Jumping from one pole to another, her thoughts and sight was only on what was in front of her. There was a platform where she could step into and an opening in the wall from where she could enter.
If she timed her moves right, she could reach to Caterina before Machiavelli did. This thought only slowed her down. She stepped onto the small place beneath the bridge and caught her breath. With one hand on her waist, she breathed slowly, trying to get back her focus. Machiavelli was only a distraction.
Thinking she had gotten her feelings under control, she jumped back on the pole and then continued to make her way to the platform. Once she landed there, she went through the opening and found a haystack. Without another thought, she jumped into it and lay waiting until the guard completed his round and came towards her so that she could go for the kill.
She slinked further back into the hay and without realizing, closed her eyes and thought of him. Borso had been too hasty in revealing their marriage to Machiavelli. And now he hated her to the point that he wouldn't look at her anymore. This made her want to go find a quiet corner and cry until the heaviness in her heart lifted.
She hated that not only was she living far away from him, he also didn't like her anymore. She couldn't even ask him to continue to be friends so that she could see him at least- this was too far gone. Her hands unconsciously touched her stomach where her baby was growing and opened her eyes.
The guard was walking closer. She cleared her head and readied her blade. When he walked past, she jumped out, stabbed him in the back and drew him inside with her. Pushing aside his body, she stood up, removed her throw knives and aimed at the guard standing by the doorway.
Machiavelli would have to speak to her. He had to look at her. She couldn't live not having him around her.
She aimed the guard's chest and threw the knife. The guard let out a startled cry and crumpled to the floor. The other guard saw him and rushed to his side, but Claudia was ready for him. She threw her knife and the guard clutched at his throat as the knife stabbed him.
The two guards lay writhing on the floor as she walked right up and finding the door locked, climbed up the walls and found a guard standing near the ledge. She pushed her blade into his stomach and pulled so that he fell over. Climbing up, she dusted her hands and made her way to the rooftop.
It was instinct and memory, she told herself, that was helping her navigate this area. Her Assassin training had taught her where to find her destination and her memory showed her which places to avoid. After all, she had escaped from this very place once.
She used her knives again and dispatched the two guards roaming the rooftops. Her boots made a clinking sound as she strode fiercely towards them. She looked down at the bodies and then past them, recognizing the fact that she was absolutely livid. If she saw another guard, she would snap his neck. She was that angry and had to stop on the narrow beam to get her feelings under control.
She was mad at Borso for blurting out and she was mad at Machiavelli for not talking to her and looking at her.
She jumped down and decided that the anger was better than the fear that being in this place brought. It was a convenient substitute if anything else.
When she fell to her knees, she saw a doorway leading inside and stepped in cautiously. Memories of when she had been here clamored up and she felt her head getting lighter. Her body and swayed and she caught the doorway to stop her from falling.
Cesare lived here and though he wasn't here at the moment, the words he had told her and his intentions were clouding her mind. Taking a deep open-mouthed breath, she walked inside, not looking at anything. She kept her eyes down and her ears pricked for any sound of the guards. If she saw even a portrait of Cesare hanging on the walls, she would lose herself.
She found a staircase leading downstairs and felt a rush of memories gathering up again. She had climbed up these very stairs to try and escape. She had lost her way in these halls and everything was a blur except her pain. She could still remember how badly her wrist and back had hurt and how every step had caused the wounds in her stomach to stretch until the pain had been so immense that she couldn't breathe.
The only thing that had made her kept going was the will to escape Cesare.
Claudia staggered down the stairs, trying to eradicate those memories and failing. She remembered laying in the darkness waiting for someone to come rescue her, only no one had. Not even Machiavelli.
She heard a guard's footsteps below and readied her knife. But her head was now spinning and her nausea returned with full force. She had been happy just this morning to finally be rid of it, but now it seemed her morning sickness was becoming an anytime sickness.
She couldn't do this. Darkness started to cloud her vision and she blinked back furiously to clear it. Then she walked slowly downstairs and raised her blade. The guard stopped just near the bottom stair and turned around so that his back was towards her. She hadn't been noticed and that was a blessing.
Silently creeping downstairs, she plunged the dagger into the guard's back and covered his mouth to stifle her cries. Pushing him away, she quickly turned left, only to bump hard into someone.
"Ow!" she cried and almost fell over as her dizziness took over and blurred her vision.
She felt her arm being pulled roughly and then her back was slammed against the wall.
"Don't!" she cried and then felt a familiar touch on her.
"You have to leave this very instant." His voice was a low growl.
"No." she said. The anger helped in dissipating her dizziness spell. He wasn't looking at her, but all around them as if afraid of something.
"For once can you just listen?"
"Bene. Tell me why?" she said stubbornly.
"Shh." He said and then stepped closer to her. They were in a sort of alcove and hidden behind three crates of gun powder.
Looking behind his shoulder she saw a group of five Brutes walking by.
"Tell me why?" she whispered.
"Lucrezia is here. I thought she would leave with Cesare, but apparently they are having a tiff." He replied distractedly.
Claudia kept staring at him, waiting for him to finally turn and look at her. His hands were still on her shoulders and she was sure he hadn't noticed.
"Who is she?"
Machiavelli did turn then but he looked at her as if she were foolish. "You don't know who Lucrezia Borgia is." It wasn't a question but a mocking statement.
Claudia distinctly remembered hearing her name before and then recalled where. "Cesare's sister." She said, remembering the day Rodrigo had asked his son to go and greet his sister. "So?"
"Lucrezia Borgia is no ordinary woman. She is like a sharp blade and you would do better to stay away from her." Machiavelli said in a low voice. He then turned his head, though not moving away. His hands slipped from her shoulder as if he had just realized he was touching her.
"I'm not afraid." She said resolutely.
Machiavelli sighed exasperatedly. "The day you escaped, it is all the Borgia have been talking about." He said. "Cesare grew obsessed with finding you and it took everything to keep him distracted." Machiavelli shook his head as if remembering how frustrating a time it had been. "I kept him busy with work, but afterwards Leonardo and I had to come up with a plan."
"What plan?" she asked, mortified by this admission.
"Leonardo designed the blue prints of war machines." He replied, with one had on his blade as another group of guards passed by. They were only ten feet away. "We made sure they looked authentic but did not work. That kept Cesare busy, but his obsession with finding you made his sister jealous."
"Jealous?"
Machiavelli raised an eyebrow. "Cesare and Lucrezia do not have a normal relationship. Suffice to say, Lucrezia is envious of every woman Cesare eyes."
"Oh." Claudia said. "That did not scare me."
"I wasn't trying to." Machiavelli said.
"You've lied to me before so that I would leave Roma." Claudia said. "You sent me into traps. So you have to forgive me if I don't believe every word you say."
"You never did trust me, did you?" Machiavelli said bitterly. "All those times you said you did, but you never did. I did lie to you once but it was for your safety."
"You cannot really expect me to believe that you're saying all this to keep me safe." Claudia said.
"And what ulterior motive would I have?"
"According to you, I'm not clever enough to figure that out. At least that's how you've made me feel every time." Claudia accused.
Machiavelli frowned. "This isn't the time to argue." He said and started to walk away, but Claudia grabbed his arm.
"And that's another thing you always do. Walking away." Claudia almost screamed and then clamped down. They were in enemy's territory and having an argument. What was wrong with her?
"Because there really is no sense in trying to reason with you anymore." Machiavelli said. "Someone who has decided not to listen will never listen."
"Or you're just too scared to face your own feelings." She said. "You don't walk away because you have nothing left to say, you walk away because you're afraid that you may reveal yourself to another person and that scares you."
"That is preposterous!"
"It's not." Claudia said. "That's why you maintain your secrecy because you're afraid people may never like the real you."
"You're speaking like La Volpe."
Claudia gasped. "Tell me the truth then. Tell me exactly why you always walk away from me?"
"I have already given my reasons." Machiavelli said. "And what do you care anyway? Now you're getting married to that mercenary. Another great decision made by the glorious Claudia Auditore."
"And yet again I've made a terrible error." Claudia said scornfully. "I can never appease the great you, can I? I'm foolish Claudia who does not know how to lead my own life and need constant rescuing from you."
"True." Machiavelli said. "All you ever do is make mistakes."
"Because I'm pathetic, remember? That's what you called me!"
"I…." Machiavelli started to argue when a woman's voice interrupted them.
"Will you both stop your bickering?"
Both of them bent their heads and looked out to see the cells where Caterina was standing with her fingers around the bars. "Are you here to save me?"
Machiavelli stepped forth. "Si. I have."
Claudia matched her pace with his and they both made it to her cell at the same time.
"Are you alright?" They both asked in unison and then looked at each other in annoyance.
"Si. Now get me out." Caterina said.
Machiavelli pushed at the cell and then frowned when the door wouldn't budge. "I don't think I can break the lock. We need a key."
"Of course." Caterina said.
Claudia walked to the far side of the room and looked under the benches. Even if they couldn't find a key, maybe they could search for something to pry open the lock; a metallic bar or even a nail or something.
She straightened and was about to make her way back to Caterina when she looked to her side and saw an empty cell. This was where she had been kept. Beyond the bars was the small window she had looked out of and yearned for rescue.
There was only dampness and darkness inside and the familiar smell of rotting reached her nostrils. This was where she had lived in fear every time she had heard the door open and heard heavy footsteps that belonged to Cesare.
Her mouth went dry and she could feel her back tingling near the place where Cesare had cut her. Shaking herself, she walked back and saw Machiavelli watching her and then looking towards the cell. She saw raw pain flash on his face before he turned back to Caterina.
"I'll go find the key." Machiavelli said. "Which guard did you see it with?"
"A guard doesn't have it." Caterina said and then her eyes widened and her mouth fell as she saw something behind them.
"I have it." Claudia heard a sharp woman's voice and turned around to see a blonde-haired woman in a long gold embroidered red dress with a high neck, standing by the doorway. Behind her was a large group of guards and Brutes- all with their weapons ready.
As the woman stepped towards them, Claudia swore she could smell roses, vanilla and even blood. It was as if the woman had just killed someone and bathed in her victim's blood. The image was terrifying and probably untrue, but it wouldn't leave her imagination.
"I've had my doubts about you Messer Machiavelli." The woman removed her dagger and ran a finger alongside the dagger, drawing a drop of blood. "And now I am so pleased to know that I was right about you all along."
