The two Auditores arrived at the house, creeping along the rooftops.
"Nice work down there." Said a voice.
"Not my best, but it's hard to make art with more materials." Replied Il Carnefice.
Giovanni spat on the roof. How could he call an execution like that 'art'?! He perched on the edge of the roof and watched Ezio leap, diving for the executioner. When he rose, the man was dead.
He heard him mumble a few words but they weren't Italian.
"Requiescat in pace (Rest in peace)." Ezio closed the man's eyes and stood, ready to fight.
Giovanni leapt down to help, slicing at every man that still stood. When they were dead, or left whimpering in fear, the Auditores bolted, racing away from the scene. They jogged back through the city, avoiding the patrolling guards.
"So, it this what it is to be an Assassin?" Giovanni asked.
Ezio shrugged.
"In a way. You kill to help people, but you must also know when to not take a life." Ezio pondered the past events. After over twenty years of hunting down Rodrigo Borgia, he had found him. But, when he retrieved the Apple of Eden, he chose to not end the man's life. He left him beaten and bloody but not dead. That was a time when he knew his life should be spared.
They slowed as they reached a man, standing with his back to them. At the sound of their arrival, he turned.
"Ezio, what a surprise to see you here." Machiavelli greeted.
"I thought you had sent for me." He frowned.
"Never. News of the villa attack has spread across the city. We were certain you were dead."
"Not yet. I am still very much alive."
"The Borgia must not discover that you escaped them. Follow me. Take care not the draw any undue attention." He said, glancing around and searching for anything of note.
"When do I ever?" Ezio chuckled.
"And who, may I ask, is your friend?" Machiavelli nodded to the young man who followed without a word.
"This is my nephew, Giovanni."
"Your nephew? I didn't know Claudia was even pregnant!"
"No, he is Federico's son. He was born in 1478, after we left to Monteriggioni, after my brothers and father died."
"Ah, and his mother?"
"In Firenze with my mother and sister. They'd been living in Florence until a few days ago."
"So you want to learn to be an Assassin, is that right?" Machiavelli addressed Giovanni from over his shoulder.
"Sì." Giovanni replied simply. There wasn't much to say about the matter.
"He'll make an excellent Assassin, mark my words." Ezio stated. "He has it in his blood."
"Anyway," Machiavelli continued, "you would be wise to purchase missing equipment. You will not live long in Roma without supplies."
"I have my blade."
"And the guards have their guns, courtesy of the Borgia. Fortunately, I can help you." He said, passing a purse of money to Ezio.
"Grazie." He thanked him and turned to shop at the blacksmith's.
"When you are in my debt, perhaps you will listen to reason."
"As soon as I hear some, I will let you know."
"Giovanni, here. Get yourself some armour. And some clothes from the tailor." Machiavelli brought out a slightly bigger purse. The young man glanced down and pulled at his shirt. With a sheepish smile, he realised he was still dressed in his night clothes from the villa.
Giovanni nodded and thanked him. If he was going to be an Assassin, he'd have to look the part.
Using Machiavelli's money, Giovanni browsed the market, buying an Assassin's attire and leather armour. He purchased some throwing knives and a wrist blade too. His copper blade was good, but the wrist blade was better for quick kills and the knives would be useful for long range.
When they were done, Ezio and Giovanni returned to Machiavelli, following him through the streets of Rome once more.
"Bene. (Okay.) Now you can survive the journey back to Firenze."
"Perhaps. But I am not going to Firenze." Ezio stated, examining the new stiletto blade that he had bought.
"Oh?" Machiavelli was surprised.
"There will be no peace until we rise up against the entire Borgia family and the Templars who serve them."
"I do not recall such brave talk at Monteriggioni." Machiavelli raised an eyebrow.
"How could I have known that they would find me so quickly? That they would kill Mario?" Ezio shook his head, remembering the terrible events. He'd told his uncle to be careful and despite his promise that he would, he was killed.
"Rodrigo surrounds himself with snakes and murderers. Even his daughter Lucrezia has been sharpened into one of his most artful weapons. But she pales in comparison to the man behind the villa attack."
Giovanni listened closely as he followed them. He knew little of the Borgia family, only that it was the Pope's family name and he knew nothing of the Templars. This was something else he'd have to learn.
"He is ambitious, ruthless and cruel beyond imagining," Machiavelli continued. "The laws of men mean nothing to him. He murdered his own brother to take power. He knows neither danger nor fatigue. Those who do not fall by his sword clamour to join his ranks. The powerful Orsini and Colonna families have been brought to kneel at his feet and the King of France stands at his side."
"Give my his name." Ezio said, taking note of every piece of information.
"Cesare, head of the Papal armies. What does he intend to do with his power? What drives the man? That I still do not know. But, Ezio, Cesare has set his sights on all of Italia, and at this rate, he will have it."
"Is that admiration I hear in your voice?" Giovanni wasn't sure whether Ezio asked it to mock Machiavelli or if it was a sincere question.
"He knows how to exercise his will. A rare virtue in the world today."
They continued on in silence and Giovanni could see suspicions rise. Ezio wasn't sure if he could trust Machiavelli, despite his help. He knew much about the Borgia, about Cesare. Almost as if he spent a good deal of time around the man.
"Should we not travel by horse? Roma is quite large." Giovanni piped up, breaking the uneasy silence.
"As Cesare's conquests in Romagna continue to succeed and the Borgia grow in power, they have taken down desirable areas of the city for themselves. We cannot use the stables here." Machiavelli responded.
"Oh, the will of the Borgia is law now?" Ezio exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
"What are you implying, Ezio?"
"Do not play dumb with me, Machiavelli."
"Do you have some kind of plan?"
"I am improvising."
Machiavelli sighed as Ezio darted off.
"Maybe you should go help. That old man's going to get himself into trouble." He said to Giovanni.
"Sì, but don't let him catch you saying that." Giovanni warned as he raced after his uncle.
Ezio and Giovanni crept through the restricted area, teeming with Borgia soldiers. By jumping from beam to beam, they took to the roof.
"Which one is the captain?" Giovanni whispered as they looked around.
"Guess."
Giovanni blinked, causing his sight to change. He could see red figures everywhere and an occasional blue blob showing where a hay bale was. Then, he saw the gold figure.
"There." He pointed and Ezio nodded in agreement. He'd probably worked it out long before.
Ezio took down one of the soldiers nearby with an aerial attack and Giovanni did the same. Alerted, guards began to swarm, but the two Auditores were more than a match. They cut their way to the captain and knowing his life was at risk, he began to flee.
"I'll hold them off, catch him!" Ezio commanded and Giovanni took off at a sprint.
The captain looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he saw the cloaked Assassin chase after him. When he was close enough, Giovanni leapt, striking down the captain with the new blade at his wrist. He climbed off the body and looked back to Ezio who tossed down the last soldier.
"Let's get back to Machiavelli." Ezio said and Giovanni followed him, kicking the bodies aside.
"Just because you kill a few guards does not mean the people will grant access to the stables." Machiavelli said when they returned.
"You are right." Ezio nodded. "We need to send a signal. Wait here."
Giovanni did as he was told and stood beside Machiavelli, watching his uncle climb up the precarious Borgia tower. They saw the distant cloaked figure ignite the tower and then threw himself off it as the fire began to cover the building. The Borgia flags were eaten by the hungry flames and the smoke billowed into the air, showing everyone nearby that the Borgia no longer had control of this area.
When they saw Ezio stride towards them, the flaming tower in the background, Machiavelli stepped forward.
"It seems the stable is now available for purchase." He scoffed, amused.
"After you." Ezio signalled to the run down building that used to house and care for the transportation throughout Rome.
Ezio approached the stables in Machiavelli's wake, examining the sign.
"If you can spare a few florins, it looks as if a renovation is in order." Machiavelli nodded in the direction of an architect, taking notes of the run down stables.
Giovanni watched the architect and the Assassin converse, and after a handful of florins, the architect called over some builders who began to get the building back into shape. Horses were brought in, now that they had a place to stay.
"Take your pick." Ezio said to Giovanni as he climbed on a tan mare.
Giovanni chose a grey stallion, much like the one he rode into Monteriggioni with his mother.
With Machiavelli leading the way, Ezio and Giovanni followed him through the streets, keeping at a steady trot. The people that wandered the streets were used to keeping out of the way of horses, but every now and again, they'd stumble back as they practically walked right into the animals.
"You excel at opening wounds, Ezio, but can you also close them?" Machiavelli called back.
"I intend to heal this sickness, not treat it's symptoms."
"Stop sparring with me."
"Fine. Let us talk openly then. Rodrigo Borgia's death would have solved nothing." Ezio stated bluntly.
"I am inclined to disagree."
"Look at this city, the centre of Borgia and Templar rule. Killing one man will not change things. We need to take away the source of their power."
"Are you suggesting we appeal to the people?"
"Maybe."
"Relying on the people is like building on the sand." Machiavelli sighed.
"You are wrong." Ezio said, kicking his horse into a faster trot so he could ride beside Machiavelli. "Our belief in humanity rests at the heart of the Assassin Brotherhood."
Giovanni peered at a ragged looking man who approached Ezio with rapid speed. Before he could cry out, the thief had swiped his purse and was racing away.
"He must be from your inner circle." Machiavelli laughed. "Go. Get back what he has stolen."
Sighing, Ezio dismounted, almost casually and began to chase down the thief.
"I will wait at the Campidoglio (Capitoline Hill). I am meeting a contact there." Machiavelli called after him.
As Ezio disappeared, shouting 'give me back my money', Machiavelli continued, turning to Giovanni.
"Do you know much about the Borgia?" He asked.
Giovanni shook head.
"The Templars?"
"No."
"The Apple of Eden?"
"The what?"
Machiavelli laughed. "It seems there is much for you to learn."
As they rode, Machiavelli explained about the Templars, the Borgia control and the Apple of Eden which Ezio had retrieved not long ago, from Rodrigo Borgia himself.
"He spared his life, the moron." Machiavelli shook his head.
"Maybe he was right to do so. There's not much he can do by killing him, Cesare would still be there and would probably be even more angry if Rodrigo Borgia had died by Ezio's hand."
"You have much faith in your uncle, I admire that." Machiavelli smiled. "You certainly do have the makings of an excellent Assassin."
They dismounted their horses as they reached the destination. Turning, they saw Ezio approach.
"Did you liberate your money from our friend?" Machiavelli mocked.
"I did."
"A small victory."
"They add up. And in time, with work, we'll have a few dozen more." Ezio insisted.
"And in time, Cesare's gaze will return to us and we'll be broken again." Machiavelli retaliated. Then he sighed and looked around the area. "Now, where is my contact, Vinicio? He should have already intercepted the letter. Follow me."
They climbed back on the horses to go in search of Machiavelli's contact, Vinicio, heading towards the Colosseum that stood in the distance. Over many years it had slowly crumbled to only a weakened shell of what it once was. It must have been the centre piece of Rome hundreds of years ago, the most majestic structure across the city. Giovanni could almost imagine the roar of the crowd as they flocked to whatever event that took place, completely enthralled. But thoughts of the past would have to wait for now. There were other things to attend to.