37
Weaving my way through the crowds, I keep my eyes moving, looking for remnants of Borgia's Guards. The formerly packed dirt under my feet is wet and sloppy, thanks to the recent rains. Passing by several vendors and their customers, I search the stalls for the one I want.
Niccolo tells me that since I am well enough off with my training, I can now do missions in Roma and Firenze. Today's mission, to find and purchase a few shops in a newly liberated area, is not the first he's sent me on over the last few weeks. I doubt it will be the last, either.
My eyes finally find the shop I'm looking for and I make my way over to its boarded up entrance. I stand there and look at all the boards covering the horse stalls.
"It is terrible." A young man comes up to stand beside me. "The guards forced me to close my shop when I could no longer pay their taxes." I turn to look at him. He's taller than me by several inches with dirty shoulder-length brown hair held back in a tail. His clothing is sturdy but unwashed for some time. He has a bit of money, but clearly not enough to live by. He continues speaking, "But, I hear other sections of Roma are gaining freedom. Maybe there is hope for this one?" He asks, sounding hopeful. His left hand comes up to make a small gesture towards the burned husk that used to be a Borgia Tower.
"Indeed." I reply. "I would like to see this stall opened, again." I watch the excitement bloom on his face as I speak. "Here's the money needed." I reach into a large belt pouch and pull out a small purse that clinks with coin. "You will need to keep careful records, though. Somebody else will be by to make arrangements for the profits to be collected." Studying his face, I only see cautious hope suffuse his features. "Does that sound acceptable?"
"More than acceptable!" His tired face splits with a huge smile. "Grazie, Signorina. Grazie."
"You're welcome, Signore." Holding out the small pouch of coins, I watch him quickly take the offered pouch and tuck it into a hidden pocket. "Arrivederci." Smiling, I take my leave and move off into the crowd, once more.
My feet carry me past several more vendors until I turn down an alley for a shortcut to the next closed shop. The noise of the market fades out to a dull roar. My feet carry me around a corner and I stop dead with a gasp. My eyes fall on a white robed figure slumped on their right side on the ground, their back covered in blood. Rushing to his or her side, my fingers search for a pulse on their neck. A faint thumping touches my fingertips.
"Good." I mumble to myself; relieved that they yet live. A quick pat and search of his (no breasts) body reveals the source of his injury. A bloodied crossbow bolt nearly half way to the fletching is sticking from the left side of his back. "Not so good." I grimace unhappily. A pained grunt escapes him at my pat down. I reach up, push his hood back, and gasp once more. "Matteo?" I gently turn his head so I can see his face better, but not so much as to put pressure on the bolt. His face is drawn and pale. I pat his cheek a couple times, viciously holding back my waterworks. "Maatteoo?" My voice comes out sounding shaky to my ears. My right hand gently brushes his loose hair back from his face.
"..daniela..?" His weak voice reaches my ears. His eyes flutter and open a little.
"I'm here, Matteo." My voice still sounds shaky, but I force myself to smile when we look into each other's eyes.
"..cannot... breathe." He gasps weakly. I watch him try to swallow and feel my eyes tear up when a bit of blood drools out the corner of his mouth.
"You're bleeding. Badly. But I've got you." I say quietly while dabbing my eyes with my sleeve. Kneeling beside him, I reach out and take his left hand in both of mine. Squeezing gently garners no response. "I've got you." I whisper, once more, watching the life leave his eyes. Blinking rapidly, I slowly reach up and gently close his eyes. "Requiscat in pace, Matteo." Relinquishing my firm hold, I allow the tears to flow freely down my cheeks.