The Family Auditore – Chapter 1 – Prologue – The Templar Secret -
November 1456
He had never been so cold.
His warm woolen clothing did nothing to keep out the chill. How did the people here survive the merciless elements? The wind and snow made him wonder why he had even come to this God-forsaken country.
The snows of the Pyrenees he had heard were brutal, but he never imagined them this bad. Several hours ago he had lost feeling in his feet and hands. He walked along and finally saw a light ahead of him. At first his hands and feet had itched terribly.
He walked to it and found a door to the side of it. He knocked softly at first and then with more vigor as he shivered. He knew soon he would stop shivering and would be so cold he would start having limbs turn back. His fingers and no doubt toes were waxy feeling and he could barely still feel his palms.
The door opened to reveal a rather burly man dressed in workman's clothing. "What are you doing here?" The man demanded in Basque.
The gutter-speak was hard for the freezing man to follow and he looked up at the man as he held his shoulders. Clearly realizing the man before him was freezing to death, his sense of duty overrode his suspicion of the Spanish man before him. Castilians were welcome if they could remain civil, but this man was hardly in a position to argue anything as the blizzard raged.
The man pulled him into his home and looked him over. Frostbite was setting into his features. The Castilian watched the other man, but he was no threat. He spread his hands to show this and the man nodded.
The man took him to the back room and nodded to him to strip off his sodden clothing. He held new in his hand, dry and warm. The Castilian nodded and tried to pull at his clothing and finally the man realized how dire the stranger's predicament was. He nodded and helped disrobe the stranger who had come to his door. He helped in into the rustic clothing and hung the wet clothing to dry on the mantle of the room.
He called for water from his wife to be brought. He gently used a bucket and put the stranger's feet and hands in it. It felt like someone was trying to light his limbs on fire and the Castilian recoiled. The farmer held him still and clicked his tongue at him.
The Spaniard closed his eyes and as he felt his skin start to warm he looked up. The man added a little more warm water and again the pain was anew. The process took several hours and finally some color had returned to the Spaniard's hands.
The Basque man showed him a room and allowed him to sleep. Part of the Spaniard's mind wondered to the murder of him. Relations with these people were often tedious at the best of times. However, why would they care for him and then kill him in his sleep.
ZzZ
He woke the next morning.
Someone was holding his hand and moving his fingers. He woke with a start.
A young woman looked at him. She smiled a little and then moved his fingers more.
"I…can…feel…them." He looked up her. "What…is your…name?"
"Why…are…you…speaking…so…slowly?" She asked him in Spanish.
He blinked. "You know Spanish?"
"Of course." She said.
He blinked and looked down at his hand. He moved it and closed his eyes. His fingers ached.
"This is not just frost nip." She said. "An hour or two longer and we would have to remove these." She said.
"Thank you." He said.
She nodded and went to fetch him some soup.
ZzZ
The family was named Echeberria. The father, Ysidro, was the man whom rescued the Spaniard. His wife was named Aintzane. Their children were Fermintxo, Ihintza, and Itxaro. It was Itxaro whom was seeing to much of the Spaniard's care.
The young woman was quite remarkable and she was with him as he started to regain the feeling in his fingers and toes again. She clapped and helped him walk.
The Spaniard never forgot his goals, however, and began to speak to her about the Basque people and their power in the region of Navarre. She took him outside one day, as the sun was melting the snow and smiled at a mountain in the distance.
"She sleeps?"
"Who sleeps?"
"Anbotoko Mari."
"Who?"
"The mother goddess." She said. "She lives there. Protects us, but is also is to be feared. She can anger within a moment's notice."
He nodded.
ZzZ
September 1457
The Spaniard was sitting looking toward the mountain peak.
He was at the foot. It was quiet today. A good thing. The Basques loved and feared the goddess who was to live on the mountain. He had heard many of the mother goddesses were so beloved and feared. This had to come from man's nature love and fear of their own mothers.
He knew his mission for the artifact would take him there, but he could not go alone. He looked up as Itxaro came to him. She smiled at him and he reached up and tenderly touched her face. She was an asset to him.
He had befriended her in order help him speak to the elders, but now she was more than that to him. He had had her join him on his way to the mountain only a couple of months ago. Now she carried his child in her womb.
She knew her family would be furious, but she stayed by him. She seemed to think he would marry her if she stayed. This was not the case, but the Spaniard kept her around. Her ability to speak to everyone made his life far easier. They also took pity on the girl whose belly was growing from the child within.
ZzZ
The Spaniard managed to enter a cave. There were drawings and a carved altar. He pulled the top from the altar and the girl behind him cried out as the offerings to Mari scattered on the floor.
"What have you done?!" She cried.
He looked inside. There was velvet lining and a small circular holder, but nothing was there. "There is nothing! Nothing at all!" He rounded on her as she wept by the spilled offerings.
"What?"
He lifted her to her feet and shoved her against the wall his hands to her throat. "Where is it?"
"What?"
"The Apple?"
"What Apple?"
"The round ball object that is supposed to be here." He said looking at her. There was no love in his gaze only a wild look she had never seen before.
"The Globe of the Old Ones?"
"Yes."
"It has not been here for centuries." She said panting. He let her go and she dropped to the floor coughing.
He growled and then lifted her by the arm and walked with her outside. The clouds were building and they needed to leave. He moved quickly, as quickly as the heavily pregnant woman could go, down the mountain.
Once down at the valley he moved to the nearest town.
"What will you do now?"
"Return you to your family. You are no longer of use to me."
"But…"
He looked at her. "Did you think warming my bed, bearing me a child, and helping me with your tongue would earn you a place in my heart? I am sorry you are mistaken."
She looked horrified. "But…"
He touched her cheek. "I already have a mistress, my dear. She was with child when I left her. I will return to her. She is not as pretty as you, but her family has more potential and her husband does not seem to mind."
She screamed and hit him as he laughed and turned from her.
ZzZ
November 1457
The snows were deep and made travel hard in the mountains. Itxaro had gone into labor and she delivered a small healthy daughter. The Spaniard regarded the baby a moment. A daughter would be of use in the fact he could use her to marry off and gain influence.
Itxaro rarely spoke to him, but now she had hope again as he watched their baby sleep. She slept as the man she once loved stood watching over them. Perhaps he had had a change of heart. She had heard children could do such things.
ZzZ
March 1458
Once back to the village he stood before the mayor's home.
"Ysidro!" He called. He held the girl before him. She gasped in surprise as she held her daughter to her.
The man who had saved the Spaniard from the snow stepped from his home and regarded the man who held his daughter before him. Itxaro looked tired and worn. He swallowed and looked up at the Spaniard.
"What do you want, Rodrigo?"
"The Apple. Mari was guarding it and now it is missing."
"Men like you will never have it." Ysidro said calmly.
"Ah, so you know where it is?"
"Of course, but I will not tell you."
"Tell me or I will leave your daughter a stain on the street."
"You would threaten your own lover and mother to your child?" Ysidro's eyes narrowed. "What the hell kind of man are you?"
"Last warning."
"It is not for the likes of you. Power hungry fools will never have it."
"Papa! I love you papa!" The girl said. Her eyes told him she was ready to face her fate, and he realized, from her expression, she had accepted it some time ago.
"I love you too, Itxaro." Ysidro said looking at her softly and then looking at the man who held her with unmasked contempt.
"So be it!" The Spaniard growled and drove a dagger into her neck. He took the small bundle and looked back at Ysidro as the Basque man dropped to his knees in horror.
The mayor looked at the Spaniard with hate. "Go to hell, Rodrigo."
"I likely will. Now if you excuse me. I have other places I must be."
"My granddaughter? Surely you will not kill an innocent babe?"
"No." The Spaniard laughed. "She is still of use to me."
With that he turned on his heel and left holding the baby in his arms who had only woken a second before going back to sleep, oblivious to the chaos about her.
"Curse you, Rodrigo Borgia. May you never know happiness and never be at peace!" Ysidro's voice called after him as he continued to walk away.
Ysidro crawled to his daughter and held her gently to him as he sobbed watching the Spaniard walk away. He should have let him die in the snow, but he had a feeling the man was like a cockroach and always found ways to survive.