Author's Note: I apologize for the delay, the past couple of weeks have been quite busy.
Assassin's Creed: Reclamation of Shadows
False Thrall
The dark foreboding at the realization that the Piece of Eden had been taken was lessened somewhat by the almost absurd demand. "How admirable," Ezio jeered after a moment's pause. "You steal a weapon from an enemy, then ask him how it works."
"You speak as if it ever belonged to you," Cesare said disdainfully, frowning and leisurely pacing before him. "If I remember right, you were merely the thief that snatched it from my father's hands after he sponsored the year-long voyage to retrieve it. Besides, I recommend that you remember your current situation before you begin refusing me."
"Did I say I was refusing?" A smirk tugged at his scarred lip as he leaned forward to address the other to his face. "Just hand me the Apple and I'll be more than happy to show you how it works. I guarantee that it will be the last thing you ever see."
The gunshot reverberated overly loud in the narrow space, but Ezio did not shy from it, even as the bullet impacted next to his head and threw shrapnel against his cheek. "Do not threaten the padrone," the Papal guard spoke warningly into the cell, glaring at him as he reloaded the pistol. "Or my second shot will not miss."
Shaking his head slightly to banish the ringing in his ears, the Assassin calmly lifted his gaze to meet the masked eyes. "It is as I said," he remarked assuredly. "Seems that even you think that your Captain General is not much of a threat on his own."
"Do not help me," the younger man quickly shot at his guard, earning a mumbled apology from the addressed man, and a chuckle from the bound eagle. Cesare flicked his attention back to his enemy, his aura a subdued fury. "I am only going to ask you one more time, Auditore. Tell me how the Piece of Eden works."
Ezio tilted his head, regarding him levelly. "And if I do not?"
A sudden pain tore into his ribs, and he bit out a sharp curse, flinching backwards as the Templar drove a fist into his right flank, directly into the wound he had inflicted in Monteriggioni. Ezio retreated a step, feeling the chains about his wrists and ankles slacken a little as he neared their origin at the base of the wall. An idea crossed his mind at this, though he did not allow it to show on his face, and merely turned to shadow his expression with the edge of his hood.
"Then you will be here for a very long time," the Captain General said icily, moving in closer as well as he peered into the other's narrowed, averted eyes. "I understand that birds of prey do not fare well in a cage."
"…Perhaps not," Ezio hissed out lowly, as if subdued, lacing his voice with more pain than he actually felt and pressing further back against the cold stone behind him, though only to draw his enemy in. "But you would think that would warn you not to provoke one."
Abruptly, he lashed out, kicking forward with the narrow range the fetters allowed, and managed to drive his heel into the other's ankle, unbalancing him. Stretching the chains about his arms taut to their limit, he twisted to the side and swept out the foot he had just injured, tripping the Templar completely and sending him into the floor.
The Papal guard who had been instructed not to help hesitated long enough for Ezio to fall to a crouch, reaching forward with one hand to tighten a grip about his enemy's collar and drag him in closer. However, here, he miscalculated slightly, and was only able to snarl in frustration as Cesare stumbled backwards across the floor, dodging the Assassin's fingers by mere centimeters as the chains stopped him short.
There was a space of silence, broken only by agitated breaths, before the Captain General gave a wordless growl and staggered to his feet, looking upon the eagle as if he wished to kill him with a glare. The older one slowly lowered his arm and merely offered him an unfeeling smile, watching wordlessly as the other stalked out of the cell, obviously trying to hide his newly acquired limp.
"Tighten his bonds. I don't want that bastardo to so much as breathe without difficulty," Cesare snapped to one of his bodyguards as he pushed past the iron door and towards the entrance to the tower. "Then summon Micheletto. Tell him to use any means to pry the answers from him – from his half-living corpse if necessary."
One guard hurried to obey the second of the requests, following in the Templar's wake. Ezio watched his prey slip free with a touch of disappointment, but merely straightened with seeming composure, and eyed the remaining Papal guard approaching him. The soldier's swagger was confident and unhurried as he entered the cell, the broadsword at his side jangling the satchel of keys he evidently kept next to his scabbard.
Docile now and conserving his energy, the nobleman did not resist even as the chains at his feet were shortened, his legs bound securely against the wall. However, as the man affixed the shackle about his left wrist to a hook set into the stones, Ezio shifted forward abruptly, right hand snatching out almost desperately towards the hilt of the other's weapon. A somewhat bored swat impacted against his temple, and he faltered with a grunt, his reach failing as he only managed to brush against the pouch set next to the sword.
"Settle yourself, Assassin," the guard spoke nonchalantly, obviously unthreatened despite the prisoner's success in injuring the padrone. "Consider it lucky that you will get a few hours of peace before signore Micheletto arrives."
The soldier turned his back upon him as soon as he had finished, locking the cell and leaving the immobilized eagle in the dark. Ezio kept his gaze downward until the man had paced out of his direct line of sight, before he lifted his head and idly turned the key he had slipped from the guard's satchel between his fingers. He would only need a moment to maneuver the sliver of metal into his shackle, possibly as soon as the guard shift changed, and allowed a moment of noise for him to unlock the metal binds unnoticed.
Or sooner if his friend's usual tactics were to be expected.
Thus continued the waiting, and the Assassin kept his eyes closed as he stretched out instead with his other senses, listening to the breathing of the prison's lone guard, and anticipating the approaching steps of his next visitor, which he hoped he would recognize. He gauged that the opening of the tower door, along with the time it took for the guard to confirm the person's identity, would be just enough to unlock all of his restraints.
However, this motionless delay stretched for longer than he expected, and he shifted a little uncomfortably, disliking the lack of activity. The eagle of him fluttered with impatience, though he knew by now to stifle his urge to act out blindly. He hated to admit it, but Cesare had been correct that raptors did not fare well behind bars.
The clatter of footfalls up the tower staircase brought such relief that he did not even bother to wait to determine who was approaching. He twisted his wrist, slipping the key into the lock and deftly unlatching it with a dry clack. As he worked swiftly to free the rest of his limbs, he listened to the murmured conversation just down the prison hallway, realizing that he recognized the new voice, though it was not the one he had expected.
Rotating his shoulders to ease the cramp for his awkward position, Ezio settled against the cell wall closest to the prison entrance, peering around its edge past the bars to see who was conversing with his warden. He frowned upon confirming the identity of the one who had come to visit him, none too pleased to see the familiar face.
He hesitated, but returned to his place against the wall, slipping the now-loosened bands of metal back around his wrists to feign helplessness, wary as he was of this visitor. The light steps continued until they stopped before his cell, and he did not even bother to glance in their direction, already expecting the sharp words that were to come.
"Is this out of your utter defiance of anything I tell you?" Machiavelli asked quietly, his tone tinged as usual with annoyance.
