Spain, 1509
The torches that lit the archways of Spain's alleyways cast a dim glow as Ricardio Novaldio navigated his way from a place he should not have been. He was a diplomat from Italy here to deliver a message to the king of Spain, Philip of Castile, about urgent news from Italy, but had made a side-stop to share his confidential information with some trusted colleagues, colleagues whose association with could get him killed.
Realizing the lateness of the hour, Ricardio sped up over the cobblestone streets, only have the sound of his feet hitting the stones coming back at him. The information he had just shared was delivered to people who held positions of power one way or another, enough power in fact that they could have him hunted down and killed if he stepped out of line and betrayed them. These people belonged to an organization as old as conspiracies themselves and had survived many wars throughout history. It was somewhat an honor to be courier for them, but it also held a heavy target on his back for the organization's enemies, enemies that didn't care how devout you were to their enemy's cause.
Breathing deeply now, Ricardio could see the entrance to the plaza ahead of him, but no the figure that landed right behind him.
"Ricardio Novaldio?" Ricardio turned to see hooded figure cloaked in a white robe and a red cape slung over his left shoulder. Ricardio immediately recognized the emblem etched into his cloak…it belonged to those who were against his organization.
Ricardio slowly started to walk backwards, "I'm sorry…I don't have any money on me…Please, if you'd just let me go…" He turned and made a break for the plaza as fast as he could, knowing that his pursuer would not try to attack him in public. Ricardio didn't make it.
The hooded man swiftly pulled out a compact crossbow and fired a bolt effortlessly. That bolt quickly found a new home, lodged in Ricardio's right upper thigh, sending him crashing to the ground. Tensing in pain, Ricardio managed to roll upright just as the hooded man strode up to him. Ricardio was surprised at how cool and collected he seemed to be. While Ricardio's mental training had prepared him for attacks such as these, he was not ready for how calm his attackers would be.
"Ricarario…I believe that you hold some information that my people would like very badly." The hooded man's voice was heavy with Spanish and carried the tone of a predator of the night. If the rumors that Ricardio had heard from the other members of his organization were true, this could only be one man. "Ricardio…I'm not asking you to tell me, I'm demanding that you do so." Ricardio knew that one way or another, he was going to he was going to die, and chose the route of a loyal man and stayed quiet, being righteous to his cause.
"This is your last chance…otherwise…" The hooded man flicked his wrist, sending a sharp blade jutting out of his wrist as he stared at his reflection in the shining blade for a moment before stabbing the blade into Ricardio's left thigh, disabling his ability to walk. The hooded man twisted the blade in his thigh, shooting piercing pain racing throughout his lower body. Ricardio could take no more; he had to give in no matter the price.
After telling the hooded man all that he had told his associates before and then some, the hooded man withdrew his blade. While he knew that his life was possibly spared, Ricardio felt the poison of grief flow through him. There was no taking it back now, no way to turn back. He would now be marked as a traitor to his organization.
Suddenly, Ricardio began choking on blood. It was then that he realized that it wasn't the poison of grief, but actual poison running through his veins!
Standing up, the hooded man smiled, "Thank you Ricardio Novaldio, you've been a big help. And, if you somehow do survive, tell your friends that you had a little talk with 'El Búho'." Then, lifting his hood ever so slightly, Ricardio caught a glimpse of his eyes.
"The rumors are true…they are as gold as the sun…" Ricardio gasped as the hooded man plunged his wrist blade into his stomach.
Rainerio wiped the blood and bile off his hidden blades as he dropped through the rooftop entrance of the Spanish Assassin's Guild. Falling into a small sitting room, cluttered with tables and chairs, Rainerio brushed the dust off his cape. It had been a successful mission and Rainerio was looking forwards towards a well-deserved night's sleep in a real bed.
Hearing a door open behind him, Rainerio spun with hidden blades at the ready, only to come face-to-face with an old ally entering the sitting room. Juan Kelada was the owner and bartender of La Corana Borracha, a small hole-in-the-wall tavern that acted as the cover for the Spanish Brotherhood of Assassins' headquarters. Juan was a generous supporter of the Assassins' Brotherhood and in return for his funding and use of his tavern, the Assassins kept his family and establishment safe from the cruelty of the Templars.
Retracting his hidden blades, Rainerio gave him a once-over and noted that his salt-and-pepper beard had grown as few inches since their last meeting, as had his waistline.
Wiping a glass clean as he shut the door to the bar close behind him, Juan chuckled, "Rainerio de Buho...what has it been since we last saw each? Two, three months? How about I get you your usual drink, or should I mix you up something new?"
Rainerio glared at his funder, "If enjoy my company so much, maybe you shouldn't have been sending me so many assassination contracts. Thanks to you, I've been over half of Spain." Rainerio flipped his hood down as he brushed past Juan to the water basin in the corner.
"Speaking of such," Juan asked joyously, "how did the last one go, that courier from Italy?" Juan was never one to take the Assassin's business seriously for what it really was, a secretive, messy game of cat and mouse, but Juan still supported their cause in both spirit and money.
"Went down easily like they all do in the end."Rainerio said as he splashed water onto face, "The poor fool thought that he could get away just by simply outrunning me. Pity he failed to outrun my crossbow." Juan chuckled at this as he sank down into one of the plush chairs, bur Rainerio kept standing, looking into the water basin. Looking back at him was his well-tanned skin with sharp, slender features as well has his furrowed brow and dark brown pencil mustache and slender goatee. But the most prominent feature was his deep, sharp golden eyes, giving him the piercing glare of his family's namesake, el buho, the owl. Yes, his appearance alone earned him his family's legacy...as well as its assassin heritage.
Juan sat up,"Oh, before I forget Rain-" Rainerio unsheathed his espada ropera and lunged at Juan, sending him reeling back into his chair, the blade reflecting his neck's every movement.
"Juan," Rainerio breathed deeply, "For the last two months, I've executing every contact that you have given me. I've risked life and limb numerous times over and moved history on. The least I expect is a peaceful night's rest and a good meal." Rainerio sheathed his sword and turned away.
Juan quickly sobered up, "It's not another contract. there's just someone here to see you."
Rainerio Pulled his hood back up and headed towards the stairs leading to his personal loft, "And makes him any more different than the others who come in here looking for an assassin-for-hire?"
Juan followed him closely, "For starters, he paid handsomely just to see you." Rainerio paused at the first step. This was rather odd, most people sent in a contract and payment via the Assassin Contracts, but rarely came face-to-face.
Rainerio turned, "How much are we talking about Juan?"
"Enough for me to quit working for a few months, hire some new workers, fix this place up with it..." Juan rambled on about what he could do with the money, but Rainerio cut him off.
"Juan, if you did any of that without paying your dues to the Brotherhood, I'd personally have to hunt you down and kill myself." Rainerio locked eyes with Juan, but Juan just smiled.
"And that's why I'm telling you about them money Rainerio. You of all people know that I'd never go behind the Brotherhood's back. Who'd run the bar and keep a clean cover for you?"
Rainerio rolled his eyes at Juan mocking, "What else made this man so 'different'?"
Juan straightened up, "He was also very specific to demand you. I believe his exact words were 'The one with rumors of golden eyes.'"
Rainerio was now thrown off now, assassins were just given their targets and sent off, on occasion being chosen for certain missions for their extreme skills, or if their employer was very rich, but never had an assassin been demanded for by his attributes.
Brushing bask past Juan, he spouted, "This man is either extremely rich or an extremely pretentious ass. My bets are on the latter."
Rainerio rolled his shoulders as he looked back at Juan, "The Briefing Room, I assume?" Juan nodded as Rainerio walked to a wall covered by a large tapestry. Pulling it aside, he revealed a rather worn-out Assassin emblem. Activating his hidden blade, he slide them into a minute crevice between two bricks. Using his free hand, he pushed a section of the wall in, and withdrew his blade. now pushing the inlayed section to the side, he revealed the long staircase going down into what seemed to be an abandoned basement, which was really the Assassin's Briefing room where the missions were handed out.
Taking a step down, Rainerio looked back at Juan, "As for that drink offer earlier, mix me up something new, I feel like venturing into new territory."
Rainerio walked down the steps to the basement room of the tavern. The familiar aura of the dimly lit room and smell of wines and meads that were fermenting in the room welcomed the assassin back home, as well as give him the feeling of impending duty.
Nearing the small table that rested in the middle of the room, Rainerio was caught slightly off-guard to find that this contact was no more than just a young man, not even 18. Usually the people who could afford an assassin were those in positions of seniority and vast wealth, usually the older portion of the populous of Spain.
'This man must be am heir from one of the richer families; otherwise he'd have no access to the kind of money that Juan described' Rainerio approached the table and took a seat across from the man. Truthfully, he still couldn't get over the fact that a man of his age could hold enough power to have a job enough to hire him.
"So I see that you finally decided to get around to finally heeding my request…" The man's attitude was not what Rainerio would have expected from a man of his age and wealth, curt and rather self-centered.
'So I was right…' Rainerio huffed to himself, 'He is a pretentious ass…' He straightened himself up and then leaned deep forward, "Let me tell you right now, as much as you would like to believe it, The Brotherhood of Assassins does not drop everything just for one over-confident smart-aleck."
Cortez seemed to brush off the sublime threat as he leaned back in his hair, brushing his straight black hair out of his face, "I refuse to continue our business until I have proof that I am talking to Spain's finest assassin."
Rainerio's nerves were slowly being fried by the insolence of this youth, but in hopes of finishing this meeting, he leaned in close again, but lifted his hood up slightly to reveal not only his golden eyes but his youthful age as well. Rainerio took the pain of revealing his true age with a deep breath. At the age of 19, he had exceeded the Brotherhood's expectations and was well on the way of becoming the next Master Assassin, but had to keep his age a secret to prevent their enemies from using this information against them. This was a huge risk to take in revealing his real nature to him.
Cortez gave off a slight chuckle as he kicked back in his chair, "I see that the young people these days have dream higher than our past generations would like to see us go."
This phrase sent a golden dagger of a glare from Rainerio to Cortez, "What right do you have to say that? What plans to you, a prissy self-centered rich child have other than to obtain your family fortune?"
Cortez shrugged as he gave a small smirk, "Have you heard of a man named Columbus, Christopher Columbus?" Rainerio gave a minor nod, this was the man who had discovered a new land on the other side of the earth they knew, calling it 'The New World'. As they spoke, plans to carry out new missions to the New World were in order, but the one thing that people were still talking about were the rumors of gold as far as the eyes could see.
Rainerio backed down, "So…you're going for the vast riches of the New World…" He scratched his chin as he took a seat opposite of Cortez, "If that is so, why do you need me?"
Cortez sighed, "The plan I have will take a few years, and I don't want any… interference, shall I say…and there are rumors of barbaric tribes, who don't take visitors like us very lightly."
Rainerio coked his head to the side, "Interferences….I supposed these would include people who would prefer you not as lively?" Cortez's face finally lost his charming smirk, "So you have enemies at home and abroad…this won't be an easy task. How do you intend to pay?"
Cortez's smiled somewhat resurfaced as it was Cortez's turn to lean forward, "Two words: pure gold. I can pay now for your travel and part of your time in Cuba, but once we find the gold in the New World, I can pay you as much as you see fit for your work…that is if those tribes don't get to you first." Cortez laughed softly to himself, but received a berating stare from Rainerio.
"Is that supposed to insist that you do not believe that Spain's best Assassin cannot handle the job?" Rainerio leaned in as well, almost nose-to-nose with Cortez. Cortez smiled cockily and then pulled back laughing again. This was a trait that was already getting on Rainerio's nerves.
"Nonsense Assassin, I just was referring to the fact that you have no idea of how these tribes fight. Rumors tell of them being able to kill a horse with a stone, piercing steel armor…even Spain's best assassin may have some difficulties past them."
It was the Assassin's turn to smirk, "That is if they can hit me." Feeling that this order of business had come and gone, Rainerio moved on, "And what will I be doing in Cuba? I will need something to keep me preoccupied."
Cortez paused for a second and thought. Apparently he hadn't thought that, and Rainerio was not surprised for all. After a few moments, Cortez finally found an answer, "Well…I always do need a personal servant."
Rainerio held back another glare, but managed to get out between clenched jaws, "Fine…It'll keep me pre-occupied since the Brotherhood will most likely keep me busy with some jobs while there."
Cortez smiled and stood up as Juan came down with drinks for the two men. Cortez gladly took his drink while Rainerio took a bit longer to get his. As soon as Rainerio had his in hand, Cortez offered a toast, "To the New World!" Rainerio reluctantly clinked his glass and murmured under his breath.
"And to the future for the both of us."
Well...that wasn't to hard, now was it? I'll gladly take reviews and suggestions on this piece, but please try to keep them positive. I don't quite remember where the idea of doing an assassin alongside Cortez came from, but I do remember that Rainerio was tricked by Cortez who would later turn out to be a Templar, forcing Rainerio to turn to his former enemies, the Aztecs, as new allies.
No, I will not be continuing Rainerio's story, but rather my next Assassin's Creed story will be based on a half-white/half-black Assassin during the Civil War.