Assassin's Creed: Reversal of Shadows
Third
If it had taken more than a split second for him to recognize the voice, if there had been just a little more room for him to move his blade arm, the Assassin would have regretted his next action for the rest of his life. As it was, though he lifted his wrist blade to stab backwards into his attacker, he realized just in time that the arms around his neck were neither attempting to strangle nor restrain him, and knew why his eagle had not warned him of the presence.
He sighed and retracted the knife, lowering his arm to his side. "It's dangerous to scare me like that, Leonardo."
The artist released him, allowing the other to turn around and see a measure of apology in the bright blue eyes. "I'm sorry, amico mio, it's just been so long," Leonardo said with a smile, grasping his friend at the shoulders and peering into his face past the hood. "You look different."
Ezio could not keep back a small, returning grin. "And you look the same. The year has been kind to you."
A flicker of hesitance showed in the older man's face, and the Assassin looked at him in slight puzzlement.
"Well, yes, if anything at least, a lot has happened," the inventor said with rather forced nonchalance, releasing Ezio and turning back to the book case he had evidently been going through.
"Leonardo. What's going on?" he questioned seriously, unused to the drastically dulled enthusiasm in his friend's voice. "Or at least to begin with, what are you doing in my house?"
"Ah, that's an easy one," Leonardo said with a gentle smile, not looking away from the scattering of books that had long been left on the tall shelves. "I am just answering a request from your uncle—a few documents needed to be recovered from here, nothing too important, but still quite inconvenient if in the wrong hands. As for the reason why he asked this of me... that one is a little bit more difficult."
Ezio cocked his head at him, perching upon the edge of the desk as he watched him search. "I have time. Please don't leave me in the dark, amico."
"Yes, yes, of course not," the artist said absently, pulling several volumes from the cabinet with a sense of finality and setting them on the table next to his friend. The Assassin watched him with a measure of concern as the other placed his palms upon the desk; head bowed slightly, he evidently choosing his words carefully. "You remember Niccolo Machiavelli?"
A short nod. "The Assassin who aided us in the Battle of Forli, yes."
"He approached me last year, a little bit after you visited me in Venezia with that odd artifact of yours. He too came to me for... a favor."
"Don't sound so solemn, Leonardo," Ezio said with a slight teasing smirk, though inwardly he admitted he was a little worried at the stiff tone. "You make it seem as if such a large weight has been placed upon your shoulders."
The baleful blue gaze that looked towards him stung more than the bite of a blade, and the Assassin immediately regretted his words.
"You are not the only one who has been busy these past months," Leonardo responded quietly.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, sincerely; eager to apologize despite not fully understanding what the circumstances were. "Please, continue."
There was still reluctance in the other's tone as he paced a few steps away, not quite meeting Ezio's gaze. "…You trust me, amico mio?"
"Of course," the Assassin answered firmly, though completely confused as to where this was going. "It is still as I said to you in Venezia a few years ago. I have known you for a long time; if I can't trust you, there is no one."
Leonardo let out a quiet breath and moved to sit across from him in an armchair by the door, the words seeming to solidify his decision. "I have taken on a job that few can actually consider honorable. Several months ago, Niccolo asked me to accompany him into the enemy's ranks as a spy," he spoke flatly, the words coming in a rushed breath as if he wished to throw them from himself in disgust. "I have been working for the Templars for almost a year now."
The Assassin stared at him, disbelief etched across his features, before he blurted, "But that's ridiculous. I've been grateful for all your help, Leonardo, but there's no reason for you to put yourself in such danger for a cause that barely concerns you-"
"Doesn't it?" the artist challenged, meeting his eyes with a solid determination. "You are my friend, Ezio. Do you know how difficult it is to have you disappear, sometimes for years at a time, and not know whether you are alive or dead? At least this way, I am making myself useful while you are away. I may not be a warrior like you, but I can take care of myself. Though… already, I have done many things I regret."
The nobleman continued to frown at him, hearing the shallowly hidden hurt in his friend's voice, and realizing it pained him as well. "But this is not you," he persisted quietly, unable to imagine the gentle painter as anything more than that.
"Perhaps not a year ago, but by now I have accepted it," Leonardo said in a measured voice, finally seeming to regain his calm. "Besides, it has provided us with a lot of information. For example, the reason Signore Mario asked me to remove these documents from your house. We suspect the Templars are planning a siege of Firenze; for they have been channeling men and resources into the Toscana countryside for months now, allocating them for the building of siege towers and cannons. It won't be long before they launch their attack."
"Yes, I did notice a sudden increase in Templar agents around the city," Ezio acknowledged, brow furrowing slightly at the memory. "I only just got away from them, actually."
"Were they the ones who injured you?"
"No, it's more of a parting gift from the Spaniard, actually—wait, what?"
"The wound in your side. Are you seriously attempting to hide it from me, Ezio?" Leonardo asked with wry amusement, standing and retrieving an armful of medical supplies from his bag in one corner of the room.
"Yes, well, I can't seem to hide it from anyone today," Ezio said, grinning and obligingly beginning to shed aside his uniform to allow the painter to look at the injury.
There was a stretched silence as Leonardo busily began undoing the bandages around his chest, the other meanwhile attempting not to flinch as the cloth pulled at the half-formed scab. Outwardly, the artist seemed to be reacting as normal, examining his flank with the easy expertise of a self-trained medic and all the while murmuring of previously studied anatomy, remembering the position of human vitals in order to assess the wound's extent. However, the Assassin felt his eagle spirit keen, sensing the other's masked unease.
"You're still not telling me everything, Leonardo," the Assassin said carefully, keeping still but eying the other as he watched him work.
Leonardo did not answer him for a span before he finally sighed, absently tugging at the thread he was using to suture the wound closed. "I'm sorry, amico mio, I don't mean to hide things from you. It's just that there has been something on my mind for the past few days, but I do not want to sound as if I'm complaining."
"Don't hold back," Ezio said seriously. "You've done so much for me already, the least I can do is listen to your troubles."
A small smile finally graced the artist's face at this, and he drew back decisively as he finished stitching and binding the injury. "Thank you, Ezio, but you are being too kind. If only you knew what I have done-"
"What can be worse than almost daily taking others' lives and blood?" he countered, though his tone was light.
"Yes, I suppose so. But it is just… it was I who designed the siege weapons for the Templars," Leonardo said rather rigidly, firmly meeting the other's dark eyes as if awaiting judgment. "I gave them plans for towers, artillery, and cannons, among other things. In effect, I was the one that caused this danger to your hometown. The innocent blood shed during the siege will be on my hands."
Ezio straightened, pulling his shirt and doublet back on so he could stand and face the artist directly. "You are assuming that I will allow the siege to take place at all," he spoke with an easy smile, reaching out and firmly gripping the other's shoulder. "I promise you, I will not allow them to ever use those weapons against Firenze. Remember, the city is still on our side; they will first need to turn its people against the Assassins. After Paola and Volpe lead the revolt against Savonarola, their debt to us won't be so easily forgotten."
Leonardo seemed to relax visibly at this, and the Assassin was relieved to see the brightness return to his friend's eyes. "Yes, you're right of course. I am worrying too much."
The nobleman released him, lifting his hood back into place. "I need to leave now, amico, but please don't travel to Monteriggioni until I come find you, all right?"
"I will wait," Leonardo answered with a nod, picking up the handful of books he had taken from the study's shelves. "Look for me at my old workshop. It has been rented out to another by now, but they have allowed me to lodge with them for a few days. Just… stay safe, Ezio."
The Assassin gave him a carefree smirk in response, wordlessly assuring him. "I will see you later, Leonardo."
He moved deeper into the palazzo rather than going out the front door, knowing of the concealed passage behind the fireplace in the building's second floor. The old, blackened wood that had been left in the dry fireplace rolled onto the carpet as Ezio pressed a gloved hand to one of the marble tiles framing it, releasing the hidden door's mechanism. The smell of damp and must was strong here, but he plunged through it all the same, reminded of the many Assassins' tombs he had searched over the years.
It wasn't long until he emerged into the streets, brushing off a few spider webs that had caught on his cowl in the narrow passageway. He could not sense any nearby enemies, but he knew they were out there, scattered throughout his city. He eyed the building across from him and took its wall at a run, lip pulling back in a small, feral grin as he finally loosed his eagle to the hunt.
Author's Note: Another, rather dialogue-heavy chapter. This always seems to happen whenever Leonardo's around.
