Assassin's Creed : Renaissance
Chapter I
1485, Florence
Palazzo Santi
A moderately warm wind caressed the faces of the Palazzo Santi guard who silently watched the desolate passage before them. The setting of the sun had long since passed and the sky was now a deathly black, blanketing the city of Firenze. It was a mindless and wearisome task but one which Gambalto Santi was insistent upon and one which he paid handsomely for. The rotation of the guard occurred every four hours to ensure they were refreshed and in perfetto ordine.
One of the capitano's amici intimi had spoken too loudly on one occasion and had suggested that Ser Santi was paranoid, fearing his imminent death and that he was becoming somewhat of a recluse. However, Argenta DeMolina, a stocky man of average height and the first of the two guards on duty, was paid enough fiorini not to think about that. In truth, he supposed he was paid not to think. If Ser Santi wanted to waste florins on such amenities then that was, of course, his choice. Argenta was born in Ravenna but when his parents passed, he took it upon himself to travel. Unfortunately, he got as far as Firenze before he was seduced by the riches of Ser Santi.
"Scusi signore, please can you spare me some fiorini" the croaky voice of a beaten man caught the attention of the burnt sienna-haired Argenta from the clearing at the north end of the passage, being the one of only two possible ways to publicly pass the Palazzo.
Argenta looked at his fellow guard, Miguel Ugo who raised an eyebrow, "Che vista penosa" he told Argenta, but then turned toward the beggar , "Be gone with you, lurido porco"
"Please" the dirt-stained beggar, who appeared to be older than Argenta first thought, stumbled toward him and grabbed hold of his arm, "I ask only a few fiorini of you"
"Figlio d'un cane! Let go of him" Miguel said, placing one hand on his sword and with the other he roughly grabbed the beggar by the scruff of his collar and pushed him to the floor. The beggar landed awkwardly on his left side, the audible crunch of one of his ribs snapping could be heard. Miguel laughed and delivered an overly harsh kick to the beggar's ribs.
Argenta dusted himself down and watched the beggar clamber to his feet, holding his chest and staggering toward the southern end of the passage. "Was that necessary?"
"He was just another miserabili pezzi di merda" Miguel spat and returned to his position to the right of the broad Palazzo doors.
"Surely it would have cost you less effort to have given him some florins?" Argenta harrumphed, a little disappointed in Miguel's attitude.
"What? And let him waste it on more grappa? Hah, don't be so naïve" Miguel laughed, absentmindedly watching the winding passage at the southern end, listening for any sign that the beggar was still hanging around. "And you think it not suspicious that such luridi branco di cani bastardi happen upon the Palazzo on the night Ser Santi actually decides to leave his abode?"
Argenta sighed, "Gambalto has since returned, Miguel. I find you to be overly distrustful"
"Bah! Nonsense!" Miguel chuckled, "If you think me paranoid, you've obviously not spent enough time with Ser Santi's finanziatore, Nero Ducale, amico mio. Nero's the reason why Gambalto tripled guard numbers in the last three months"
Argenta had only spent a handful of hours on the same rota as il Spagnolo, Miguel but found him to be somewhat obnoxious and quite frankly, a stronzo. Miguel was also a man of short stature and tanned skin. However, the shifts lasted only a handful of hours and he would be glad to return to his tesora whilst he knew Miguel would waste no time in seeking his favourite puttana. He smiled at the thought of both Miguel's and Santi's finanziatore's conspiracy theories. Gambalto Santi was but an insignificant mark on the ladder of Signoria.
Palazzo Santi Study
Sipping delicately on his wine, Nero Ducale savoured the flavour and the bitterness of the vecchio alcoholic drink. It was his fifth glass and it was safe to say he had become a ubriacone, to the displeasure of his aide, Jacopo Teodora who was sat, staring at him like he was the porco demonio. However, it only baited him in drinking more and he was sure his amico, Gambalto Santi was not concerned in the slightest. Nero had accompanied Gambalto to a avvenimento in southern Firenze for a meeting with aristocrazia from Curia. And a fine evening it had been.
"I was molto onorato by your invitation tonight, Gambalto" Nero smiled, lifting his right leg onto his left and leaning back in the chair.
"Well, tutti per uno e uno per tutti" Gambalto smiled, "I wouldn't have dreamt of not inviting you . You are one of my amici intimi, I trust you with my life"
"That is very kind of you, Gambalto. I trust you made acquaintances with Dottore Mirandola, he will be of much benefit to your hierarchy and has untold political influence through Firenze and has a foothold in the Republic of Siena. Not to mention he's handy with medicina"
"What do you take me for? A simpleton?"
Nero laughed, "Why, of course not"
"Not only did I become acquainted, I came to an agreement"
The financier was impressed and set his drink on the polished table before him, before leaning forward, "Do you have written terms?"
Gambalto nodded, "Yes I do"
"How did you manage such a feat considering the frivolities ?"
"Does a magician reveal his secrets?" the question was rhetorical.
Nero pushed the matter no further and took another sip from the wine again, "Sancta simplicities!" and thereafter finished it. "However, I must now retire for the evening as I feel Jacopo is about to kill me if I don't"
Gambalto smiled, "Well then, so be it. I bid you a buon viaggio"
"Thank you, Gambolto and please do be mindful"
Jacopo breathed what seemed to be a much needed sigh of relief and handed Nero his satchel. The finanziatore nodded his thanks, embraced his friend Gambalto and bid him farewell. He left Ser Santi finishing his grappa in the study and proceeded out into the magnificent hallway. After marvelling at its beauty and price one last time, Nero pushed through the heavy wooden doors and out into the passage. Both Jacopo and Nero nodded their thanks to the guards and the aide handed both Miguel and Argenta a couple of hundred florins.
"You're such a tartaruga whenever you drink" the beak-nosed Jacopo said matter-of-factly once they were out of earshot of the guards.
Nero laughed, straightening his evening dress, "Such royalties are to be savoured. You'll learn one day, silly boy"
The young aide stopped in the street, checking his own satchel hurriedly but seemingly not finding what it was that was missing, "Did you remember the doctrine, Ser Ducale?"
Nero shook his head disappointedly, "I think I left it at the Palazzo"
Jacopo grunted obviously, "Then I guess I shall go and fetch it"
Nero shrugged and watched the aide pompously turn and march back down the alleyway, past the bemused looking guards and into Palazzo Santi. Nero ran a hand along the back of his neck and through his long greasy black hair, scratching at a formidable itch that had presented itself. Nero Ducale was a tall man, well, tall for the Ducale family. He was also wiry thin and athletic, making sure to exercise at least once every other day. He also didn't drink often due to his persistent healthy eating regime, but on nights like this, well, he simply couldn't resist.
The financier looked back toward the entrance to the Palazzo and wondered what was keeping his young aide. The doctrine, if he recalled correctly, had been left open on Gambalto's desk. It had been approved but, as both men were merry to say the least, it had quickly been forgotten in favour of more humorous conversations. He was sure Jacopo would be quick about it and besides, it was only a short passeggiata to his casa, dolce case where upon he would slip into a very deep sleep.
"Signore Ducale! Signore Ducale!" Jacopo suddenly called out from within the Palazzo, his voice broken and terrified. Jacopo appeared on the threshold of the palace, as the guards moved inside. "It is Gambalto. Something very infame has happened - someone has killed him!"
Nero turned, adrenaline rushing through his veins, and set about making his way through the grand halls of the Palazzo and to where he had left Gambalto. He had reached the study in no time and found his close friend lying by the large bookshelf, a chair upturned. The rotund man had bled out from what appeared to be a very deep cut to his throat.
Both guards stood shocked by the corpse of their employer before them. Nero shot them a look and the one he remembered as Argenta re-acted immediately, "Assassino, assassino!" he called out and disappeared back into the main hall. The second guard, Miguel was it, mumbled something inaudible and eventually backed out of the study, his hand resting on his sword.
The finanziatore stepped over to the fallen Stanti and crouched by his side, studying the overweight man's lifeless body. It was a shock but he couldn't say that he hadn't been expecting something like this. He held Gambalto's hand and closed his eyes. "Merda!" Nero whispered.
"Requiescat in pace" the finanziatore sighed and stood, moving away from the corpse. Nero took a seat in the chair he had been sat in not too long ago. It was truly an upsetting sight but for a reason unbeknownst to him, the financier was finding it hard to take his eyes off his friend. Instead, he shut them and leaned against the back of the chair. Whoever had done this had been extremely silencio and had gone completely unnoticed.
Nero opened his eyes, rubbing them briefly and considering the room before him. The only disturbances were the upturned chair and Santi's spilled glass of grappa. There were no other signs that the assassino had been in Ser Santi's study. He had told Gambalto to be careful, cautious and utmost, smart about his decisions, not just because he managed the man's finances, but more so because a lot of the people he had done business with in the past were starting to grow weary of his constant promesso of delivery, and yet Ser Santi felt it prude to ignore them. Ultimately, the man was the cause of his own downfall.
The echoing footsteps of heavy boots caught his attention and Nero stepped out of the study, and nearly collided with one of the Capitano of Firenze's finest.
"Scusi signore, are you Ser Ducale?" the Capitano, a well built man in his late forties, sporting a large moustache, said politely.
"Si" Nero nodded simply, taking a slight step back from the Capitano.
"I am Antonio Grimaldi" he said by way of an introduction, "It has been reported to me that Signore Gambalto Santi has been murdered"
Jacopo, who had been meandering in the main hall, now appeared behind the Capitano, "I am Ser Ducale's aide, if I can be of-"
"No. I shall speak with you later" Grimaldi said without looking at the sinewy young man, "Ser Ducale, you knew the deceased?"
"Si" Nero said, his manner came across as despondent.
"Where were you at the time of the deceased's …. death?" Grimaldi said with an awkwardness that indicated he would rather have been somewhere else right now.
"In the passage" the finanziatore said quietly, nodding to the large wooden doors, "Jacopo and myself were leaving for the evening"
"And had you been here the entire time?"
"No, Ser Santi and I had attended an event earlier. You can verify both our attendances via members of the Curia who are in town"
"He had bistecca to eat" Jacopo added.
Grimaldi ignored him once again, "Ser Ducale, did you witness anything out of the ordinary once you had left the Palazzo?"
"Nothing" Nero shook his head, "… but, Ser Santi, he wasn't without enemies"
"Aren't we all" Grimaldi sighed, and side stepped the finanziatore and moved into the study. "Ser Ducale, where may I find you should I need you?" the Capitano said from within the study.
"Jacopo, see that Signore Grimaldi is given the location of mi casa" he said but stepped away before the aide could retort in any fashion. Voices from outside of the Palazzo distracted him and he headed toward the heavy wooden doors and gently pushed them open.
"Argenta, Miguel" Nero spoke, keeping his voice low and approached the two guards, "I take it you found no trace of the assassino?"
"Nothing, Signore" Argenta responded coolly.
"Gambalto had plenty foes - I feel this was inevitable" Nero ran both hands through his hair, pushing it behind his ears. "Did either of you see or hear anything? I refuse to accept that the assassino simply vanished"
"Well vanished he has" Miguel frowned, "We searched all over this block and found nothing"
"There was…" Argenta started but trailed off.
"There was what, Argenta?" Nero turned, his eyes a cold hard stare.
"It was…" the guard let out a breath, "It was probably nothing, but there was a beggar"
"Who?" Nero asked.
"There was a beggar, showed up not long before you left" Miguel explained, withdrawing a small dagger and using it to absentmindedly pick at the dirt under his finger nails, "He had the coglioni to ask for fiorini"
"He is a regular in this area? Do you know his name?" Nero pressed.
Argenta shook his head, "Ah, we know not of his name but I think I know how you could track him" the finanziatore remained silent and allowed the guard to continue, "The beggar grabbed me and Miguel saw it fit to through the poor bastardo to the ground and I'm sure he cracked his ribs"
"If he didn't, he would have when I kicked him" Miguel laughed.
"That is just infame!" Jacopo said, appearing next to Nero but soon withdrawing back into the Palazzo when Miguel looked at him gravely.
"Ser Ducale, I dare say that the birbante would have sought medical attention before leaving the district"
Nero nodded thoughtfully, thanked the guards and called for Jacopo. The pair soon found themselves walking back toward Ducale's house which was a short trip from Palazzo Santi, but it was a quiet one nonetheless. The finanziatore was deep in thought about what Argenta had said about the beggar who had conveniently showed up sheer moments before Gambalto's death. If the bastardo had indeed sought medical attention, Nero was aware of one such dottore nearby who could possibly have tended to him. He had decided that he would go and pay the good doctor a visit in the morning.
The journey back to the finanziatore's casa was an uneventful trip and saw Jacopo bidding Nero a good night. Nero silently made his way to the bedroom to find his principessa, Gianetta Visconti, sleeping soundly. Disrobing, he softly made his way under the silk laden covers and pressed his body against Gianetti's, before draping his arm over her soft olive-tanned skin. It wasn't until much later he fell asleep.
Nero Ducale had encountered somewhat of a restless night and, after only successfully sleeping for three hours, found himself up and pacing the room. The issue of Gambalto's death had understandably upset him but that was not the reason he had a mild case of insomnia . It was the matter of the assassino and their reason for slitting Gambalto's throat.
"Nero" Gianetti said sleepily, rolling over, squinting when the morning sun caught her eye, "Why on earth are you awake?"
"No preoccuparvi, caro. I just have some business that needs tending to" Nero said, slipping last night's clothes back on.
"Oh" his tesora mumbled, "ciao" she said before turning away from the sun and closing her eyes again. Nero smiled and took this opportunity to leave.
The dottore he was thinking of had been one who frequented the open courtyard which was only a couple of streets away from Palazzo Santi. Nero found the man of medicine in conversation with a customer who appeared to have recently been in some form of battle. The finanziatore waited patiently against a nearby stonewall which had seen better days. However, his wait was only short and soon the customer had seemed satisfied with his purchase and thereafter made his exit.
"Scusi" Nero said, clearing his throat to alert the dottore; a man wearing an all black cloak together with a pointed white mask to hide his identity, "I need some information"
The doctor laughed, "Not medicine?"
"Non, I seek out a man" Nero said quietly.
"So you require poison?"
"You mistake me for a man of crime. I seek out a beggar, and one which you may have come across"
"And what makes you think he didn't attend one of the many other doctors in Firenze?" the dottore shrugged and busied himself briefly with pocketing the fiorini the previous customer had supplied him.
"You were the first closest to the district he was meandering through last night"
"And you think he spoke to me?"
"Spero di si. He apparently had a cracked rib, maybe more"
"Ma certo, I recall him. He was an aged fellow, looked like he had been given a rough time"
"That would be him" Nero stepped closer to the taller man, "Now, where may I find him?"
"You presume I know where he is now?"
"Any information would be beneficial"
"And why is it you seek him out?"
"He may or may not have something to tell me"
"I know where he is. I take it you know where the church of San Jacopo Soprano is?"
"Intensi" Nero turned away but paused, looking down, considering the information the dottore just provided to him, he felt he should repay him. He subsequently turned and stepped back over to the man, reaching into his purse whilst he did so, "Here, for your troubles" he said and handed over 200 florins.
"In bocca al lupo" the cloaked man laughed, as Nero left, exchanging the dry, sandy courtyard for the relative shade of the nearby darkened passage.
Nero made his way across the Ponte Vecchio and westward along the south banks of the Arno to the church of San Jacopo Soprano. There were some secluded gardens nearby and that was the first place he checked. Sure enough, he caught sight of an aged, scared man wearing dirty stained clothes lying on a makeshift mattress. The finanziatore stepped cautiously over to the beggar and crouched by his side. He appeared to be lightly sleeping. Nero put his hand on the beggar's shoulder and coughed once.
"Wha- hey, get off me" the beggar grunted and sat up, shuffling off the mattress and put his arms across his chest in a defensive manner. Nero noticed the beggar winced as he did so.
"I didn't mean to startle you" Nero said softly.
"You dress well for a thief" the beggar scoffed.
"That's because I am not" the finanziatore said calmly, "Were you at Palazzo Santi last night?"
"Merda!" The beggar cursed, suddenly looking nervous and thereafter attempting to step around Nero, but he blocked his path and held his arms out.
"Calma signore. I only came to ask questions of you"
The beggar, still looking nervous, gave up on trying to flee and instead resorted to pacing the small gardened area. "Then what do you want?"
"Why were you at the Palazzo last night?" Nero asked.
"Why do you think? Do you think I was there to attend Ser Santi's after party" the beggar frowned, his voice broken and disturbed, he was clearly hiding something.
"Ser Santi was killed last night"
This comment caused the beggar to stop pacing and he looked at Nero, "What? By whom?"
"That I am trying to find out, however, the assassino was clever, left no trace"
"I … well I was hoping to get some fiorini from the guards"
"And you went all the way over there to pester some men armed with swords, who were more than likely to beat you" Nero took out his purse and held it obviously, "I'm willing to pay. Generously!"
The beggar looked at the finanziatore and then down at the purse in his hands, "Who are you?"
"My name is Nero Ducale. I handled Ser Santi's finances. He was a very wealthy man but not a penny was taken. His death was because of-" Nero paused, thinking momentarily. Whilst Gambalto had many enemies, he was struggling to think what may have pushed them over the edge, "-something else"
The beggar nodded, feeling the air of anxiety emanating from the finanziatore, "I was approached by a hooded gentleman. He paid for me to bother the guards"
Nero stepped over to the beggar, feeling somewhat more enthusiastic now, energised maybe, "Did you see his face? Did you know him? Where did he go?"
"No, no, no … I didn't see him, I don't know him. I didn't want to follow him"
"Why?"
"He had a blade" the beggar said, "It was strapped to his wrist"
"A blade?"
"A piccina and you think he was an assassino?"
"I do. Do you have any idea where I can find him?"
The beggar shrugged and ambled back over to his mattress, sitting heavily on it. Nero followed him, already taking out florins and throwing them to the ground, "There, take it"
The beggar smiled, "I don't know where you can find him. However, if he is an assassin, he may just have a reputation amongst the thieves"
"Thieves? Really?" Nero sighed. There were quite a number of thieves in Firenze, "Va bene, Grazie"
"You're a uomo coraggioso" the beggar said, as he picked up the coins from the soil in front of him.
Nero stepped out of the cool confines of the gardens, and found a nearby bench to temporarily rest and collect his thoughts. So, it would appear he would have to wade through more undesirables but at least he was getting somewhere, which was better than nothing right now. Apparently, he would have to seek out the thieves, but now was not the time, he couldn't afford to be traipsing around Florence when there was work to attend to.