His blood ran like scalding rivulets down his trembling back. Biting down on his lower lip he tasted more coppery blood, as his teeth cut through the tender flesh. No he would not cry, he would not scream and whimper when the heavy cell door opened again.
Shifting he pressed his fever hot cheek against the slick stone, trying to pull his body into a tolerable position, but between the rusty rings that held his knees secured to the floor and spread wide and the chain holding his wrists out in front of him. There were only two choices, on his knees, exposed and open or on his side where his hip would cramp and burn from the impossible angle.
Closing his eyes, he shuttered as the cold filled him, he felt like a cup where his sanity clung to the rim, just waiting for that last drop of pain that would flood him, spilling everything on the foul stone-floor. Sleep, he needs to sleep, if only for a moment, he had not slept in so much time that he could no longer recall when he had slept last.
Keys jangled outside the heavy door, burying his face in his elbow he bid down on the already broken skin, drawing yet more blood, as he stifled his screams of terror.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to curl up, or at least close his leg, and hide the fact that he was naked, but the chains were too tight, too tight to allow him to hide anything.
- No... no...no...no
His head shook from side to side as he shivered, and pleaded
- No...No...not again...no...no more.
The sound of gauntlets being removed all but sent him into total panic, it was starting all over, rough hands would touch and grope, and violate and...
His pleas became a sobbing animal howl, of true pure fear, he could not go through this again...
The rough hands, cupped his chin in a firm grip, trapping him forcing him to lift his head.
Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he had no choice but to obey.
Nein, ich kann das nicht tun ... süße Mutter Maria, es ist mir egal, was du getan hast, oder was du bist ... das ist nicht richtig, das ist nicht Gottes Wille ... Es gibt keine Ehre in diesem ...
The voice of the Templar was soft, and deep, as if he was talking to himself, and not the trembling naked mess before him. Taking the keys the old Templar looks at them and sighs. This is an assassin, an enemy of god and the pope he has sworn to protect and serve, but this ... This was no right.
Enemy the assassin might be, but this was evil.
Keeping one hand on the young man's shivering chin, the old man reached down, and pulling the locking pin from the rod that held the rings securing the assassins knees to the floor, he pushed it through the eyeholes releasing the young man's legs.
no sooner had the rings opened before the assassin curled into a moaning ball, desperately trying to hide his naked shame.
An enemy deserved the respect off a swift death, not this... not this vile evil.
Gentle brushing the long filthy locks of ebony hair from the bruised face, the Templar hissed at the sight.
Huge golden eyes starred up at him with such fear, such utter hopeless, mind numbing terror, that it almost broke the old warrior's heart. He had come here resolved to kill the assassin, but the look in those amber eyes stayed his hand.
The pride was gone, the fire that had smouldered there like molten gold, that inner strength that had marked this assassin as a force to reckon with. All had vanished.
These eyes were now filled with a such hopelessness and mindless fear.. they were the eyes of a broken man.
Slipping the key into the padlock keeping the shackles in place, the old man quickly opened the well-oiled lock, releasing bloodied and raw wrists from the shackles jaws.
- Ssh do not fear, i will not hurt you, ssssch easy.
Speaking in a soft voice as if talking to a frightened child, the old Templar gentle wrapped his cloak around the shivering man, before sitting back on his haunches to consider his options.
Time was off the essence it was already midnight, leaving him with little time if he was to Wisk the assassin away.
- So assassino can you walk?
The haunted terrified eyes never left the Templars face as the assassin slowly pulled himself up off the floor, and into a somewhat sitting position, and for a few moments the old Templar feared that there was nothing human left inside the broken husk.
Then as he was about to repeat the question, the young man nodded: yes...
- Gott sei dank, then follow me, I'll lead you as far as i can, but you will have to find your own way home.
- Why... help?
- This, what the pope has ordered us to do.. it is not right, and i cannot believe that this: gesturing to encompass all the assassins wounds the Templar continued: can be gods will. Even an enemy deserves to mercy off a clean death.
Nodding the assassin seemed to accept the Templers words.
Was this really happening? Could there really exist a merciful soul inside their walls? Or was this just a new elaborate way of torture, would more Templars burst in and start everything all over again if he allowed himself to believe?
The Templar looked so sincere, and. ... the assassins mind struggled to remember, wasn't this the old Templar, whose eyes would fill with tears as he stood guard inside the torture chamber. The one who had suggested, that they showed mercy and just killed him.
- You...are... the one who... cry...for me...
- JA, and now i am the one who will give you a chance to escape. Once you have dressed i will lead you to a little known passage, which leads to a cave just outside of Roma...
Rising the old Templar moved to a chest in the far corner off the cell, and giving it a solid kick with his nail studded boot, he shattered the lid.
The assassin's eyes widened, as the Templar retrieved his white robes, armour and. ... mio dio, his weapons.
It was all there even his hidden blade and the throwing knives.
Placing the pile down in front of the assassin, the Templar stepped back and turned his broad back to the man, giving him as much privacy as possible without leaving the cell.
Starring at the mass off clothing laying before him, the assassin licked his cold lips, as he pulled his right hand out off the Templars cloak. The broken fingers had curled into a crippled claw, rendering them useless.
- Can you dress yourself?
The question was spoken in the same deep soft voice, yet it drew a pitiful whimper from the assassin's lips.
- No... my hands... i can't... tie the straps please... will you help?
Nodding the Templar turned, and kneeled in front of the broken man, and pulling the inner tunic from the pile off cloth and metal, he gentle slipped it over the assassins head...
Leaning against the wall off the narrow tunnel, the assassin groaned softly, pain filled every movement with fire, but there was no choice but to push on. The Templar would guide him to a tunnel, but from there he would be on his own. Pushing down the sudden stab off fear the assassin pushed out from the wall and limped after the Templar.
He was alone, wounded and weak in the city off his mortal enemies, indeed at the mercy of an enemy, and he had to find his way home, only he had no home...
- Here, through this crack... i realise that it will be painful for you to squeeze through, but... it's the best i can do. In any case, it is only a short part off the way. This crack opens out into an ancient tunnel which will take you out of the city. Ahh here it is.
Stopping in front of a stack off crates the old Templar put his shoulder against them, pushing them out from the roughhewn stone wall and revealing a narrow fissure just wide enough to let the slender assassin squeeze through, in the stone.
Standing back up the old Templar found himself meeting the young assassins eyes once more.
The light has returned a little, but it stills seemed a miracle that he is even able to walk.
Stepping back he watches the assassin approach the crevice, examinating it in the flickering light of their only torch.
Pulling up the beaked hood, the assassin turns to face him once more.
- Grazie... i don't know what else to... say, but Grazie... will you be safe?
Nodding at the concern in the broken whisper the old man smiled warmly.
- Prego, young killer yes i will be safe. After all you had already thrown you bonds when i arrived to carry out the orders of IL Pape. I never even saw the hand that slammed me into the wall knocking me out... for all i know you could have had help...
A soft sigh and the ghost off a smile were the only reply, as the young man leaned heavily against the wall.
Shaking his head the Templar cursed, the young assassin looked ready to drop, and it was still winter outside. Yet his hands were tied, both his sons were Templars and to betray his wove's for an assassin was just unthinkable, all he could do was give the broken man as much off a chance as possible.
Pulling his cloak off, he draped it over the assassins shivering shoulders once more, before dropping his florin filled pouch into a pocket off the assassins robe.
- Here it's not much, but it will buy you shelter to heal for a few weeks... find a safe place to heal, and the Go home, marry and raise a brood off children, do you hear me, leave this life behind. Or we will kill you... now go dawn draws near.
Giving the young man's shoulder a light push, the Templar watched him simple nod and turn to the crevice sliding halfway into the crack he suddenly stopped and turned to meet the Templars eyes one last time.
- If ever you decide to leave the Borgia clutches or... Need help. Then seek me out, i am... Ezio Auditore and i will repay you kindness...
translations
Nein, ich kann das nicht tun ... süße Mutter Maria, es ist mir egal, was du getan hast, oder was du bist ... das ist nicht richtig, das ist nicht Gottes Wille ... Es gibt keine Ehre in diesem ...
no i can't do this... sweet mother Mary, i don't care what you have done, or what you are...this is not right this is not god's will... there is no honor in this...