Apple Stories – Move and Countermove
I'm smiling to myself as I make my way from the prison cells in the basement of the keep to my private chambers. I feel invigorated by the morning's exercise. I took my time about it and feel fairly certain I have the whole story about Leonardo's journey. I have to find some water, though. The cloth I wiped my hands with couldn't remove the bloody stickiness. I should probably wash my face as well.
I was informed that Leonardo was up and I hope he is well enough to have lunch with me.
According to the two prisoners, Leonardo tricked the leader into shooting the third man in the group. I'd like to hear Leonardo's version of the events. I grin to myself as I clean the blood off. If it's true, I cannot imagine that he did it intentionally. Then again, people are generally quite willing to compromise their principles when their lives are threatened.
I should like to do that; put him in mortal danger and observe. But he would know and never forgive me. It must remain a fantasy. Looking into his eyes as he slammed me into the wall yesterday, I saw a new side of him. Not just anger but the potential to act on it. It excites me. But to my surprise it also makes me long for his softness.
I-O-I
When he enters the room he looks almost like himself. The stubble is gone, he is clean, and although the borrowed clothes are a bit too wide for his lean frame he is well dressed again. His eyes are clear, calm; the feverish rage of yesterday seems to have burned itself out.
He gives me a very slight bow before sitting down. It's just him and me. The servants have brought the food and been dismissed. When I gesture with the wine he nods and holds out his glass, almost smiling. Everything is like the winter we spent together. Except this time he is not in my service yet. I briefly wonder what I will do if he declines but I push the thought away.
"You are better?" I ask.
"I'm as good as I can be under the circumstances." he comments as he reaches for the food. "I'm wondering, though..." he continues evenly: "What is it you think I can do for you? Why me? What are you hoping to gain from the Apple that you cannot do yourself?"
"That's a lot of questions." I smile at him.
"All of them reasonable." he notes calmly.
"Reasonable for someone I know I can entrust with specialised knowledge because he's in my pay and bound by an oath of loyalty, yes. Right now, you are just a guest."
It's true, of course, but also meant as a joke, and when he laughs it makes me happy. The smile-lines by his eyes chase the last shadow from the bruise away and make his face look so alive. "That's fair. I'll enjoy your hospitality as a guest for the rest of the day then, Your Grace."
"I'll endeavour to be a good host." I tell him. "I think I know how to entertain you. I have something to engage your mind when we are done here."
"That sounds ominously interesting..." he says. "So, Your Grace, have you had time to read any interesting books this summer?"
"But of course. Considering my former occupation in the Church, I always keep up on my Bible studies." I tell him as we start eating, trying hard not to laugh.
"Naturally! You must miss your true vocation terribly."
"Was it really worth it to leave the Church, I've gained so little?" I muse mockingly.
Leonardo smiles: "Even though I'm not happy about the circumstances of my being here, it's... not completely disagreeable to see you again." he says.
I shrug dismissively: "It isn't thoroughly offensive to have you here. Where were you going?"
He looks at me questioningly: "Going?"
"You told me that you were packing when my people showed up and unfortunately chose to interpret their orders rather freely."
"Ah..." He nods and puts the bread he has been holding down; looks at me. "I have no idea." he says. "I thought I would perhaps go to Monteriggioni, or what was left of it, and see if I could find anyone there who could tell me if he was still alive. Tell me what happened." He looks at me for a while, searching my face for a reaction. "I had no plan. I just had to do something."
"Believe me, I wish you weren't caught in the middle of this." I say. I'm not certain if he is being completely truthful about his intended itinerary. Perhaps he would know where to find the assassin, know how their cult works enough to know of their emergency procedures? I've assumed he would be a terrible liar. But I've also assumed that he couldn't slam me against a wall in fury.
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me, obviously trying to figure out what I'm thinking; then he smiles, shakes his head: "I don't know where he is." he says softly. "But I hope he is safe with his family."
I push the plate away and lean in over the table: "You have to understand my view on this." I say. "Auditore stole the Apple from my father and humiliated him. He began this by taking something that wasn't his. But I don't care about him any further. If he stays out of the game from now on, I will not harm him."
"It's hardly a game." Leonardo says.
"You are wrong. That's all it is and I'll prove it by making the next move." I can't help but smile. This will be interesting. We have scarcely eaten anything but I stand up, gesture for him to come with me. Puzzled and a little wary, he follows. It's a short walk down to the courtyard of the inner keep. I open the door, and as we step outside I observe him intently. The sky is overcast, threatening rain. An appropriate setting.
I see Leonardo grow pale, struggle to keep his calm at the sight before him. The men who brought him here, both kneeling, bound, their heads resting on sturdy blocks of wood. It seems I beat one of them a little too much for sport earlier, he seems to have more or less collapsed at the block. The other is looking in our direction and I can see in his eyes that he is certain of death. He is calm. Has given up. His stare is empty, even as his breath is fast and frantic.
Micheletto is there, in the shadows, staring at the condemned, a small, hungry smile on his lips.
The two soldiers I personally paid to act as executioners raise their axes high, ready for my signal. I instructed them not to sharpen their weapons. I want the show to be interesting in case Leonardo surprises me. The feeling in the courtyard is tense and thick, exactly the mood I adore at executions, even in spite of there being no crowd. I made sure to keep the courtyard closed. Only a few guards, the condemned and the executioners. The hush, the deadly expectation. It lingers deliciously in the air.
Leonardo turns away from the spectacle and looks at me. His eyes seem much darker than usual.
"You see the game now? This was my move. Now it's your turn." I tell him calmly.
It takes a moment for him to answer. An interesting happening; him not knowing how to respond...
"They are people. Not game pieces." he finally says, his voice low, intended only for me.
"At the moment you are incorrect."
"And why is that, Your Grace?"
"I'm extremely unhappy about what they did to you. I want them punished. But I will abide by your decision concerning their fate." I say and watch the glorious display of emotions in his features.
Leonardo turns his head and looks at the men who can expect death any moment. I want to remind him of the pain they caused him, I want him to react. I can't take my eyes off him. If ever he had a reason to want someone dead, I expect this is it. I would love to see the gentle facade crumble once more. I want to see him crave retribution, lust for someone's death. I want to be able to share that with him.
He stares at the men for what seems to me half an eternity. "Then let them go." he finally says and I'm startled to find a wave of relief washing over me. I can still trust him. I still know him. I still want him.
I nod my head: "If that is your wish, I'll let them live." I tell him. "But would you still spare them if I told you that I would send them off to hunt the assassin? One of them might be the one to take his life."
He looks at me, suddenly calm: "I thought you wouldn't hunt him if he stayed out of the game."
"Do you believe he will?" I ask him.
"Let them go." he says, waiting, looking at me expectantly.
"I'll be merciful." I call out, and the would-be executioners lower their axes. "Get them to their garrison. They have duties to attend to."
The soldiers step in, haul the men to their feet, cut the ropes that bind them, drag them off. One is still senseless, the other seems mostly confused, looking around him comically as he is led away, dragging his feet.
My eyes wander to Micheletto across the courtyard. He is looking in my direction. There is a strange expression on his face, something I'm not familiar with even though I've known him for years. It's not disgust exactly, not hatred or jealousy, but something strangely in between. How dare he! Suddenly it dawns on me that he is looking at Leonardo next to me, and my anger melts away as quickly as it flared. This is amusing. I cannot resist turning my back on Micheletto, pretending not to have noticed his petty display, and put a hand on Leonardo's arm. Gently. He is warm to the touch.
"You are kinder than I am." I tell him.
He nods: "That's a word for it." he says quietly. "I think I understand the game."
"Really?" I laugh.
"It's my move now." he says and turns to leave. I follow him back up the stairs. We don't speak until we are back at our lunch. I'm still hungry, though Leonardo is obviously not, picking at the food with his knife absentmindedly.
"Let's talk about the terms of my employment." he finally says, composed, businesslike.
I smile: "I thought you were going to be my guest and nothing else?"
"The diversions you set for your guests unnerve me. I'd rather be in your service." he states.
I can't help but laugh at this. He knows I didn't mean to punish my people as a kind gesture to him and there is freedom in that; not having to pretend too much. "Fine. What are you terms?"
"First I need to know exactly what you hope I can accomplish. I'm not even certain I'm the right man for the job."
"The Apple is a weapon." I say. "Or so I'm told. We know that it can be utilised to dull men's minds, but this is unambitious. I don't want to rule thousands of drooling idiots unless I absolutely have to. I want people to unite under solid, ordered laws and to reject anarchy and lawlessness because it's the best thing to do. What I want from the Apple-" I stop myself at the look in his eyes. "What!" I demand.
"Nothing, Your Grace. It's just a... remarkable conflict where the desired end result is the same for both combatants. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You are grievously mistaken! They want anarchy. We want order. They want people to choose crime as a valid option. We want people to choose a life of decent compliance with their society. The assassins are wrong. We are right."
"And I am neutral, it seems..." he says. There is a troubled look in his eyes and he quickly turns his attention to the cup in front of him, twirling it between his fingers.
"I wish you would see the good of the side I represent." I tell him earnestly. If only he would, I could keep him.
He gives me a sharp glance and shakes his head: "Both sides indiscriminately kill members of the people whose best interests they claim to serve. I will have no more to do with that than I have to." he says with finality. Before I can interject anything he continues: "You say the Apple is more than a weapon. Why don't you try to discover it yourself?"
"I tried." I say, letting him change the subject for now. "I sat with it for a few moments, and the things it showed me were too... confusing. There is also the matter of time, and mine is best spent with my attention elsewhere. You, on the other hand, you break impossible codes for fun. You are perhaps the most imaginative man alive and you can be trusted when you give your word. You are the only one I will turn the Apple over to."
He seems unable to control a small satisfied smirk: "Are you hoping to lower my wages with flattery, Your Grace?" he asks.
"Perhaps after I hear your terms." I tell him smilingly.
"You'll pay me three times what you paid me last winter." he says and I laugh loudly. He is completely unabashed, though, smiling at me: "First part is my regular wage, second part is an apology for dragging me here against my will and third part is compensation for the money, and reputation, I'm losing in commissions I cannot finish."
"Even you aren't worth that much." I state, lying. I enjoy this.
"Yes I am." he simply answers, smiling calmly.
"I will double your pay from last winter and make it known that you are a prisoner. I'll make certain your patrons are made aware of it. Then you will not lose any reputation."
"No!" he says promptly. "I will not be a prisoner again, not even for make-believe."
"How characteristically principled of you."
"And I'm not even done... I must know what I'm employed to do, so that I may know when I'm done with the task. When I can go home."
"That would be difficult to say since I don't know what you might find." I tell him.
"Perhaps you would prefer to simply set a time limit? And I will do what I can within that time."
"If I am going to pay you triple you will stay with me for a year!" I state and see in his face that this time frame startles him. I'm perfectly willing to pay him what he asks for, but I will certainly keep him so that he has ample time to research the damned sphere. And having him close, having him within reach for a year where my father cannot interject is a thrilling prospect.
"A year? But if I am to research the Apple, I cannot follow you on campaign when the summer comes. Nor do I wish to."
I hold up my hands: "I will not force you."
"Fine. One year, after which you will let me go peacefully." he says, measuring me with his gaze again as he continues: "And in addition to my pay, I want you to swear that for as long as I remain in your service, you will not pursue Ezio Auditore. You will not send anyone out to search for him, hurt him in any way or cause anyone else to do so."
I stare at him. That is a bold demand to make. He meets my harsh stare with composure.
"Those are ruthless terms. Do you want me to put my own life in danger! If the criminal did survive, there is every reason to expect that he wants me dead very badly." I snap at him angrily.
"I understand. And insist." he says. "Should he come here to seek you that would be different. But I will not aid you if I know you are hunting him."
"You damned beast of a painter!" I get up; place myself behind him, my hands on the table on either side of him. He is motionless, doesn't turn his head to look at me although we are so close my breath touches his ear. Now I remember exactly how infuriating his calm can be.
"Why the hell am I not having you imprisoned and tortured until you work for me for free and tell me everything I want to know about your precious assassin?" I sneer him angrily.
"Because then we would both lose the game. And it would be an uninspired move, Your Grace." he tells me and finally turns his head enough for our cheeks to touch. His skin is warm. Why do I let him escape the most horrendous acts of insolence completely unpunished? I slit my own brother's throat and had his worthless carcass tossed in the Tiber and for some reason I cannot bring myself to harm a peasant-born painter? He is not intimidated by me.
"Fine. I accept your terms." I finally tell him. "And you are mine for a year."
"Well played." he smiles and inclines his head a little so that his lips brush my cheek briefly. "When do I begin?" he asks softly.
"Tomorrow morning." I tell him, retreating. "You are still my guest for the rest of the day."
"In that case I think I will lock myself in my room for the rest of the day before you offer me a fresh diversion." he says, getting up. "Perhaps I will see you later, Your Grace."
Next Chapter - The Battle of the Notebook
