She had intended to tiptoe quietly into the Hideout, acquire the rest of her weapons and get out. She was still not sure whether or not she was intending to leave Roma for good or not. All she wanted was to not be in the Hideout for a little while, so she had chosen the time when the Assassins would be out recruiting new ones and training them.
She had barely stepped in and closed the door behind her when she heard a shuffle of footsteps coming towards her.
"Ah, there you are." La Volpe said. "You haven't been attending any of the meetings nor doing any of the contracts."
Claudia turned towards the stairs and started to go up them when La Volpe called her.
"Look, I know you're grieving about the…whatever relationship you and Niccolò had, but this cannot come at the cost of your Assassin duties." His tone was dripping with smugness. She supposed he must be quite pleased with himself for proving that Machiavelli was a traitor and a cheater.
Claudia felt a bitter liquid rise up her throat and she desperately wanted to turn and spew her venom on him. The things she would tell him….that feeling sent tingles all over her nerves; to just scream curses at him. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of riling her up. With her hand on the side wall, she turned and glared at him.
"You needn't worry about me, Gilberto." She said angrily. "I know very well what my duties are." She then ran up the stairs, went to her room and slammed the door.
She made her way to her bed and sat down, breathing heavily. Her hands were trembling from the waves of anger threatening to burst inside her. The nerve of that man! If only….if only Machiavelli had been proven innocent.
Claudia started to cry then and angrily wiped her tears. "No. I will not cry. I won't!" she said sternly to herself, but her tears flowed anyway. It wasn't fair. Machiavelli wasn't supposed to be with Marietta and he wasn't supposed to betray the Order.
Claudia got up and walked to the windows, clutching at the mille-fleur curtains and looked down at the waters. Despite everything she had seen and happened, there was absolutely no way she could convince her heart that Machiavelli was a traitor. He may have been spending time with Marietta, but he couldn't have joined forces with Cesare and slaughtered the recruits.
No, it was someone else, but who?
A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts and she wiped her tears. If it was La Volpe, she wouldn't stop herself this time from screaming at him as he taunted her.
"Claudia?" It was Borso, poking his head out. "I was looking for you."
Taking a deep breath, she turned around. "And why is that?" Her voice was perhaps a bit to curt for he frowned deeply.
"I have information of a Templar agent near the outskirts of the city." He said, unrolling a parchment. "It says here that it would benefit us to eliminate him."
Claudia crossed her arms and then a thought occurred to her. While Machiavelli was here, he had been the one to write up the contract missions and send in any other information he had come across.
She walked over to Borso and tore the parchment from his grasp. She scanned the document and then her hands traced the last line of the page where Machiavelli had signed. This was sent before he had been branded a traitor.
She took the paper with her and sat down on her bed.
"What is it?" Borso asked.
Claudia looked down at the paper. "It's so hard to believe he could be a traitor. He did this." She handed him the document back. "If he truly wanted to betray us, then why hand us this information."
"Perhaps…"
"No, it cannot be a trap. I've been to his assigned missions before." Claudia said.
Borso came over to her. "Are you saying that you believe that Machiavelli is not a traitor?"
"I'm saying exactly that." Claudia said. "I cannot imagine him with the Templars."
Borso took a deep breath. "To tell the truth, I found it odd that Ser Machiavelli would be the traitor in our midst. I don't know much about that man, but…"
"I do." Claudia said. "He didn't do it. I don't know why I believe that, but I just do."
Borso frowned. "If it's not him, then that also means that there still is someone among us who is a traitor."
Claudia looked up at him. "Then I'll have to find out who he is."
*/*/*/*/*
They always had to run. The minute she had neared the baths, the woman, dressed in an olive green cloak and brown leather boots, saw her and froze with the dagger over her newest victim. In the seconds that passed, Claudia could see the woman's keen grey eyes take in her black Assassin robes and silver belt and then in a blink of an eye, she had taken off.
"Oh no you don't." Claudia muttered under her breath and took after her. The woman was fast as she scaled the walls and hopped over obstacles. Claudia was breathless by the time she had closed in on her. She was about to throw a knife at her, when her foot slipped and she let out a cry. Her hands quickly grabbed the ledge and hauled herself up.
This was too close. If she had fallen, she would have broken her legs and worse, she would have lost her baby. Doubts clouded her mind and for a whole minute, she just stood on top of a pillar, unable to move an inch.
Her baby! What was she doing chasing after Templar agents? What exactly were women supposed to do and not supposed to do while they were pregnant?
"Claudia!" Borso called. "She's getting away!"
She snapped out of her thoughts and raised her arm that had a hidden gun in the bracers. She took aim and pulled on the trigger.
A loud booming sound echoed all around and the woman crumbled down on the ground. A pool of blood quickly formed beneath her and before Claudia could reach her, guards from the nearby areas, ran towards her.
"Aspetta!" one of them shouted.
Without waiting to catch her breath, Claudia turned on her heels and fled, jumping over pillars and climbing walls, until she was outside the baths.
"Come on!" Borso called. He had readied the horses and waiting for her.
Claudia ran to him and Borso grabbed her by the waist and hauled her over and then as the guards neared with their swords raised, he got on behind her and rode away.
"That was close!" he said.
"They're still following us." Claudia said, turning her head.
Borso raced his horse faster and soon, they had managed to keep a large distance between them and the guards.
"And now I can say it. That was close." Borso said and let out a whistle.
"Si." Claudia said. "Could we stop….I feel a bit queasy." She said. Her stomach felt oddly knotted and clenching as if she were about to throw up.
"There's an inn up ahead." He replied. "We'll stop there."
Claudia put a hand on her mouth, and tried to keep down her nausea. Twenty minutes later, they reached the inn and Borso tugged on the reins. "Here let me help you." He said, getting down and raising his hands.
But Claudia jumped the other side and ran towards the edge of a cliff, knelt down and vomited. She wiped her mouth afterwards and then got up, dusting her knees, hoping that Borso wouldn't ask her uncomfortable questions.
"Are you not feeling well?" he asked when she walked over to him.
"I was just….I had eaten something bad last night. The meat….was…." Claudia felt her nausea returning and swallowed. Her throat felt dry. "I need something to drink." She said and walked past him to enter the inn.
Thankfully it wasn't La Volpe's inn. The last thing she needed was to be anywhere around THAT man.
Borso led her to an empty table near the windows and sat down. "Two wines." He called.
When they were served, Claudia picked up the mug the wine was served in and was about to pass the liquid between her lips when she stopped. Was she supposed to drink wine while she was pregnant? Was it safe for the baby?
Claudia put down her mug. She should have asked the Doctor, because asking anyone else; especially her Mother wasn't such a good idea.
"Anything wrong?" Borso asked, taking a swig from his mug. "It's probably not that good and they serve it in mugs. You must not be used to all this. A refined woman like you must have had the really good wines."
"Um, that isn't it. I just don't feel like it." Claudia lied and pushed the mug away.
"Perhaps you would like something to eat instead?"
Claudia crossed her arms on the table and looked around her. The other customers were all men, already inebriated and talking loudly amongst themselves. She saw a group of gruff looking men sitting in the corner and sharing lewd stories of their wives.
No one was eating and she couldn't imagine what food such a place would serve. Now that she was pregnant, she would have to be careful about what she put in herself; that much she knew.
"I just want to go back." She had meant to say home, but did she really have a home anymore. All she had was the Hideout.
Borso gulped down his wine and put the mug with a thud on the table. "That was good." He said wiping his mouth. "You should try it."
"You can have mine." She passed her mug to him and Borso took it willingly.
"That was a good kill." He said.
Claudia tapped her foot restlessly. She wanted to leave, but also not appear rude to Borso. He was trying to be her friend, but what he didn't understand was that she didn't want to be around people anymore if all they ever going to do was hurt her.
"Hmm." She said, hoping he would get the hint.
"You must teach me how to climb like that. Such skill." Borso took another swig. He pushed up his headband and wiped the sweat on his forehead.
The door opened behind her and more customers came in. Claudia leaned back on her chair as Borso ordered another drink. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"
Claudia shook her head and wondered if she should just make some excuse and walk out. Besides, she didn't have to give Borso company. She could leave whenever she wanted.
She was about to do just that, when the door opened again and Machiavelli walked in. Uttering a gasp, she sat back down and put her head down. What was he doing here?
He appeared to look angry and walked to an empty table with his head bowed. Claudia thought that she didn't need to cover her face for he had barely noticed anyone around him. He sat down and clasped his hands in front of him, glaring at the table in front of him.
The innkeeper walked over to him and put his arm around his shoulders and started talking. Claudia moved to the side as Machiavelli looked up to talk and then the innkeeper took his place across from him.
"What?" Borso asked and then turned around. "Oh." He said.
Claudia shifted to the side again and Borso moved his chair in front of her, so that she was now hidden from his view.
"We could leave." He said kindly.
Claudia ran a finger over the edge of the table. "He'll notice if I get up."
She looked over Borso's shoulder and saw Machiavelli having a deep discussion with the innkeeper. Clearly, they were friends for she had never seen Niccolò chatting with anyone else. He looked pained and tired, as if he hadn't slept in days.
Last night, he had appeared the same way, but today, he looked even more disturbed. His friend got up and tapped Machiavelli's shoulder as if offering him consolation. Machiavelli didn't look up and kept staring at the surface of the table.
His friend then brought him a mug and set it down before him. Machiavelli intertwined his fingers and then tapped his forehead as if trying to will away his headache. Then he got up suddenly, picked up the mug and smashed it hard against the wall.
The mug shattered into pieces and without another word, Machiavelli stormed out of the inn. The other customers gasped only for a moment before resuming their drinking.
"That was strange." Borso said. "Did he see you?"
"I don't think so." Claudia said, shaken by Machiavelli's behavior. Had the usually composed man actually done that? It had happened so fast that she still felt shaken, as if it were a nightmare she had just seen.
The innkeeper went to the table and knelt down to pick up the pieces of the destroyed mug. Claudia got up slowly, hesitated and then walked over to him.
"Claudia….?" Borso called.
Claudia knelt down beside the innkeeper. "He shouldn't have done this."
"No he shouldn't have." The innkeeper sighed. "He normally doesn't behave this way. But when a man is grieving he cannot be expected to retain his composure."
Claudia handed him over a shard and got up slowly as the innkeeper did too. "Grieving?"
The innkeeper let out another sigh. "His Father just passed away." He replied and walked towards a bin to discard the remains of the mug.
Claudia opened her mouth and couldn't say anything. Machiavelli's Father had died? They were estranged…because of her. And now Machiavelli didn't even get a chance to make up with his Father because of her.
She put a hand over her forehead. Everything around her seemed to be floating and the air was suddenly too thick. She rushed out of the inn and covered her mouth to stop herself from crying or screaming- whichever was going to come first.
"Claudia!" Borso called. "Are you alright?"
"His Father died!" she sobbed. "They…he…." Claudia bent over her side and vomited. She collapsed on her knees and wiped her face. "He died!"
Borso knelt beside her and grabbed her shoulders. "Claudia, do you want to maybe go and speak to him?"
"I can't!" Claudia said. "He and his Father were not on good terms because he had married me. He stayed away from his family because of me!"
"That is not true. I'm sure there were a lot of other reasons for their estrangement."
"It was me." Claudia said. "I ruined his life!"
"You need to grab a hold of yourself." Borso said, pulling her up, but she wouldn't budge.
"He didn't get to speak to him. His Father died without forgiving him." Claudia cried.
"Do not say that."
"I should just leave Roma. I should stay away from him." Claudia sniffed. "I should leave with my baby and never look back. It's better for everyone if I just stay away from them."
Borso had been holding her hand to pull her up and then suddenly dropped it. "Your baby? Are you pregnant?"
"How did you…? Oh no." Claudia clamped a hand over her mouth. Had she just told Borso she was with a child?
"Is it his?" Borso asked.
Claudia got up and shook her head. And then nodded quickly. "You cannot tell anyone!"
Borso looked dumbstruck and continued to stare at her with his mouth agape. "Have you told him?"
"I can't tell him." Claudia sniveled. "He can't ever know. You can't tell anyone. Promise me!"
Borso rubbed his forehead. "Of course. But why?"
"You think the Assassins will be happy to know that I am carrying Machiavelli's child?"
"You cannot hide your pregnancy forever. Eventually, in a few months, the secret will be out." Borso tried to reason.
Claudia shook her head. "I'll think of something. I'll go away from here."
Borso put his hands on her shoulder. "You cannot keep running." He said.
"I have no other way." She said. "I cannot bring up my child in a place where everyone will always see my baby as the offspring of a traitor."
"Then don't tell them it's his!" Borso said.
"What?" Claudia gasped. "Of course they'll know it's his. I haven't been with anyone else."
Borso stood silently for a few minutes, deep in thought. "There is a way." He said finally. "You could marry me."
"No!" Claudia cried. "How could you even say that?"
"I'll take care of you and your child. He won't be shamed in any way." He said.
"No! Machiavelli is innocent and I'll prove it." Claudia said.
"Until that happens, what will you tell your family?" he asked.
Claudia put her hands on her head. "I don't know." She said. "I don't know what to do."
