – and indeed was – in a state of shock mingled with relief.
‘We’d better get out of here,’ Ezio said to him.
‘I know a place. Follow me,’ Egidio replied, and set off with remarkable speed for an alleyway between two of the larger government buildings. They hastened down it, turned left, then down some stairs into a basement area which contained a door. This the senator hastily unlocked, ushering Ezio into a small, dark, but comfortable-looking apartment.
‘My bolthole,’ said Egidio. ‘Useful when you have as many creditors as I have.
‘But one big one.’
‘My mistake was to consolidate all my debts with the banker. I wasn’t fully aware of his exact connections at the time. I should have stuck to Chigi. At least he’s honest – as far as a banker can be!’ Egidio paused. ‘But what of you? A Good Samaritan in Rome? I thought they were a dying breed.’
Ezio let that go. ‘You are Senatore Egidio Troche?’
Egidio looked startled. ‘Don’t tell me I owe you money as well?!’
‘No, but you can help me. I am looking for Cesare’s banker.’
The senator smiled thinly. ‘Cesare Borgia’s banker? Ha! And you are?’
‘Just let’s say I’m a friend of the family.’
‘Cesare has a lot of friends these days. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have some packing to do.’
‘I can pay.’
Egidio stopped looking nervous. ‘Ah! You can pay? Ma che meraviglia! He fights off guards for one and he o
ffers one money! Tell me, where have you been all my life?’
‘Well, I haven’t descended from heaven. You help me and I’ll help you. It’s as simple as that.’
Egidio considered this. ‘We’ll go to my brother’s place. They’ve got no quarrel with him, and we can’t stay here – it’s too depressing, and it’s far too close to my – dare I say, our? – enemies.’
‘Let’s go, then.’
‘But you’ll have to protect me. There’ll be more of Cesare’s guards out after me, and they won’t be especially friendly, if you know what I mean – especially after that little show you put on in the piazza.’
‘Come on.’
Egidio led the way out cautiously, making sure the coast was clear before they set off by a labyrinthine route through back alleys and seedy lanes, across little piazze, and skirting the edges of markets. Twice they encountered pairs of guards, and twice Ezio had to fight them off, this time using his sword to full effect. It seemed that the city was on full alert for both men – and both men in flight together proved too good a bounty for the Borgia henchmen. Time was not on Ezio’s side, so when the next pair of guards appeared at the far side of a small piazza, they simply had to run for it, and Ezio, unable to take to the rooftops with the senator in tow, had to depend on Egidio’s apparently exhaustive knowledge of Rome’s backstreets. At last they reached the back of a new and quietly splendid villa, set in its own walled courtyard, a few blocks east of St Peter’s. Egidio let them into the courtyard through a small iron-bound gate set into one of the walls, for which he produced a key.
Once inside, they both breathed more easily.
‘Someone really wants you dead,’ said Ezio.
‘Not yet – they want me to pay them first.’
‘Why only once they’ve got their money? By the sound of things you’re something of a milch cow to them.’
‘It isn’t that simple. The fact is, I’ve been a fool. I’m no friend of the Borgia, even if I have borrowed money from them, and recently a bit of information came my way, which gave me an opportunity to do them down – if only a little.’
‘And that was?’
‘A few months ago, my brother Francesco, who’s Cesare’s chamberlain – I know, I know, don’t get me started – told me a good deal about Cesare’s plans for the Romagna. He plans to create a mini-kingdom there, from which he intends to conquer the rest of the country and bring it to heel. As the Romagna is on the doorstep of the Venetian territories, Venice is already unhappy about Cesare’s inroads there.’
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