The water was cold, a welcomed reprieve from the heat of the coals that had been employed only moments ago so it seemed. The world around Anna darker than she last remembered as she cast her eyes skyward, at least the screeching of Borgia and his brutes was muffled down here in the depths of the chamber. Beat by beat, she could feel her heart as it began to slow within her chest, a comfort as she felt her eyes drift closed. The hours felt like days, the days felt like years as night in and night out it was the same routine; the rack followed by an hour or so of time spent in and out of the water tank before she would placed within the steel embrace of the iron maiden to endure several hours of pain as she was forced to stand. Her mind took her back to the days of the first time she had been in the grasp of the Cardinal, back to the days where she remembered she had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and drift off in the arms of the angels she would see when death hovered ever so close.
Time was indeed a fickle master, one that changed a frightened little girl into a woman scarred but not afraid to face the dangers that she faced once more. The days she had spent in solitude had given her time to think, to contemplate on life and on what she had done. Yes fear gripped her heart, yes there had been moments she wanted to do nothing more than to give up but how could she? She had already betrayed the Order when she shed the blood of an innocent priest on holy ground, shamed her father in death and those she had once sworn an oath to serve with everything she had. She was too strong of a warrior, too strong of an Assassin to let the serpent drown her in eternal darkness. She refused to give the fat bastard who ravaged her every morning the satisfaction he would have in the knowledge that he had broken one more of her kind into submission. Anna still had some chance for reconciliation, for atonement of what she had done and regardless of how much pain she had to endure, how many levels of hell she had to walk through, she would do it.
While the Fates may have seemed to do little but play a tune with the string that was her life, Time was on her side.
The rope tightened, the tension in her lungs had reached its climax as she was hoisted up out of the water. Her eyes fluttered open as she came face to face with a flustered Borgia, his chubby cheeks redder than the blood that sat chilled in her veins, a sadistic smile on her lips as he snorted.
"What are you smiling about?" Rodrigo snarled.
Anna spit the water she had been holding in her mouth towards him, dousing his face in a shower of saliva ridden fluid before she inhaled sharply, "I thought maybe you needed a bath as much as I do, so I figured I would help."
"You insolent little puttana," Rodrigo snapped, "I grow tired of your little games." She had done little but offer off handed remarks about him and about the Church since he first started to try to break her. Add to the fact that his aid now sat in a ditch behind the tower as he decayed and that the Turk had eluded capture, he was very much at his rope's end. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around that beautiful little neck of her's and choke the life out of her but that would do him no good. Perhaps now was the time to utilize one more strategy against the girl. "Cut her down, and bring her to the chamber," he said coolly. "Brother Anthony" he said as he turned to the balding priest that had replaced the German, "fetch me the whore, perhaps it is time that she sympathize with her offspring on a far more...deeper level."
"Figlio di una cagna," Anna snarled, her heart pounding in her chest, "leave her out of this!" The guard did as he was commanded as he pulled her to the platform above the tank. There, he unhooked her from the rope and allowed two other black clad priests to step in and sweep her off to the main chamber where she was then lashed to a chair, her mother brought into the chamber mere moments after.
Elizabeth smiled, relieved to see Anna alive, "It's about time," she said, "I was begin'n ta think you'd all but forgotten about a poor ol' woman."
"Borgia, I swear," Anna hissed, "with God as my witness I will kill you! I will sever your head and hang your entrails from the top of this tower!"
Brother Anthony placed Elizabeth on the rack that Anna had been strapped to earlier before he was instructed to not pull the wheel which would tighten the device. Borgia stepped forward, "Let us try this again, girl," he said as he slipped off his right glove and replaced it with a glove which contained metal plates over the finger knuckles and top of his hand, "Where is that stronzo of a boy and the sorry excuse for a mentor you both have ties to?"
"Fuck you, fuck every last one of you," Anna snarled as the tears pooled in her eyes, "I will kill you!"
"Wrong answer," Rodrigo said as he reared back and landed a solid blow to Elizabeth's abdomen with a resounding thud. "Where are they?"
Anna thrashed in her chair as her mother cringed, "Don't tell 'em nothin' girl!" she gasped before looking to the Cardinal, "Is that the best ya got, son? I've known women who hit harder than you!"
Rodrigo reared back once more, this time landing an even harder blow slightly higher than the last, high enough to catch one of Elizabeth's ribs and hard enough that everyone heard the crack as bone shattered and she gasped for air. Anna sobbed, "Mother, I'm...I'm sorry."
As sure as she breathed, Anna knew that if allowed to continue his task, her mother would be beaten to a bloody and shattered shadow of her former self. Time was no longer on her side, so it seemed as she watched her mother fight to remain strong as the Cardinal delivered blow after blow. Where was he? Where were Ezio and his uncle? God, please if you can hear me...protect us...
One, two, three. Three parts of this to one of that, one wrong move or twitch could be the end of Zaim and the two men who slept soundly outside. The recipes were old, some two hundred years old in fact as he slowly poured the powdered mixture into the last clay container he had in his possession. It was a drastic move, a last ditch effort in planning on his part to ensure some form of success. I'll be damned if that little fat Cardinal is going to escape so easily this time, he thought as he dipped the wick in a bit of lamp oil before slipping it through the hole in the cork once he had ensured the object was secured in between his knees. "There," he purred as he carefully placed the cork inside of the opening, "Téleia!" The contraption was no bigger than a stein, if half the size of one but packed enough of a punch that if he placed it within the powder stores the idiot's men had hidden behind the tower near the rocks for the two pointless cannons he had, the tower and half the cliff face above the structure would fall.
Once secured in a black satchel to his person he stepped outside of his tent. The morning air chilled him to the bone; clouds choked what few rays of sun dared to break through their grasp. The sky glowed above them in one of the deepest hues of red he had seen since the start of the Ottoman onslaught of Venetian trade routes in the Mediterranean, a sure sign of perhaps what lay ahead of them as they continued the last hundred or so meters to the blind side of the tower. Zaim cast his eyes to the sky that began to tear, crystal drops falling to the ground as the wind sobbed gently around where he and the Assassins had slept. Allah, if you can hear me, I pray of you now. Protect us from the hand of the Dark One. Send your servants to take their watch of the girl. If she be alive, protect her. If she nears death, bring her comfort and take her away from her suffering with haste. If she be gone, I pray you guide my hand so justice is served. Praise be to you...praise be to you. His prayer was silent, unspoken as he closed his eyes, his inhalation deep of the brisk morning air.
"Alright princess," Zaim said as he kicked the boots of the boy who slept soundly beneath the shadow of a small shrub. "We've got a short distance to make and the quicker I can get the girl out, the sooner I'll be rid of the headache that is you," he smirked.
Ezio sighed and groaned as he fought to the shake the sleep off. He was sore, stiff, cold and was severely missing his bed back at the villa at this point in time. "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you and the girl are related," he growled, "because you both have the same damned disposition in the morning."
"I'll take that as a compliment, then boy," Zaim smirked, "because she's got more balls than you do."
Mario grunted as he rolled over, "I swear with God as my witness if I have to hear any more brainless banter between you both I will run you through," he growled as he shifted to a sitting position slowly. "Where the hell is the sun?" he snarled beneath his breath.
"Good morning to you too," Zaim said as he walked to his mare, digging around in one of the saddle bags he had slung over her flanks. Where the hell was it? He knew the little shit had done as he requested with no trouble at all...
Mario rolled his eyes, "So what's the plan, maestro?"
"Well, old man, you're job is simple," he said as his hand finally found what he had been looking for, the item he had managed to lift off of a patrol while the other two idiots slept like rocks. "You get to go up the hill a bit, there's a carriage waiting. That's our ticket out of this God forsaken ravine, as for you boy..." Zaim brandished a set of shackles, "You're the sacrificial lamb."
Ezio's eyes narrowed, "What the hell...? Have you lost your damned mind?"
Mario folded his arms across his chest, "Zaim, I am beginning to like you."
Ezio spun, "What?You've got to be shitting me! Are you listening to yourself?"
"I am, and I've been listening to your non-stop complaining for the last two days," Mario sighed. "I've heard not a damned thing constructive leave your lips and trust me, when we get back to the Villa I intend to deal with that attitude of yours. For now, however, let's focus on getting the girl and her mother out of that shithole and back with us safely."
Zaim chuckled as he advanced Ezio, "Give me your wrists boy," he said. He watched Ezio tense as he grumbled something unintelligible, "Relax, Borgia shackles are shoddily made, thus making them easy to get out of," he said. "But just in case," with a quick flourish he slipped the key to the shackles into the confines of the boy's bracers. "Now, while your mentor fetches our ride, I want you to be the good fake prisoner. I'll rough you up a bit, and then just follow my lead."
"And what, pray tell, will be my signal for getting out of these damned things?" Ezio asked as he lofted a brow, annoyed that he had some sense of admiration for the Guard's hair brained scheme.
Zaim grinned beneath the confines of his veil, "You seriously think I thought all of this through? Boy, what part of I-make-this-shite-up-as-I-go do you not understand?" he laughed as he slipped the shackles on the boy's wrists.
Ezio sighed, "I was afraid you'd say that," he said before wincing as the shackles caught him wrong, "Ow, hey!" he snapped.
"I only said I'd call a truce, boy, at least until the girl is in our possession and your mentor here can hold up his end of the bargain," Zaim purred. "I never said I would consider us friends, consider this a reminder."
Mario took note of the excess bag that hung from the Turk's waist, "What is that?"
Zaim smirked, "Insurance, old man. A bit of Arabic magic that will surely do the job if we should fail."
The plan was simple enough; Zaim would play off of the boy's already strong sense of distaste for him as he used him as bait to lure the Cardinal into his trap. He'd pitch the boy's capture as a gift of truce between him and the fat man, though he was already counting on the moron not falling that easily into his ploy so he was counting on Plan B to work. Plan B was to use the element of surprise to throw the fat man off of his scent, having given the boy the key to the shackles...he was just hoping the boy would have the wherewithal to keep the dogs that were bound to show up off of him long enough to swoop in, grab the girl, and run.
Then there was Plan Z...but that one...would more than likely get them all killed...
This is it. A different man once stood on the road to the west of the tower, a man who wore the colors of the Papacy proudly some five years ago. Now, he shifted uncomfortably beneath the layers of thick padding that sat atop a crimson and black striped doublet and beneath heavy plate armor, iron in color and adorned in intricate vine designs on each individual piece. The chest plate bore the emblem of Pope Sixtus, the same snake he had once shown nothing but deep adoration for. His helmet, Spanish in design complete with a black horse hair crest, sat heavy on his head as the steel face mask that once intimidated his foes threatened to smother him. A sigh escaped his lips. He had been known as Wilhelm von Ingraham, lieutenant general of the Papal Army and once a protector of the Holy See, at least that was who he was before the girl and her family happened.
As he closed his eyes, he watched in his mind's eye the events that transpired that eve take place once more. Giovanni Auditore, along with his brother Mario and a small contingent of Mario's mercenario infiltrated the tower utilizing a prison transport tunnel that had been employed to the east within the mountainside against which the infernal thing sat still. He had been posted among the cells of the third floor at the time; the girl had worn on him, so much so that it was him and only him that would remove her from the torture chamber. He would scoop her into his massive arms, careful to not let her head lull too far back after she had passed out from sheer exhaustion. For days he had done this, and every day he saw the truth that had lain within the lie that had been woven oh so intricately by the same man who he knew had the girl and her mother in his clutch once more.
The fight had been a brutal one and when Mario and his brother reached the cells, it was Wilhelm that stepped forward and gladly turned the keys over to the two Assassins. When Mario had inquired why he had been so quick to turn, he told the elder man that he had seen the lie which he had sworn to uphold and could do it no longer. He knew the consequences of his actions and those were consequences he was glad to suffer so long as he knew the precious little girl would be safe and sound. It was to his arms he once more committed her as the other men freed her mother and father. He helped the girl's father reclaim his weaponry and watched in awe as he expertly wielded both blades, against the wounds that had been inflicted against him.
Wilhelm ran as fast and hard as he could with the girl out of the tower before placing her on Giovanni's horse before he turned and raced back into the fray to aid the duel wielder. Though to his dismay he arrived a few moments too late, the man falling to the sword of the Cardinal before the fat little bastard escaped. He turned, being called by Mario to continue his offer of support to get them to safety and from that day on he had never looked back. Yes, that was many years ago.
Philippe was careful as he advanced the man who stood at the edge of the road before casting his gaze down into the ravine, the guard captain's helmet beneath his left arm, "Do you think the Turk knows of this, Agostino?"
Yes, that was his name now. Agostino Lombardi, part of the new identity he had been so given by the man he now swore his life to. "Knowing the commandante, hell no the man doesn't know," he said as he turned and looked at Philippe, "and I can tell you this much. That bastardi in his viper's nest will not slither away from me as quickly as he did last time."
Philippe nodded, he knew the story of how his father, the only blonde haired and blue eyed mercenary Mario had in his command, had come to acquire his name. "Do you think the girl is alive?" he asked.
Agostino laughed, "Boy, that girl's got more fight than a rabid fox in her. I can guarantee she's still alive," he said. Though God knows for how much longer, he thought to himself.
Mario panted heavily as he made the trek up the hillside to the roads that sat some thirty or so meters above where they had made camp. "When this is all said and done," he huffed, "I'm telling Anetta to stop making so many damned pastries." The Turk had outdone himself this time, having picked the steepest incline he could find knowing full well that Mario would be unable to take the walk.
"But why, commandante," Agostino said from behind the black and gold carriage that he had seen the Turk arrive with some hours before, "I rather enjoy that woman's croissants."
"It's about bloody time you showed up," Mario cried.
"Mi dispiace, my captain," Agostino said.
"I see you got my message," Mario smiled as he admired the way the captain's uniform looked on the man's son. Several days ago, before he and his nephew were met by Zaim, he had encountered a few patrols on the roads they now stood on. With Ezio's help, the two of them managed to confiscate some eight uniforms, enough to clothe a small enough detachment of his men to cover their backs should the Turk turn on them.
"Si, we did. Molto grazie, commandante," Agostino said as he bowed slightly out of respect.
Mario sighed, "Well at least the Turk has held up his end of the bargain thus far," he said as he advanced the carriage. "You don't by any chance have any of my private reserve on you by perchance, Captain?" he said, unable to hide the hope in his voice.
Agostino lofted a brow as he removed his helmet, "I do not know what you are talking about", he said.
"Like hell you don't, your breath tells otherwise," Mario said, "but for now I can overlook your indiscretion. That Turkish bastardo and Ezio have done little but to get on my nerves these last few days," Mario growled. "Here, give me your flask," he snapped.
Agostino chuckled as he removed the small metal container from the leather case on his belt before he obliged the older man, "That bad?"
"Worse than having to listen to Philippe play the cat on that God thing you call a lute," Mario grunted as he took a long, welcomed draw from Agostino's flask. The liquid was warm, warmer than the brisk air that wrapped itself around him as he smiled contently and place the flask in the waiting hand of the captain. "Now that was much needed," he purred.
"What is the plan Maestro?" Agostino said as he placed the flask once more on his hip.
"Zaim is going to use Ezio as bait in an attempt to lure Rodrigo out of his hole," Mario started, "where are we on sweeping the general vicinity of patrols?"
"The Turk did most of the work for us this morning," Philippe piped up, "we already have men in place of the archers on the roof, now all that needs to be done is for us to take our places near the door."
"Bene, then let's get this thing down to the tower before our Turkish friend arrives," Mario smiled slyly, "We'll see who has outwitted who."
"Move it," Zaim snapped as he shoved Ezio unceremoniously toward the main entrance to the tower only to be stopped by the latest change of guard. In front of them stood a four guard detachment with two pikeman, a strangely dressed brute wearing the black and red regalia of the Pope with a large sword at his side, and a black and crimson clad captain.
"So the dog returns to his master vith his tail tucked in between his legs," the Papal Guard grunted from beneath his armor.
"Il Cardinale gave us strict orders to make sure you were either detained or killed," the captain said.
Ezio lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he caught the pitch change in the captain's voice. Mache? Did this idiot just hit puberty? he thought as he swore he caught a distinct squeak in the man's pitch.
The brute leaned closer to Ezio and grunted, "Hey...I know zis one. He's that trouble maker the boss's been hunting after."
Ezio lofted a brow; the brute reeked of his Uncle's private stash of Italian whiskey. What in the hell? Slowly he began to add the equation up in his mind as his eyes lifted skyward to where the three archers stood, leaning over the railing as they waved down towards where he stood. "What the..." he said, "Ag...Agostino?"
The brute chuckled from beneath his helmet, "Da, ein and zah same boy," Agostino said.
Zaim hissed, eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange in front of him, "What the hell is this? I do not appreciate being left out of the loop."
"The answer is simple, Zaim," Mario said, appearing from around the edge of the building, "As you said, insurance."
"Insurance? For what?" Zaim snapped, "We had an agreement! I do not take kindly to men who turn so quickly on another after they have given their word."
"Indeed we did and we still do, my boy, but did you honestly think I'd let a man I barely know utilize the one last hope for my bloodline as bait?" Mario smirked.
Zaim rolled his eyes, "Are you off your rocker, old man? Your men are the poorest excuse for guards I've had the displeasure of killing myself, and believe me I've dispatched more than my fair share. They're clumsy, awkward, and be damned if they can say anything without sounding stupid!" he snapped.
Agostino snarled, "Halt den Mund, Bauer," he snapped. "I know zese voods and zis tover like das hairs on mine arsch," he snarled before he coughed and shook his head to clear it from the memory of what he had been the day he met Mario and Giovanni the first time they had come to rescue the girl. "This was my post many years ago," he purred, his Italian accent once more returning to his words.
It was at that time that Philippe took note of a strange object which hung from the black belt the Turk wore. It was nothing of great notice, just some black bag that had been poorly attached to the other man's belt. He waited to see if the other man would take note of his attentive stare as he watched him curiously.
Zaim lofted a brow, taken aback by the mercenary brute's confession. "Well then, old man," he said before he met Mario's gaze, "I applaud you, seems you're an excellent card player if you've managed to keep this ace up your sleeve without my knowledge."
Mario laughed, "So I've been told boy and perhaps I will show you how I do it but for now this gets us nowhere," he said. As he readied his sword, the smile vanished from his face, "My student is somewhere inside of this tower and God knows how much longer she can hold out. She is strong, but not this strong," he said softly.
Zaim nodded, "Indeed. You heard the man," he said before prodding a rather confused Ezio ahead of him. "Good, that dazed look will work to our advantage," he smirked. "Captain, after you," he said as he nodded to Agostino who returned the gesture and began to lead them down the hallway that led into the man made cavern that made up the torture cells and chambers.
Zaim never felt the sleight of hand Philippe used to lift the parcel off of his person. Once the group had vanished well behind him, Mario stepped forward. "Most interesting," the elder man whispered after the younger mercenary opened the parcel. Inside of the bag sat an object, a clay pot of sorts with what looked like a cork inside of the thing.
"Commandante? What is this thing?" Philippe said as he turned the object over in his hand, head titled to the left as he studied it.
Mario thought for a moment before his eyes widened, "Boy, be careful with that!" Quickly, he snatched the object from the younger man, "This thing could very well spell the death of us all if you're idiot enough to drop it!"
"Why did he have it?" Philippe asked.
Mario paused before a sly smile touched his lips, "There's a powder store behind this tower. By God that man is smart." He handed the pot back to Philippe, "Boy, take this and stand at the ready to light this fuse but run as fast and as hard as you can at the first sign of trouble!"
"The hallways were dark, save for what little light the torches offered. The air was heavy, the stench of decaying iron and bones alike assaulting their noses as exhausted screams of heart wrenching agony began to echo louder and louder with every step they took.
"Steel yourself, boy," Zaim whispered, "the evils inside of this god forsaken place is the stuff nightmares are made of."
Ezio swallowed hard, each step harder than the last to take as he followed Agostino. This place, it reeked of death, of fear and agony. Mio Dio Anna, he thought, heart heavy as he heard screams filter down the hallway some Anna's others more certainly her mother's. No wonder why she was so afraid to trust, to allow anyone inside of her thoughts. The sheer fact she allowed him to bed her amazed him now as it became clearer why she was the way she was.
"Ve are here," Agostino growled as he knocked on the door, jolting Ezio from his thoughts.
"I told you, idiots, I was not to be disturbed," Rodrigo snapped through the door.
"Verzeih mir, Kardinal. But it seemz das assassin has returned vith a...peace offering," Agostino said.
The door creaked open, as Agostino stepped through the group were met by the sight of seven Papal Guards standing sentient over the room, surrounding Rodrigo and the remaining black clad priests. Elizabeth lay outstretched on the rack while Anna was secured to a chair, forced to watch as the Cardinal beat her mother near death.
Rodrigo pivoted on his foot, his eyes coming to a halt on the boy and the Guard who had killed his servant. "So the Prodigal son returns," he purred, smiling, "and with a gift?"
Zaim pushed Ezio further into the room, "Look who I found snooping around the area. I figured why the hell not, might as well see if he's worth anything."
"Always the opportunist," Rodrigo said, "I am impressed."
"Whatever, look," Zaim said, "Here's the brat you whined about..."
Anna's heart stopped as the door opened, "Ezio?" she said as she watched the Turk slip into the room with the boy in tow. No, no, no...This can't be, she thought. "Ezio, no..." she whispered, her shoulders sunk further, tears falling down her cheeks. Why had he not listened to her? Why had he allowed himself to be captured? "You idiot..." she said. She knew he would suffer a far worse fate than either she or her mother ever would, a thought that chilled her to the core as for the moment life seemed a whole lot darker without him there.
It was in that moment of clarity she realized that it was well passed the time of ignoring what her heart begged her to admit all along since he had first reached out to her, since he first kissed her in the church. "Ezio," she said softly as she met his gaze.
"It's been too long, boy," Rodrigo said, "tell me...what do you think of her now?"
Ezio's heart leapt into his throat at the sheer sight of her and instinctively he yanked hard against the chain that held him to his would be captor. She was bloodied, bruised, and soaked to the core. She looked as if she had not slept in days. As her eyes met his, the exchange was unspoken; the way his name fell from her lips said it all. His eyes narrowed as he reluctantly turned from Anna and met eyes with the Spanish bastardi who had taken so much from him, "Does your degeneracy know no bounds!" he snarled.
"Not when it comes to what's important to you, boy," he said smugly.
Zaim held tighter to the chain, "Not so fast, Cardinal. Why not trade the boy for the girl, hm? I can take her off your hands, you have what you were looking for and...I'll even do you the honor of getting out of Italy."
Rodrigo lofted a brow, his keen eyes studying the chest insignia on the brute who had escorted Zaim and the boy into the chambers. The colors...were wrong. With a quick flick of his wrist the door slammed shut behind the three of them, closed by one of the guards who stood closest to it.
Zaim hissed, "What is the meaning of this?" Somehow, in some way, he knew the mercenaries at Mario's beck and call would screw things up.
"Did you think I'd fall for this little trick of yours, Turk?" Rodrigo said matter-of-factly, "I would have expected more from you, truly. We haven't used those colors for the insignias in five years."
Zaim sighed as he let go of the chain that bound him to Ezio, the boy having already made short work of the shackles that contained him. The Turk smiled as he drew his blade, "Then gentlemen, shall we dance?" As he spun his blade in his hand, he took the first swing at one of the seven heavily armored guards, "Get the girl, the mercenary and I can handle this!"
Two of the four priests stood in front of Anna while the other two took places in front of Elizabeth who was trying her best to pick the locks which held her in place, the pick provided by the skeleton in her cell. Each man stood taller than Ezio, closer to Agostino in height, each with a weapon designed for bashing more than for the purpose of a fair fight. Ezio spun to the left as the first man came down with his blade, both of his wrists coming out within his hidden blades extended as he landed a solid killing blow to the man's back as both blades hit their mark through his heart.
"Ezio! Behind you!" Anna cried as she fought to wriggle her wrists free of the ropes that bound her arms behind her.
Ezio spun and dropped, quickly utilizing one of Anna's moves as he used the momentum of his spin to sweep his left leg out and catch the other priest by surprise, sending the man to the ground.
Anna was about to say something when she felt the gloved hands of Borgia wrap around her neck, her eyes going wide as she gasped for air.
"Not this time, girl," Borgia hissed in her ear.
Just as she felt the familiar sensation of oxygen deprivation, his voice purred behind them. "Not so fast, fat man," Zaim said as Mario and his small detachment of men burst in through the door to join in the fray.
"Do it and she dies, Turk," Borgia said as he felt the kiss of cold steel against his neck.
"By the time she draws her last breath, I would've killed you three times over," Zaim said as he reared back only to feel the ground shutter beneath him as the tower shook and groaned above.
The room fell still as a steady grumbling was heard followed by the sound of several explosions and stones bouncing off of the outside of the tower. Zaim patted himself down only to find the parcel he had started out with this morning had vanished, "Shit," he snapped.
"Men, to me!" Borgia said as the tower shuttered once more, a beam shaking loose above his head and crashing down on the apparatus that contained Elizabeth. He quickly made for a side tunnel that would take him away from the fight and to the safety of his carriage.
"Mother...no!" Anna screamed as Zaim cut her bonds loose. She lurched forward as Agostino spun and lifted the beam from her mother before cutting the woman's chains free of her. Gently he lifted her and made for the door that now sat ajar as the tower began to collapse around them.
"Everyone! Out now!" Zaim cried. "Boy, you get the girl," he said as he spun his blade in his hand and darted for the opening he had seen the Cardinal take.
"Zaim! Where are you going?" Ezio called above the chaos.
"To rid ourselves of the fat man once and for all, boy, now go!" Zaim said as he vanished down the hall where Borgia had disappeared only moments before.
The race to the outer-most door was a treacherous one as Ezio spun and dodged falling masonry. Once outside, the group were met by a waiting Philippe and the carriage the Turk had stolen for their use. There was little time to heave a sigh of relief as the entire hillside was quickly deteriorating, the powder store far larger than anyone had anticipated. Quickly Anna and her mother were placed inside the carriage joined by Agostino and Mario as the remaining mercenaries hopped on the first horses they found. Ezio took to the driver's seat of the carriage, took the reins from Philippe's hands and piloted the carriage away from the landslide as the tower vanished beneath tons of stone and rubble.
To the fans,
Many apologies for it taking me oh so long to get an update on this story. To those who continue to pledge their attention to this tale, my deepest gratitude for digging through the archives to find me! I am constantly amazed and humbled as every week several more people join us on this journey!
So I definitely want your input on things. Did the ending feel rushed? Was it suitable? You decide and don't hesitate to be honest!
On another note, this is the "season finale" of sorts as we close the introduction to Anna and the colorful cast that have introduced themselves to this story. You all have played a critical role in the development of what has turned out to be a some near 200 page epic if you were to print it on paper (trust me, I did it). Stay tuned for the continuation of the saga. No...the title won't change, I promise :-)
Riguardi migliori, vostri,
Nastassia