Assassin's Creed: Renaissance

by Oliver Bowden

  For the next half-hour, Ezio and Leonardo were able - indeed, obliged - to enjoy the beauties of La Serenissima from the best place that it is possible to enjoy them - a gondola, expertly managed by its fore-and-aft gondoliers. But the enjoyment was marred by Nero's oily spiel. Ezio, despite his interest in the unique beauty and architecture of this place, still wet from his rescue of Madonna Caterina, and tired, tried to find refuge in sleep from Nero's dreary monologuing, but suddenly he snapped awake. Something had caught his attention.

  From the canal bank, not far from the palace of the Marchese de Ferrara, Ezio heard raised voices. Two armed guards were harassing a businessman.

  'You were told to stay at home, sir,' said one of the uniforms.

  'But the rent is paid. I have every right to sell my wares here.'

  'Sorry, sir, but it's in contravention of Messer Emilio's new rules. I'm afraid you're in rather a serious situation, sir.'

  'I'll appeal to the Council of Ten!'

  'No time for that, sir,' said the second uniform, kicking down the awning of the businessman's stall. The man was selling leather goods, and the uniforms, between them, while pocketing the best, threw most of his wares into the canal.

  'Now, let's not have any more of this nonsense, sir,' said one of the uniforms, as they swaggered off, unhurriedly.

  'What's going on?' Ezio asked Nero.

  'Nothing, Altezza. A little local difficulty. I beg you to ignore. And now we are about to pass under the famous wooden bridge of the Rialto, the only bridge over the Grand Canal, famed in all history for.'

  Ezio was happy to let the poor bugger ramble on, but what he had seen had disturbed him, and he had heard the name Emilio. A common enough Christian name - but: Emilio Barbarigo?

  Not long afterwards, Leonardo insisted that they stop so that he could look at a market with stands selling children's toys. He went up to the one that had caught his eye immediately. 'Look, Ezio,' he cried.

  'What have you found?'

  'It's a lay figure. A little articulated manikin we artists use as models. I could do with a couple. Would you be so kind - ? I seem to have sent my purse with my bags to my new workshop.'

  But as Ezio was reaching for his own purse, a bunch of young people pushed past them, and one of them tried to cut his purse from his belt.

  'Hey!' yelled Ezio. 'Coglione! Stop!' And he raced after them. The one he'd marked as his attacker turned for an instant, pushing a tress of auburn hair clear of the face. A woman's face! But then she was gone, vanishing into the crowd with her companions.

  They resumed their tour in silence, Leonardo, however, now contentedly clutching his two lay figures. Ezio was impatient to be rid of the buffoon who was their guide, and even of Leonardo. He needed time alone, time to think.

  'And now we approach the famous Palazzo Seta,' Nero droned on. 'Home of Su Altezza Emilio Barbarigo. Messer Barbarigo is famous at present for his attempts to unify the merchants of the city under his guiding control. A laudable undertaking which has, alas, encountered some resistance from the more radical elements in the city.'

  A grim fortified building stood back from the canal, allowing for a flagstoned space in front of it, at whose quay three gondolas were moored. As their own gondola passed, Ezio noticed the same businessman he had seen harassed earlier try to enter the building. He was being held back by two more guards, and Ezio noticed on their shoulders a yellow blazon crossed with a red chevron, below it a black horse, above it a dolphin, star and grenade. Barbarigo men, of course!

  'My stall has been destroyed, my goods ruined. I demand compensation!' the businessman was saying in an angry tone.

  'Sorry sir, we're closed,' said one of the uniforms, poking the poor man with his halberd.

  'I haven't finished with you. I'll report you to the Council!'

  'Much good may it do you,' snapped the older, second uniform. But now an officer and three more men appeared.

  'Causing an affray, are we?' said the officer.

  'No, I -'

  'Arrest this man!' barked the officer.

  'What are you doing?' said the businessman, frightened. Ezio watched powerless and in growing anger, but he had marked the place in his mind. The businessman was dragged off in the direction of the building, where a small ironclad door opened to admit him, and immediately closed behind him.

  'You haven't chosen the best of places, though it may be the prettiest,' Ezio told Leonardo.

  'I am beginning to wish that I'd plumped for Milan after all,' replied Leonardo. 'But a job is a job.'

  14

  13

  After Ezio had taken leave of Leonardo and settled into his own lodgings, he wasted no time in making his way back to the Palazzo Seta, not an easy task in this city of alleyways, twisting canals, low arches, little squares and dead-ends. But everyone knew the palazzo, and locals willingly gave him directions when he got lost - though they all seemed at a loss as to why anybody should wish to go there of their own free will. One or two suggested that it would be simplest for him to take a gondola, but Ezio wanted to familiarize himself with the city, as well as to arrive at his goal unnoticed.

  It was late afternoon as he approached the palazzo, though it was less of a palace than a fortress, or a prison, since the main building complex had been erected within the battlemented walls. On either side it was hemmed in by other buildings which were separated from it by narrow streets, but to its rear was what looked like a sizeable garden surrounded by another high wall, and at the front, facing the canal, was the wide, open area Ezio had seen earlier. Here now, though, a pitched battle seemed to be taking place between a bunch of Barbarigo guardsmen and a motley group of young people who were taunting them and then skipping lightly out of reach of their swinging halberds and stabbing pikes, throwing bricks, stones, and rotten eggs and fruit at the infuriated uniforms. Perhaps they were just creating a diversion, for Ezio, looking beyond them, could see a figure scaling the wall of the palazzo beyond the scene of the melee. Ezio was impressed - the wall was so sheer that even he would have thought twice about tackling it. But whoever it was reached the battlements without detection or difficulty, and then, astoundingly, leapt up from them to land on the roof of one of the watchtowers. Ezio could see that the person was planning to jump again from there to the roof of the palace itself and try to gain access to the interior from there, and he made a note of the tactic should he ever need - or be able - to use it himself. But the guards in the watchtower had heard the person land, and called a warning to their fellows on guard in the palace proper. A bowman appeared at a window in the eaves of the palace roof and fired. The figure jumped gracefully and the arrow went wide, clattering off the tiles, but the second time the archer fired his aim was true, and, with a faint cry, the figure staggered, clutching a wounded thigh.

  The bowman fired again, but missed, since the figure had retraced its steps, skipping from the tower roof back down to the battlements, along which other guardsmen were already running, then leapt back over the wall and half-slid, half-fell down it to the ground.

  On the other side of the open space in front of the palazzo, the Barbarigo guards were pushing their attackers back into the alleyways beyond, down which they were beginning to pursue them. Ezio took this opportunity to catch up with the figure, which was beginning to limp away to safety in the opposite direction.

  When he caught up, he was struck by the person's light, boy-like, but athletic shape. As he was about to offer his assistance, the person turned towards him and he recognized the face of the girl who'd tried to cut his purse in the market earlier.

  He found himself surprised, confused, and - curiously - smitten.

  'Give me your arm,' said the girl, urgently.

  'Don't you remember me?'

  'Should I?'

  'I'm the one you tried to rob in the market today.'

  'I'm sorry but this is no time for comfortable reminiscences. If we don't get out of sight fast we'll be dead meat.'

  As if
to illustrate her point, an arrow whizzed past between them. Ezio put her arm round his shoulders, and his round her waist, supporting her as he had once supported Lorenzo. 'Where to?'

  'The canal.'

  'Of course,' he said sarcastically. 'There's only one in Venice, isn't there?'

  'You're damned cocky for a newcomer. This way - I'll show you - but be quick! Look - they're after us already.' And it was true that a small detachment of men had started across the cobblestones towards them.

  One hand gripping her wounded thigh, and tense with pain, she guided Ezio down an alley, which led to another, and another, and another, until Ezio had lost all sense of the compass points. Behind them, the voices of the men pursuing them gradually receded and then were lost.

  'Hirelings brought in from the mainland,' said the girl in tones of great contempt. 'Don't stand a chance in this city against us locals. Get lost too easily. Come on!'

  They had arrived at a jetty on the Canale della Misericordia. A nondescript boat was tied up there with two men in it. On seeing Ezio and the girl, one immediately started to unloop the mooring-rope, while the other helped them in.

  'Who's he?' the second man asked the girl.

  'No idea, but he was in the right place at the right time and apparently he's no friend of Emilio's.'

  But she was close to fainting now.

  'Wounded in the thigh,' said Ezio.

  'I can't take that out now,' said the man, looking at the bolt where it had lodged. 'I haven't got any balsam or bandages here. We must get her back fast, and before those sewer-rats of Emilio's catch up with us.' He looked at Ezio. 'Who are you anyway?

  'My name is Auditore, Ezio. From Florence.'

  'Hmmn. Mine's Ugo. She's Rosa, and the guy up there with the paddle is Paganino. We don't like strangers much.'

  'Who are you?' Ezio replied, ignoring the last remark.

  'Professional liberators of other people's property,' said Ugo.

  'Thieves,' explained Paganino with a laugh.

  'You take the poetry out of everything,' said Ugo, sadly. The he suddenly became alert. 'Watch out!' he yelled as one arrow, then another, thudded into the hull of the boat from somewhere above. Looking up, they could see two Barbarigo bowmen on a nearby rooftop, fitting fresh arrows to their longbows. Ugo scrabbled in the well of the boat and came up with a businesslike, stubby crossbow, which he quickly loaded, aimed and fired, while at the same time Ezio flung two throwing-knives in quick succession at the other archer. Both bowmen plunged screaming into the canal below.

  'That bastard's got goons everywhere,' said Ugo to Paganino in a conversational tone.

  They were both short, broad-shouldered, tough-looking men in their twenties. They handled the boat skilfully and evidently knew the canal system like the backs of their hands, for more than once Ezio was convinced they had turned into the aquatic version of a blind alley only to find that it ended not in a brick wall but a low arch under which the boat could just pass, if they all bent low.

  'What were you doing attacking the Palazzo Seta?' Ezio asked.

  'What's it to you?' answered Ugo.

  'Emilio Barbarigo is no friend of mine. Perhaps we can help each other.'

  'What makes you think we need your help?' retorted Ugo.

  'Come on, Ugo,' said Rosa. 'Look what he's just done. And you're also overlooking the fact that he saved my life. I'm the best climber of the lot of us. Without me, we'll never get inside that viper's nest.' She turned her face to Ezio. 'Emilio is trying to get a monopoly on trade within the city. He's a powerful man, and he has several councillors in his pocket. It's getting to the stage when any businessman who defies him and tries to maintain his independence is simply silenced.'

  'But you aren't merchants - you're thieves.'

  'Professional thieves,' she corrected him. 'Individual businesses, individual shops, individual people - they all make for easier pickings than any corporate monopoly. Anyway, they have insurance, and the insurance companies pay up after fleecing their customers of giant premiums. So everyone's happy. Emilio would turn Venice into a desert for the likes of us.'

  'Not to mention that he's a piece of shit who wants to take over not just local business, but the city itself,' put in Ugo. 'But Antonio will explain.'

  'Antonio? Who's he?'

  'You'll find out soon enough, Mr Florentine.'

  At last they reached another jetty and tied up, moving quickly, since Rosa's wound needed to be cleaned and treated if she were not to die. Leaving Paganino with the boat, Ugo and Ezio between them half-dragged, half-carried Rosa, who had by now all but lost consciousness from loss of blood, the short distance down yet another twisting lane of dark-red brick and wood to a small square, a well and a tree at its centre, and surrounded by dirty-looking buildings from which the stucco had long since peeled.

  They made their way to the dirty-crimson door of one of the buildings and Ugo rapped a complex pattern of knocks on it. A peephole opened and shut, and the door was swiftly opened and as swiftly closed. Whatever else had been neglected, Ezio noticed, hinges and locks and bolts were well oiled and free of rust.

  He found himself in a shabby courtyard surrounded by high, streaky grey walls, which were punctuated by windows. Two wooden staircases ran up on either side to join wooden galleries that ran all round the walls at first- and second-floor level, and from which a number of doorways led.

  A handful of people, some of whom Ezio recognized from the melee outside the Palazzo Seta earlier, gathered round. Ugo was already issuing orders. 'Where's Antonio? Go get him! - And clear some space for Rosa, get a blanket, some balsam, hot water, a sharp knife, bandages.'

  A man raced up one of the staircases and vanished through a first-floor doorway. Two women unrolled a very nearly clean mat and laid Rosa tenderly down on it. A third disappeared to return with the medical kit Ugo had requested. Rosa recovered consciousness, saw Ezio, and reached a hand out to him. He took her hand and knelt down by her.

  'Where are we?'

  'I think this must be your people's headquarters. In any case, you're safe.'

  She squeezed his hand. 'I'm sorry I tried to rob you.'

  'Think nothing of it.'

  'Thank you for saving my life.'

  Ezio looked anxious. She was very pale. They would have to work fast if they were indeed going to save her.

  'Don't worry, Antonio will know what to do,' Ugo told him as he stood up again.

  Hurrying down one of the staircases came a well-dressed man in his late thirties, a large gold earring in his left earlobe and a scarf on his head. He made straight for Rosa and knelt by her, snapping his fingers for the medical kit.

  'Antonio!' she said.

  'What's happened to you, my little darling?' he said in the harsh accent of the born Venetian.

  'Just get this thing out of me!' snarled Rosa.

  'Let me take a look first,' said Antonio, his voice suddenly more serious. He examined the wound carefully. 'Clean entry and exit through your thigh, missed the bone. Lucky it wasn't a crossbow bolt.'

  Rosa gritted her teeth. 'Just. Get it. Out.'

  'Give her something to bite on,' said Antonio. He snapped off the arrow's fletching, wrapped a cloth round the head, soaked the points of entry and exit with balsam, and pulled.

  Rosa spat out the wadding they'd placed between her teeth and screamed.

  'I am sorry, piccola,' said Antonio, keeping his hands pressed on both points of the wound.

  'Go fuck yourself with your apologies, Antonio!' yelped Rosa, as the women held her down.

  Antonio looked up to one of his entourage. 'Michiel! Go and fetch Bianca!' He cast a sharp eye on Ezio. 'And you! Help me with this! Take those compresses and hold them on the wounds as soon as I remove my hands. Then we can bandage her properly.'

  Ezio hastened to obey. He felt the warmth of Rosa's upper thigh under his hands, felt the reaction of her body to them, and tried not to meet her eyes. Meanwhile Antonio worked quickly, elbowing Ezio as
ide at last, and finally gently articulating Rosa's immaculately bandaged leg. 'Good,' he said. 'It'll be a while before we have you scaling any battlements again, but I think you'll make a full recovery. Just be patient. I know you!'

  'Did you have to hurt me so much, you clumsy idiota?' she flared at him. 'I hope you catch the plague, you bastard! You and your whore of a mother!'

  'Take her inside,' said Antonio, smiling. 'Ugo, go with her. Make sure she gets some rest.'

  Four of the women picked up the corners of the mat and carried the still-protesting Rosa through one of the ground-floor doors. Antonio watched them go, then turned again to Ezio. 'Thank you,' he said. 'That little bitch is most dear to me. If I had lost her -'

  Ezio shrugged. 'I've always had a soft spot for damsels in distress.'

  'I'm glad Rosa didn't hear you say that, Ezio Auditore. But your reputation goes before you.'

  'I didn't hear Ugo tell you my name,' said Ezio, on his guard.

  'He didn't. But we know all about your work in Florence and San Gimignano. Good work too, if a little unrefined.'

  'Who are you people?'

  Antonio spread his hands. 'Welcome to the headquarters of the Guild of Professional Thieves and Whoremongers of Venice,' he said. 'I am de Magianis, Antonio - the amministratore.' He gave an ironic bow. 'But of course we only steal from the rich to give to the poor, and of course our whores prefer to call themselves courtesans.'

  'And you know why I am here?'