(Ezio)
You know how bad a wound is by the pain. And I was in blinding pain. Absolutely blinding.
The swordsman had come from nowhere. He had practically materialized out of the shadows like a demon. I was not even dressed in my assassin's attire. He cut my side. He did not steal from me. He just attacked me.
And left.
And now my vision was going. Dark spots shrouded my vision. The moon shone a blurry light on me. I was breathing heavily, though it was not helping my predicament. Every time I felt my side spew blood as my pulse quickened. If I did not find a doctor soon I was going to die. There was no question about it.
I clutched onto the sides of houses, leaving bloody hand prints. I knew this place. I had been here before. I had been here many times before.
A man was about to walk into his home.
"You," I yelled as loudly as I could, but I knew it only sounded like a hoarse whisper.
Then I fell to the ground.
*
I woke to the sound of clanking. Rising I clutched my side, wincing in pain. Then the memories of the previous night came flooding back. The man. The sword. The wound.
The wound.
I was so sure that I would not live to see morning. Pulling my short over my head I looked to see a large cut that had been sewed with tight stitches excellently. The skin around it was purple-blue and slightly yellow.
"Good morning," a familiar voice greeted.
My eyes rose to meet Leonardo's. "Good morning yourself. Was it you I saw outside last night?" I asked.
My friend shook his head. "It was my landlord. He told me that a young man had been attacked. To be honest you were the last person I was expected. Especially because I would have thought you knew how to at least protect yourself."
My pride took a chance to lick its own wounds. "Believe me," I spat, "if I ever get my hands on who ever it was..."
"You don't know who it was?"
"No idea."
"Does that not frighten you slightly?" asked Leonardo, pulling up a chair so he was beside me.
I leaned against the frame of the bed. I had to think. When I was in my robes, I disguised myself so no one would know me. That was the cornerstone of being an assassin: secrecy. But, if that secrecy had been violated...
It couldn't have been possible.
"I'm always so careful..." I began.
Leo nodded his head, "Yes, but even the best of us can err sometimes."
But, I was so sure that I did not err. I had learned not to, my making no mistakes was an art. It was something in which I was much practiced.
"Do you think it is possible that someone was trying to assassinate me?" I posed.
The scholar shrugged his shoulders, looking over a document. "Anything is possible my good friend. I cannot say what that man wanted, but clearly it was something."
"What are you looking at?" I asked.
Leonardo looked up at me, the excited glint in his eye that he always had when he was discovering or inventing something. "Look, it was a drawing I bought off of some painter who's father gained it as a family heirloom."
"What?"
Leonardo waved his hand in the air, "It is not important. Look."
He handed me the piece of parchment he was clutching in his hands. He told me to look, but all I could see was a map of the city-states. "It's a map," I told him, preparing to hand it back.
"It's not just a map," he proclaimed, crouching so he could point at the left hand corner. "Read what that inscription says."
" Ab origine. It's Latin."
"Yes. From the origins. It's an old motto of one of the most famous orders in history," Leonardo said and reached above my head to grab a book off the shelf. He flipped through the pages until he stopped.
"Do you see this?" he asked.
I took the book from him. The picture was that of a wolf's head atop a sword. "What is this?"
"A symbol."
"For what?"
"Shouldn't you know this. Did your father not tell you about the Romulans?"
No, my father died before he told me anything of importance, I thought bitterly to myself. Instead of voicing my answer I just shook my head instead.
"The Romulans come from the story of how the city Rome originated. Romulus and Remus were twins raised by a wolf. When they were old enough both wanted to be the absolute emperor of what we now call Rome. Eventually the twins fought to the death. Romulus won the battle and became the first emperor of Rome."
"No wonder why they're so violent," I quipped.
Leonardo smiled. "They found some artifacts from the Romulan order in Tuscany. I've been asked to join the other scholars there."
"Tuscany?"
Leonardo nodded his, consumed by his map. I slowly rose and went to stand beside him. "How are your stitches feeling?" he asked.
"Uncomfortable, but alright I guess."
"Good, I sewed them in myself, you know."
I paused, "You're no doctor."
"No, but I know a few. You're more than welcome to travel with me to Tuscany if you like. Perhaps it would be good for you to leave the city for a few months. Doesn't some of your family live there?" he inquired.
"Yes, my uncle."
"Well, I'm sure your mother and sister would not mind if you took a break from city life."
Mother and Claudia. They were probably wondering where I was. "Sorry Leonardo, I have to leave. My mother must be wondering about me by now."
He nodded, "I understand. See me on Wednesday to tell me if you'll be joining me."
"Alright," I answered. I buttoned my doublet and left the scientist's apartment.
*
(Sonia)
I had been summoned to my father's study. The last time I had seen the inside of his sanctum was when he had told me I was being exiled to France. I hesitantly knocked on the thick wooden door.
"Come in," he called.
"Good morning father," I said, bowing my head slightly in the fashion of the French court.
He did not answer me for a moment. When I looked up I could see that he was smiling at me. "Look at you. It seems that you have finally grown into a woman."
I smiled slightly. Eleven years gone and finally I had become respectable.
"Welcome home child," he said kissing my cheek.
"Thank you father," I said obediently.
"You are quite welcome child," he answered.
He moved to his great book shelf and pulled out a thick volume, laying it on the table. Sitting at his desk he said, "You will not be surprised when I tell you that I will be going out of the city for a few days."
"No, has business here been good?"
It was a question that could have been answered by the state of the room. It was filled with books and fine leather furniture. There were tapestries covering the bare walls.
"As fine as it can be." The corners of his eyes crinkled as he read a document.
"Do you mind if I borrow one of your books, Pa?" I asked.
He looked up from his reading, "Do you read Latin?"
"Yes."
He seemed surprised, "Yes, then I guess it is alright."
"Thanks Pa," I took the book off the shelf and kissed the top of his head. I shut the door behind me and walked down to the kitchens. My youngest brother was sitting the large wooden table, flirting with one of the younger maids.
When he saw me he stood up and opened his arms. "Sonia, the prodigal daughter!"
"I am his only daughter, Dante," I reminded my brother.
Dante's young eyes shone with laughter. We were the closest in age and the closest in friendship. He was only a year and a half older than me. I had missed him when I was in France and I frequently sent him letters. As Dante grew older though, he responded to me less often.
He embraced me, "I've missed you, little sister."
"And I've missed you," I said.
We walked outside the kitchen and into the villa's courtyard. "I see that you've gained yourself a pair of wandering eyes."
He snorted, "I cannot help myself. Tuscan women have not grown any uglier since you've left."
"You'd had better be careful, she can't be any older than fourteen," I cautioned.
"And hark! My sister left a tyrannical, ungrateful daughter and has returned as the picture of the Madonna herself!" he yelled from across the courtyard.
"Hush Dante!" I tried to cover his mouth, but he pushed me away. Our bodies may have changed but our min sets had not. Dante was still the overzealous, passionate soul he was eleven years ago.
He laughed loudly and ran toward the stables.
"Where are you going?" I called.
"The stables!"
"Why?"
"To see if you can ride as well as curtsey!"
I lifted my skirts above my ankles and chased after him across the terrace.
