Assassin’s Creed®

by Oliver Bowden

  ‘Get out of here,’ said Claudia. ‘We’ll recover the money. With interest.’

  ‘Can you—?’

  ‘Just … just this once, trust me, Ezio.’

  34

  Though his mind remained full of misgivings about leaving his sister in charge, Ezio admitted to himself that he had, after all, asked her to do this job for him. A lot hung on it, but he had better do as she’d said and trust her.

  It was cold in the small hours of the new day, and he pulled his hood up as he slipped past the dozing guards posted outside the banker’s palazzo. The torches had burned low and the house itself, no longer so brilliantly lit from within, seemed old, grey and tired. He toyed with the idea of going after Rodrigo, whom he hadn’t seen since his furious departure from the dais after Cesare’s speech – Cesare clearly had not chosen to stay at the party – but he put the notion aside. He wasn’t going to storm the Vatican single-handed and he was tired.

  Ezio returned to Tiber Island to clean up and refresh himself, but he didn’t linger over it. He had to find out, as soon as possible, how Claudia had fared; only then would he be able truly to relax.

  The sun was appearing over the horizon, turning the rooftops of Rome gold, as he skimmed over them in the direction of The Rosa in Fiore. From his vantage point, he saw a number of Borgia patrols running about the city in a state of high excitement and agitation, but the brothel was well-hidden, and its location was a respected secret among its clients – they certainly wouldn’t want to be answerable to Cesare if he got wind of it – so Ezio wasn’t surprised to find no Borgia uniforms in its vicinity. He dropped down to a street not far away, and walked, trying not to hurry, towards the bordello.

  As he approached, however, he tensed. Outside, there were signs of a struggle and the pavement was stained with blood. Drawing his sword, and with a pounding heart, he made his way through the door, which he found ajar.

  The furniture in the reception room had been overturned and the place was a mess. Broken vases lay on the floor, and the pictures on the walls – tasteful illustrations of some of the juicier episodes in Boccaccio – were askew. But that was not all. The bodies of three dead Borgia guards lay in the entrance and there was blood everywhere. He was making his way forward when one of the courtesans – the selfsame girl who had suffered at the hands of the banker – came to greet him. Her dress and hands were covered in blood, but her eyes were shining.

  ‘Oh, Ezio, thank God you’re here.’

  ‘What happened?’ His thoughts flew to his mother and sister.

  ‘We got away all right, but the Borgia guards must have followed us all the way back here—’

  ‘What happened?!’

  ‘They tried to trap us inside – to ambush us.’

  ‘Where are Claudia and Maria?’

  The girl was crying now. ‘Follow me.’

  She preceded him in the direction of the inner courtyard of The Rosa in Fiore. Ezio followed, still in great trepidation, but he noticed that the girl was unarmed and, despite her distress, she led the way without fear. What kind of massacre … ? Had the guards killed everyone except her – how had she escaped? – and left taking the money with them?

  The girl pushed open the door leading to the courtyard, where an appalling sight greeted his eyes , though it was not the one he had expected.

  There were dead Borgia guards everywhere, and those that were alive were badly wounded or dying. In their midst, by the fountain, stood Claudia, her dress drenched in blood, with a rondel dagger in one hand and a stiletto in the other. Most of the girls whom Ezio had seen at the banker’s palazzo stood near her, similarly armed. To one side, protected by three of the girls, was Maria, and behind her, stacked against the wall, was not one, but seven metal boxes of the same type that Ezio had delivered to the banker.

  Claudia was still on guard, as were the other women, expecting another wave of attacks.

  ‘Ezio!’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, though he was looking at the carnage.

  ‘How did you come here?’

  ‘Over the rooftops, from Tiber Island.’

  ‘Did you see any more of them?’

  ‘Plenty, but they were running around in circles. None were near here.’

  His sister relaxed slightly. ‘Good. Then we must get the street outside cleaned up and the door closed. Then we must do something about this mess.’

  ‘Did you … lose anyone?’

  ‘Two – Lucia and Agnella. We have already laid them on their beds. They died bravely.’

  She wasn’t even trembling.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Ezio hesitantly.

  ‘Perfectly,’ she replied, composed. ‘We’ll need help disposing of this lot. Can you drum up some of your recruits to help? We left our new friends, the servants, behind at the palazzo, so that they can put anybody who asks off the scent.’

  ‘Did any of this patrol escape?’

  Claudia looked grim. She hadn’t yet lowered either of her weapons. ‘Not one. No news will get back to Cesare.’

  Ezio was silent for a moment. Nothing could be heard but the splashing of the fountain and the song of the morning birds.

  ‘How long ago?’

  She half smiled. ‘You just missed the party.’

  He smiled back. ‘No need for me. My sister knows how to wield a knife.’

  ‘And I’m ready to do it again.’

  ‘You speak like a true Auditore. Forgive me.’

  ‘You needed to test me.’

  ‘I wanted to protect you.’

  ‘As you see, I can take care of myself.’

  ‘I do see.’

  Claudia dropped her weapons and made a gesture towards the treasure chests. ‘Enough interest for you?’

  ‘I see that you can totally outplay me and I am lost in admiration.’

  ‘Good.’

  Then they did what they had been wanting to do for the last five minutes, and flung themselves into each other’s arms

  ‘Excellent,’ said Maria, joining them. ‘It’s good to see you’ve both come to your senses at last!’

  35

  ‘Ezio!’

  Ezio hadn’t expected to hear the familiar voice again so soon. A pessimistic part of him had not expected to hear it again at all. Nevertheless, he’d been pleased to get the note left for him at Tiber Island bidding him to this rendezvous, which he was keeping on his way to the Sleeping Fox, the headquarters of La Volpe’s Thieves’ Guild in Rome.

  He looked round, but there was no one to be seen. The streets were empty, even of Borgia uniforms, for he was already in a district reclaimed by La Volpe’s men.

  ‘Leonardo?’

  ‘Over here!’ The voice came from a darkened doorway.

  Ezio walked across to it and Leonardo dragged him into the shadows.

  ‘Were you followed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thank God. I’ve been sweating blood.’

  ‘Were you … ?’

  ‘No. My friend, Messer Salai, watches my back. I’d trust him with my life.’

  ‘Your friend?’

  ‘We’re very close.’

  ‘Be careful, Leo, you have a soft heart where young men are concerned and that could be a chink in your armour.’

  ‘I may be soft-hearted, but I’m not a fool. Now, come on.’

  Leonardo pulled Ezio out of the doorway after first looking up and down the street. A few yards to the right, he ducked down an alleyway that snaked between windowless buildings and featureless walls for a furlong or so, at which point it became part of a crossroads with three other alleys. Leonardo took the one on the left, and after another few yards arrived at a low, narrow door, which was painted dark green. This he unlocked. Both men had to squeeze through the entrance, but once inside Ezio found himself in a large vaulted hall. Natural light bathed the place through windows placed high in the walls, and the room was filled with trestle tables, cluttered and crowded with all manner of stuff: easels
; animal skeletons; dusty books; maps, rare and precious, like all maps – the Assassin Brotherhood’s own collection at Monteriggioni had been invaluable, but the Borgia in their ignorance had destroyed the map room with cannonades, and so had no use of them themselves – pencils, pens, brushes, paints, piles of papers and drawings pinned to the walls … In short, it was the typical, familiar and somehow comforting clutter of Leonardo’s studios wherever Ezio had encountered them.

  ‘This is my own place,’ said Leonardo proudly. ‘As far as possible from my official workshop near Castel Sant’Angelo. No one comes here but me. And Salai, of course.’

  ‘Don’t they keep tabs on you?’

  ‘They did for a while, but I’m good at ingratiation when it suits me and they swallowed the act whole. I rent this place from the Cardinal of San Pietro in Vincoli. He knows how to keep a secret and he’s no friend of the Borgia.’

  ‘There’s no harm in taking out a little insurance for the future?’

  ‘Ezio, my friend, nothing, but nothing, gets past you! Now, to business. I don’t know if there’s anything I can offer you – there must be a bottle of wine somewhere.’

  ‘Leave it, don’t worry. Just tell me why you sent for me.’

  Leonardo went over to one of the trestle tables on the right-hand side of the hall and rummaged underneath it, then produced a long, leather-bound, wooden case, which he placed on the tabletop.

  ‘Here we are,’ he said with a flourish as he opened it.

  The case was lined in purple velvet – ‘Salai’s idea, bless him!’ explained Leonardo – and contained perfect copies of Ezio’s lost Codex weapons: there was the Bracer for protecting the left forearm, the little retractable Pistol, the Double-Bladed Dagger and the Poison Blade.

  ‘The Bracer was the biggest problem,’ continued Leonardo. ‘It was very hard to get a match for that extraordinary metal. From what you told me of the accident in which you lost the originals, it might have survived. If you could get it back … ?’

  ‘If it did survive, it will be buried under several tons of rubble,’ said Ezio. ‘It might as well be at the bottom of the sea.’ He slipped the Bracer on. It felt a little heavier than the first, but it looked as if it would serve very well. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ he said.

  ‘That’s easy,’ replied Leonardo. ‘With money! But these are not all.’ He delved under the table again and brought out another case, larger than the first. ‘These are new, and may come in handy from time to time.’

  He opened the lid to reveal a lightweight crossbow with a set of bolts, a set of darts and a mailed leather glove.

  ‘The darts are poisoned,’ said Leonardo, ‘so don’t ever touch the points with your bare hands. If you can retrieve them from your – ahem – target, you’ll find they are re-usable up to a dozen times.’

  ‘And the glove?’

  Leonardo smiled. ‘I’m rather proud of that. It’ll enable you to climb on any surface with ease. Almost as good as becoming a gecko.’ He paused, troubled. ‘We haven’t actually tested it on glass, but I doubt if you’ll ever encounter a surface that smooth.’ He paused. ‘The crossbow’s just a crossbow, but it’s very compact and light. What makes it special is that it’s just as powerful as those heavy things which are now being superseded by my wheel-locks – forgive me – and of course the advantage it has over a gun is that it’s more or less silent.’

  ‘I can’t carry these with me now.’

  Leonardo shrugged. ‘No problem. We’ll deliver them. To Tiber Island?’

  Ezio considered. ‘No. There’s a bordello called The Rosa in Fiore. It’s in the rione Montium et Biberatice, near the old forum with the column.’

  ‘We’ll find it.’

  ‘Leave them there with my sister, Claudia. May I?’ Ezio took a sheet of paper and scribbled something on it. ‘Give this to her. I’ve sketched its location, as it’s hard to find. I’ll get the money to you as soon as possible.’

  ‘Five thousand ducats.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Not cheap, these things …’

  Ezio pursed his lips. ‘Fine.’ He took back the note and wrote an additional line. ‘We have recently come into some new and … unexpected funds. My sister will pay you. And listen, Leo, I have to trust you. Not a word to anyone else.’

  ‘Even Salai?’

  ‘Salai if you have to. But if the brothel’s location is discovered by the Borgia, I will kill Salai, and I will kill you, my friend.’

  Leonardo smiled. ‘I know these are very troubled times, my dear, but when – when – have I ever let you down?’

  Content with that, Ezio took leave of his friend and continued on his way to the Sleeping Fox. He was running late, but the meeting with Leonardo had been more than worth it.

  He went through the courtyard, pleased to see that business still seemed to be booming, and was about to announce himself to the thieves standing guard on either side of the door marked Uffizi when La Volpe himself appeared, apparently out of nowhere – he was good at that.

  ‘Buongiorno, Ezio!’

  ‘Ciao, Gilberto!’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve come. What is it you want?’

  ‘Let’s sit somewhere quiet.’

  ‘In the Uffizi?’

  ‘Let’s stay here. What I have to say is for your ears alone.’

  ‘That’s good, for I have something to say to you, too, which should stay between us – for now.’

  They settled down at a table in an otherwise empty bar inside the inn, away from the gamblers and drinkers.

  ‘It’s time to pay a visit to Lucrezia’s lover, Pietro,’ said Ezio.

  ‘Good. I’ve already got men out looking for him.’

  ‘Molto bene, but a working actor shouldn’t be that hard to find, and this one’s famous.’

  La Volpe shook his head. ‘He’s famous enough to have minders of his own. And we think he may have gone to ground because he’s frightened of Cesare.’

  ‘That makes sense. Well, do your best. Now, what is it you have on your mind?’

  La Volpe wrestled with himself for a moment, then said, ‘It’s delicate … Ezio, if I may …’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Someone has warned Rodrigo to stay away from the Castel Sant’Angelo.’

  ‘And you think that someone is … Machiavelli?’

  La Volpe was silent.

  ‘Do you have proof?’ Ezio pressed him.

  ‘No, but …’

  ‘I know that Machiavelli troubles you, but listen, Gilberto, we must not be split apart by suspicion.’

  At that moment the door banged open and they were interrupted by the arrival of a wounded thief, who staggered into the room. ‘Bad news!’ he cried. ‘The Borgia know the whereabouts of our spies!’

  ‘Who told them?’ thundered La Volpe, rising.

  ‘Maestro Machiavelli was asking about our search for the actor, Pietro, earlier today.’

  La Volpe’s hand tightened into a fist. ‘Ezio?’ he said quietly.

  ‘They’ve got four of our men under guard,’ said the thief. ‘I was lucky to get away.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Not far from here, near Santa Maria dell’Orto.’

  ‘Come on!’ La Volpe yelled to Ezio.

  Within minutes, La Volpe’s men had readied two horses and the two Assassins rode out of the stables of the Sleeping Fox at breakneck speed.

  ‘I still do not believe Machiavelli has turned traitor,’ insisted Ezio as they rode.

  ‘He went quiet for a bit, to allay our doubts,’ La Volpe hurled back. ‘But look at the facts: first the attack on Monteriggioni, then the business at the Castel Sant’Angelo, and now this. He is behind it all.’

  ‘Just ride! Ride like the devil! We may still be in time to save them.’

  They galloped helter-skelter through the narrow streets, reining in and thrusting forward as they strove to avoid injuring the people and smashing down the market booths in their path. Citizens and
chickens alike scattered in their path, but when Borgia guards tried to block their way, halberds raised, they simply rode them down.

  They reached the place the wounded thief had indicated within seven minutes, and saw the Borgia uniforms preparing to pack the four captured thieves onto a covered wagon, hitting them with the pommels of their swords and taunting them as they did so. In a moment, Ezio and La Volpe were upon them like avenging Furies.

  Swords drawn, they steered their mounts skilfully among the guards, cutting them off from their prisoners and dispersing them about the square in front of the church. Grasping his sword firmly in his right hand, La Volpe let go of his reins with his left and, holding on with his thighs, wheeled the horse towards the wagon, seized the driver’s whip from him and struck hard at the flanks of the horses in the shafts. They reared and neighed, then stampeded off, as the waggoner strove in vain to control them. Hurling the whip aside, and almost falling, La Volpe grabbed his reins again and swung his horse round to join Ezio, who was surrounded by five guards, who were stabbing at his horse’s chest and quarters with their halberds. Flailing them with his sword, La Volpe gave Ezio enough time to break free of the trap and slice open the midriff of the closest guard. Turning the horse round in a tight circle, he swiped again with his sword and neatly severed the head from the body of another. Meanwhile, La Volpe had despatched the last of the guards, while the rest either lay wounded or had fled.

  ‘Run, you swine!’ La Volpe yelled at his men. ‘Back to base! Now! We’ll join you there.!’

  The four thieves pulled themselves together and darted down the main street out of the square, ducking and diving through the small crowd that had gathered to watch the fight. Ezio and La Volpe rode after, shepherding them to make sure they all got back in one piece.

  They made their way into the Sleeping Fox by a secret side entrance and had soon assembled in the bar, which now had a ‘Closed’ sign on its door. La Volpe ordered beer for his men, but did not wait for it to arrive before he started his interrogation.