Assassin's Creed:

Bladesong

Prologue

1509

I guess I was kinda selfish, leaving Ezio to clean up after the Borgia. But, then again, I had stuff to deal with. Once again, I examined the letter that'd been sent to me by the leader of the Assassin's Guild in Constantinople, Yusuf Tazim. It told me that Masyaf had been overrun by Templars during the time that I'd gone.

I groaned and then shifted the weight of the little bag that was slung over my shoulder—the one with my belongings. I had all my weapons with me. Equipped, of course. My silver longsword, my silver shortblade, my double hidden blades, throwing knives and hidden gun. Not to mention a few extras that I'd gotten on my journey.

I was wearing what I always wore: white Assassin robes with a red streak here and there, only, for the first time in a while, my hood was lowered. I allowed my short brown hair to actually breathe for a bit, while my golden eyes scanned the docks of Roma. I needed a charter, and I needed it immediately.

With no luck for a few hours, I was grumpy. The only thing that'd really help in that kinda of a situation would be a good brawl.

And I knew exactly where to go.

Within about an hour of navigation through the tunnels of Roma, I came upon the Mercenary barracks, where there was sure to be a fight going on. I entered the barracks quietly and placed my bag on the table before I went downstairs. The putrid smell of blood and ale swam through the air, where many Mercenaries were circled around an arena, cheering on their favourite man. I sighed in relief, feeling more at home than I had in a while.

"Can I help you?"

I looked behind me to see Bartolomeo d'Alviano, the man who I'd saved the day of Ezio's birth, and whose last name I'd "borrowed".

"Si," I said. "I'd like to fight."

Bartolomeo grinned. "Well, I would not want you to get your pretty face beaten to a pulp, perdere, but it is your decision."

"I'd like to fight," I repeated sternly.

Bartolomeo nodded and shouted loudly to one of his Mercenaries. The man laughed but welcomed me into the ring.

"You have to remove your weapons and armour," Bartolomeo told me. "The rules apply to everyone, scusa."

I ignored the perverted looks I got from the Mercenaries and handed over my weapons and robes. I only had my leggings on, but luckily I had an undershirt on that Bartolomeo said I could keep on, much to the disappointment of the Mercenaries.

"Who is man enough to fight this young lady?" Bartolomeo cried dramatically. I sent a silent thanks to whoever decided that the theatre was not for him.

Four men came forward, each trying not to stare at my chest. I was close to hitting them already.

"Ah! Si, si! Gentlemen, place your bets!" Bartolomeo went to tally, and when he was finished, it looked like the Mercenaries favoured their men better than they did me. They'd learn soon enough.

"And now…" Bartolomeo grabbed the bell and rang it. "Fight!"

The four men ran at me. One leapt at me to tackle me to the ground, but I lazily brought up my foot and kicked him hard in the face. He landed in a heap before me. A second Mercenary jabbed at my gut, while a third tried to take out my legs. I deflected the second man with my elbow and then jumped, dodging the third man and kicking the second's face in the process. I landed on top of the fourth man's head and smashed him into the ground, then backflipped and caught the third man's fist before it hit my back. As the first man started to rise, I backed-up until I was in front of him and let the third Mercenary attack me. I ducked, and the third hit the first in the face, knocking him out. I swept my legs under the third Mercenary and tripped him, then stood up and slammed my foot onto his chest. He was definitely winded, and none of them were getting up.

The room was quiet for a second before cheers and moans of loss erupted through the small room. Bartolomeo gave me my share of the winnings and smiled proudly.

"Ben fatto, amico mio!" Bartolomeo exclaimed. "Tell me, what is the name of the young lady who defeated four of my best men in under ten seconds?"

"It was that long?" I frowned. "Maledizione. I'm getting rusty." Nonetheless, I smiled and shook Bartolomeo's hand firmly. "My name is Sofia. I work closely with Ezio Auditore." Besttoleavemylastnameoutforabit… I thought.

"I thought I recognized those robes," the older man said with a smug look on his face. "How is Ezio?"

"Fine. Just taking care of the last bit of Borgia influence," I told him. "Best not to tell him I've been here, okay?"

Bartolomeo shook his head. "I cannot do that. If he comes looking for you, I will not deny that you've been here, but I can answer honestly that I do not know where you are going."

I nodded. "Va bene. You're right." I quickly put all my clothes back on and equipped my weapons. "I just needed to vent for a moment. When I get frustrated, I feel like I need to kill something."

"That usually happens to me as well. Nothing like beating people up, eh?" Bartolomeo smiled and handed me my bag, which he'd seemed to have brought down from upstairs. "I got word that Ezio's on his way here to look for you. Best you be on your way, Sofia."

I took the bag and nodded. "Grazie, Bartolomeo. See you another time then." He waved as I trudged up the stairs. "Addio, Sofia! Safe travels!"

I walked out into the cool night air and sighed. Altair,IthinkitstimeIpayyouavisit.