"No, I'm leaving immediately for Roma."
Ezio found himself thinking those last words he had heard from Machiavelli, as the last time he had seen him, the philosopher was angered by him, and left. Though what annoyed him more was that he was right, he had seen his home distoried, and now he had sent his mother and sister to Fienze while he would ride to Roma, with the hopes that he'd find him.
As night felt, Ezio stared down at the reins in his hands, his eyes half open and vision crossing as darkness edged into his sight. Though he'd jerked himself up, feeling the need to stay awake, the haze that was clouding his mind made in impossible to keep his thoughts straight.
I have to find Machiavelli. He thought. I have to find him... I've... got to find... Machiavelli... Until he simply fell victim to the all too welcoming void that was unconscieceness.
Machiavelli rode through the night, or at least, until something had caught his eye. A riderless horse trotted not far behind him, making him slightly curious. Normally a person wouldn't leave their horse, especially with all that has currently happened. And he was certain it was a domestic one as well, as the sadle was present.
He dismounted his own before approaching the calm unknown horse. "Someone must be missing you." He murmered as he took hold of the reins before reaching back to a pouch in the sadle, with hopes that something might be able to identify its rider.
Though exasperated by the lack of clues as to who was missing the horse, Machiavelli looped th ereins onto the sadle of his own horse before turning back down the road. But he hadn't expected what he had found.
There in the middle of the road laid Ezio, pourly dressed and passed out. Machiavelli got off his horse to kneel down beside him, "Ezio?" He then saw the two large bullet wounds in his shoulder and side. "Amico mio, what have you gotten yourself into?"
With slight effort, as the older man was also heavier, he managed to pulled him onto the found horse. Then he hopped back onto his own, once again headed for Roma. He looked to the limp assassin as he asked him again, "What have you gotten yourself into?"
Ezio's only signs of a responce was his hand curling into a fist before murmuring something that could have been "Mario", though he wasn't entirely sure because of the quiet and mumbled voice. Machiavelli could only sigh and shake his head. He'd have to figure out after the trip.
It was very early morning as he hitched his horse as well as Ezio's before pulling the man off. Maybe he could ask someone here to take care of his friend. He looped an arm over hsi shoulder he he half dragged Ezio up the stairs and to a wooden door before knocking on it.
The door was answered, reveiling the owner to be a young dark haired woman, who stared at him with questioning dark eyes. "Hello?"
Machiavelli nodded, "Salve, I found this man on the road, do you think you could take care of him prehaps?"
The woman raised an eyebrow before looking down to Ezio, "What happened to him?"
"I'm not sure." Machiavelli answered. "But could you please? He needs help."
The woman nodded, "Alright, I will. Bring him inside, I'll be able to see to those wounds."
With a smile of appretchiation, Machiavelli brought Ezio inside and seat him on a chair. The woman returned very soon with a bowl of water and some bandages. The philosopher watched as she delicately removed the ruined shirt and looked to the wounds in a mix of amazement and worry.
"Please, go. I'll work on these, please come back later, I have some questions to ask about this." The woman told him as she dabbed a wet cloth to the wound on his side.
"I shall." He told her as he walked to the door. If Ezio left had left in such a hurry, then it'd be clear that he had left his armor and robes behind. Which must have been some sort of urgent situation. He decided on getting him a new set of robes, just so he wouldn't have to run around shirtless, needless to say that it wouldn't surprise him if such did happen.
He returned with the set of robes, finding to woman laying Ezio down on a bed. In his trip to the tailor, he had heard some rumors of what had happened, that Monterriggioni was attacked and that there was one assured death, that being Mario Auditore. He heard nothing else of importance.
"How bad is it?" Machiavelli asked.
The woman looked up, "It's more than I know how to heal, but I think he'll be alright." Then she stood and faced him. "So please, tell me who you are, I'd like to know who I just excepted a stranger into my home from."
Machiavelli shook his head, "My name is of no importance, Signora. All that he needs to know is that he is to meet a Messer Machiavelli in front of the Mausoleo di Augusto." Then turned for the door, "Addio, Signora."