Chapter 3: The Hidden Truth

The next following evening, Vittore Moretti was officially claimed missing; search warrants were placed across Venice like wild fire. My father and Lorenzo Moretti (father of Vittore) scampered the streets of Venezia, asking for any witnesses seeing Vittore recently. Perla Moretti, the mother of Vittore, constantly asked me of the last time I spoke with Vittore; she nearly questioned me till my ears peeled off… I mentioned accompanying him to Carnevale, and then I lied about knowing where he hurried off to. Vittore would hold a terrible grudge if I pronounced his intentions, so I sealed my lips. It felt centuries until the Moretti family came to a decision of returning home.

Late at night, my father retreated home with no leading path to finding Vittore; yet my father informed us on another tragedy. Doge Barbarigo (the man that recently replaced the deceased Doge Mocenigo) was murdered last night, in Carnevale. According to rumors, the murderer is the same assassino [assassin] that most likely killed Doge Mocenigo; strangely, no one knows how he murdered Barbarigo at all. The only evidence is a loud eruption; however it could be mistakenly thought for a firework explosion…

"So many bad news…," my mother breathed, slumping on a dining chair, "Will these terrible memories fade away?"

"Vittore…," my father spoke silently, "I must wonder why it must be this way? Vittore isn't the sort of running from home; he must have a clear motive." Painful as it is, the burden of lying to the Moretti and my own parents, I desired to announce the horrible truth of Vittore deporting to Spain…but how a terrible grudge he will weigh upon my soul if I spoke. Not being able to withstand this family meeting, I created an excuse to leave.

"I'm terribly tired, father and mother," I informed, yawning of fake drowsiness, "I will attend to my dwellings now…good night." Ascending to my bedroom, I laid in bed; that night, I could not force my eyelids to fall into slumber. Vittore's decision tormented my ability to think, I solemnly was disturbed with his intention of abandoning home.


Not being able to rest, I attired my casual white blouse, black slacks, leather boots, and forest green cloak. Leaving the house, I silently shut the door and wandered off on the cobblestone path. I conjectured of traveling where my two feet carried me, just to keep my mind from Vittore's "disappearance." I headed down the market plaza; since the sun waved farewell to day, the stands stood empty along with patrons. I gradually stepped the path, between the merchant stands. Completely caught into childhood memories, I remembered the misadventure ten years ago. Losing sight of Matilde…meeting a wounded man…and tending to his wounds; I spotted the dark alley way the man was found in.

A chilling breeze interrupted the remembrance, then a tumbling parchment caught on my left leg. Prying the page open, it identified itself as a wanted poster of a criminal. Examining, this is what I comprehended:

Morti di Vivo

A portrait of a hooded man nearly filled the entire poster. Consumed by the shadow of the hood, a faint smile can be seen clearly.

Awarding: 50,000 florins by the Pazzi Family, it was sealed with their coat of arms.

The jaw structure…the details; they all seemed familiar. I gasped in astonishment, wide eyed; it's the man from Carnevale! He's the assassin!

Suddenly, I caught noises of slight movement behind me; quickly turning, I saw nothing but an empty stone road. "Who goes there?" I beckoned, advancing towards where the source could possibly emitted noise. Nothing responded, only the breeze whistling through the midnight atmosphere. Then, the noise volume heightened and out approached the stranger from last night. Strangely, the man entered from that dark alley way nine years ago… My heart pulsed rhythmically and icy sensations slithered down my back; casually, he greeted me with the familiar, mischievous grin.


"Why, it's the lovely lady from Carnevale," the man spoke smoothly, "Such an abnormal time to wander in Venice, don't you agree?" I remained silent and unresponsive, still holding the wanted poster; he noticed the partly wrinkled parchment within my palms as he advanced slowly towards me. The man halted in his steps immediately as I rechecked if it wasn't make-believe.

"Morti di Vivo?" I mumbled, reexamining the heading, "Shouldn't it be Vivo o Morto [Dead or Alive]? The Pazzi have created fools of themselves for a few years I can see." The man laughed softly to my remark; having no further use, I surrendered the poster to the breeze flowing by me.

"I suppose you did hear of Doge Barbarigo's murder?" the hooded stranger asked.

"Yes, assassin, your doings built an endless commotion, with my family and other Venetian families. Why murder the Doge? What has he done?"

"Even if I spoke the truth, you hardly will believe me. His intentions did not deserve a chance to be risen, as being Doge; that is all I will state."

"Is that the same excuse for murdering Mocenigo? Did he ever cause trouble? He served his entire life as a modest man, and yet you've taken his life for nothing! Nothing!"

That brief moment, the assassin sighed, turning his head to the side; shaking his head, the man gradually retained eye contact with me.

"…I will say this once, and only once," the assassin sincerely claimed, in a serious tone; he folded his arms, "I had no intention of murdering Mocenigo, in fact I planned on ceasing it from happening; it was Barbarigo that poisoned the poor noble." Silence. Nothingness. That is my reply to what the man affirmed. The smile upon his face vanished with a deliberate expression replacing it; if this is true, then why is the man portrayed as an enemy of Venezia? I seemed reluctant to object about this matter…he sounded so truthful…

"Either if you trust my words or not, that is how it ended," the assassin shook his head in dismay, "Men have no reason of compelling order and power to rule many; that is not how life should function. The reason I live is to serve and save innocent people, just like you. Without further interruptions, the assassin commenced sauntering back into the alley. I cringed to his last explanation of living; it faintly resembled Vittore's reason of leaving. I poised silently, unable to understand the events happening around me; then I began heading home, to attempt forgetting the encounter with the assassin.


As the sun rose up, my mother contended me to attend to Marco Tomassoni's home, a new suitor that my parents arranged for me. According to her, the Tomassoni family sent a letter; it regarded for a meeting with their son and suggested me as a perfect wife. The Tomassoni family is well known with creating great weapons and armor; in fact, they own three blacksmith forgeries in Venezia. Truly holding this unfortunate, they did not best equip themselves with good appeal and tidiness. Preparing myself, I adorned the lavender gown my mother placed out for me that was laced with lustrous gold threads; underneath the gown, I worn a rather tightened corset Matilde tied together (I could possibly die of suffocation).

"Oh Elisa…you look gorgeous in this dress," Matilde proclaimed, brushing off tiny amounts of dust, "I'm definitely sure Marco is going to love you once he takes a glance!"

"That's the problem, Matilde…I don't want him to love me," I muttered, scowling towards the ground, "He looks as if he's part beast himself!"

"Elisa! Don't be so negative with this young man! I am definitely sure he has a kind heart and will so no mercy of loving; even if it ruins his tough exterior ego."

"…Matilde, you never met the Tomassoni family; hence, you never saw their appearance. Believe me, I rather be a nun than marry a vicious looking lion."

"You never know, dear, unless you give chances!"

"This is absurd! It's insulting to be arranged in meeting Marco!"

The counter arguments kept flying across from the walls of my bedroom, until my mother hushed us both with lecturing words. Suited up for the Tomassoni family, my mother and I left home to the blacksmith's house. The bustling street of the Venetian market place was commonly crowded with people; merchants were shouting great deals and the scent of fruits and vegetables filtered the air. Taking a different route, my mother suggested we head through the five chain gardens of Venezia.

The five chain gardens were built there, for people to relax; a place where it remained peaceful and away from the busy life of Venezia. Sadly, it always was empty; people preferred to work hard and relax in their homes. Each garden supported lives of a variety of flowers, brushes, and small trees; this portrayed itself as a personal paradise for me. As a child, I wandered through this place and pretended to rule it like it was my own kingdom.

As we approached the shaded arch, of the third garden, my mother stopped her tracks; she placed a hand in front of me to halt. "Mother, what is wrong? The Tomassoni shop is right ahead of us," I mumbled, looking at her; I could see the blacksmith shop ahead. My mother did not respond, nor removed her hand from my path. In an instant, my mother grabbed hold of me; her right arm looped around my neck, causing me to choke.

"M-mother!" I gasped, kicking and struggling for freedom; from her pouch, she revealed a short, silver blade. Positioning the blade, my mother led the tip to touch my neck…preparing to slaughter me!

"Let God pour mercy upon thy soul…"

"Don't!" I cried, shocked and frightened of my mother's intention.

From nowhere, a mysterious savior forced my mother to the ground; she dropped the blade and released me from death's clutches. "Damn assassin!" she screeched on the ground, clenching fists in fury, "Never did learn how to stop interrupting duties!" In lack of air, I weakened in the arms and my vision partly blurred; then, the assassin carried me off, in his arms. He rushed through a rather dark tunnel, which led straight back to the streets of Venice; perhaps this is where he came from…

"What's going on?" I coughed, noticing my right arm was cleaved and bleeding, "How…how did you find me?"

"There's no time to explain, we must hurry!" the assassin growled, carrying me towards the docks; Venetian soldiers caught sight of him, and they all hastened towards him. Halting his steps, the assassin ran towards a path, which was a dead end.

"Merda [shit]!" hissed the assassin angrily, "Where are you, Antonio?" Faster than a speeding horse, knives struck the soldiers like rainfall. In agony, the soldier screeched to their undesirable deaths and crumbled to the ground. Nodding in the air, the assassin thanked for the assistance; I looked up to see…thieves…so many of them, on top of a building.

"Ezio! You almost led those soldiers to the thief guild!" a lean man angrily growled, appearing from behind us, "We could have been exposed to the enemy!"

"Regardless, I was unable to blend with the crowd with a wounded person in my arms," the assassin sighed, staring directly at me; a kind smile appeared from his lips, "You're going to be fine now."

"Who is this? What purpose did you have…of taking her here?"

"Cappello's wife just tried to murder her own daughter; I had to do something, Antonio."

"Cappello…? I thought he was leading the Templar army, up in Roma!"

"No he's here Antonio; he was there…leading the patrol army in the palazzo [palace] of Mocenigo…the night of the murder."

"What…are you talking about?" I asked, astonished by their argument, facing the new face, "My father is a leader of an army? That cannot be true, he's a tailor; he has been one for many years!"

"Signoria [miss] Cappello, sometimes you cannot trust the words of your parents," the man spoke with an earnest tone, "Your father is Comandante [Commander] Goffredo Cappello, the most feared Templar warrior of Italia."


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