Author's notes: First, an apology to all my readers. The last couple of weeks have been very stressful for me as I've had to submit one major assignment after another. My professors also peppered me with exams, so it took me a while to sit down and type out this next chapter. But don't worry I shall continue posting chapters from now on at a somewhat weekly basis, and since my semester ends in about a month I can devote a lot more time to writing this story. Please enjoy.
Entry #9
1490
Notes: As stated in previous notes, many of the entries prior to what we have dubbed entry #9 involved the interrogation, and disposal, of various roman prostitutes centered around the Rosa in Fiore Brothel. Suffice it to say the more grisly description given by the writer is more time consuming to our department than a simple summary of the facts he has learned. First he discovered the existence of the Assassin's order, though not by name, making him one of the few neutral parties to do so. Then he discovered the vital links in a chain of command leading from the local brothel to the Republic of Venice and the city of Florence. Unfortunately we were dissapointed to find no vital information that had not been retrieved from our other sources. However this entry does represent a turning point in the author's narrative with his introduction to our own order.
It seems that Father and I have been caught up in a conspiracy far greater than the local brothel. In fact it stretches far beyond Roma and possibly even Italia. But I am rambling, it is better that I write down what took place last night while it is fresh in my memory.
I had captured another parasite for interrogation, a young one this time, the wiser vermin have been harder to find as of late. I easily drugged her and relocated her to the abandoned warehouse near the docks. There I used my newfound powers of persuasion to elicit some useful information from her.
It seems that this secret organization that the courtesans are involved in has ties to a small fortress in Toscana, Monteriggioni. This fortress is also home to a powerful fighting force compromised of various well-trained mercenari. Curious, I plied her for the purpose of keeping such a fighting force at the ready. But she knew nothing, and then I made sure she knew death.
However as I dumped the body and turned to leave, a burly city guard spotted me and shouted for me to explain myself. I ran, he chased after. I used every side-alley I knew, I took the liberty of throwing over barrels full of cargo to make his pursuit more difficult, but years of physical extertion kept him on his feet.
As I rounded a corner and came to a dead end I felt bile rise in my throat. If I was caught now I would never know anything , why Father died, what this organization was planning, what their purpose was. Even worse, Father would be disgraced if I was found to be a murderer, our home would be condemed by the Borgia and those that relied on my medicines would die.
Of course the guard knew none of this, he merely grinned with satisfaction, having finally trapped his prey. Then he began to walk forward slowly brandishing the shortsword in his right hand, waving it about eagerly. As I prepared myself for a last ditch attempt, a voice, as if in answer to my plight, echoed through the alleyway. "Guard! What is all the commotion I can hear it from my bedroom!" Then Baltasar de Silva stepped into view behind the guard.
As the guard turned to face the barber I caught movement near de Silva's waist, he was reaching for something in his side pocket. Then, as quick as a spring breeze, and with the precision of a master surgeon, the barber lunged forward and brought his arm up and across the guard's throat twice, slicing it with the razor he had puled out of is pocket.
The guard gurgled a little, and then fell over, his blood seeping onto the floor. I looked up at de Silva, bewildered by his act of violence. And then I saw, of course this man was no barber. It was not that he had no skill with a razor, but his training was in more violent practices. When he cut hair he failed because he had to hesitate as he trimmed so as to not cause an harm. His skill with managing the people of the district pointed to training in diplomacy, and his ability to remain unnoticed for so long marked him as a spy.
It was obvious that the barber knew I was contemplating him as he leaned against a wall in the alley, cleaning his razor and making sure to sharpen it nonchalantly. "So," he said. "It seems I've bailed you out of a mess you couldn't get out of, eh doctore?" He tucked his razor away, and I relaxed, a little. "It was the least I could do, after what happened to your father. I don't normally care about people, but he did me a good turn once, stitched up a wound no questions asked." Then he looked straight at me, his eyes shining with a sort of intelligence that comes with experience. "So tell me, what is it that you've been doing in the middle of night, dressed like that?"
Then I had to think carefully. He knew my identity, meaning that if he tipped off the city guard I would be made an example of within a day. But he had saved me, and whatever his ulterior motives it was better to have him as an ally than as an enemy. So I told him everything. I told him how father and I had stumbled upon a plot to poison a guard captain bearing a letter to a powerful member of the military. How our investigation revealed something more sinister about the Rosa in Fiore and how Father had died trying to find out more. Then I told him of my plan, to hide my identity behind a disguise to interrogate and destroy these destructive elements.
All the while he was listening intently, his eyes flashing once with what looked like astonishment, when I told him what I knew about the secret order. When I was done he was silent for a moment, then he began to speak, this time in hushed tones.
"If everything you have learned is true, you have done me a great service. Such knowledge would be valuable to my employers." Then he paused and looked at the sky, thinking to himself. "I might be able to help you," he said, "I can teach you many things, including fleet-footed combat and how to escape persistent guards." He waved at the nearby by corpse with a smile on his face, "Combine this and your skill with poisons and you'll have an easier time finding your answers."
My heart leapt in my chest. If I could traverse the city without fear of the stray guard happening upon me, or being waylaid by every group of burly thugs or darting thieves, I could work much faster. "All right," I said, "But, I assume this service comes with a price."
His smile shrunk a little as he glanced out of the alleyway. Then he motioned for me to lean in as he began whispering. "All I ask is that you cease your... "investigation" until you've absorbed everything I have to teach you. Then there is the matter of recommending you to my employer. He can provide you with resources that would be of great use to you. It would be much easier than having to steal gondolas and the like from people who might take notice, and I'm sure you could benefit from access to more medical supplies for your legitimate business."
He waited for my nod and proceeded to give me instructions for our first meeting. I was to meet him tommorow dressed in civilian clothing at a vacant workshop he had bought and begin my training. I was to come alone and not tell anyone of our arrangement, or I might end up like the guard.
With that parting warning he removed himself from the wall and walked out into the street, whistling a happy tune. When his whistling faded out of earshot, I made my way home as quickly as possible. I arrived just moments ago and now the sun is rising to greet the day. And I shall rise to meet it.
