Part Twenty-Three: The Spanish Inquisition
It felt like his entire body was on fire, everything ached, and he couldn't get comfortable. He opened his eyes, blearily, but could not understand the blurry shapes he saw, made no sense of the noises in his ears. And so he closed his eyes and drifted back.
When next he woke, he still had a fever, he could tell from the sweat. His chin itched, though he didn't understand why, and turning over in bed was unmitigated agony. He awoke several times after that, becoming more and more aware of the fact that he was ill, until at last he woke up without the hazy pain of the fever. He was in a bed he was unfamiliar with, the sheets and blankets long since kicked off because of his sickness.
Weak, he tried to reach down for the linens, he was finally chilled, and he wanted to get warm.
Doing so caused a flare of pain in his side, he hissed and clutched at his abdomen, and doing so made him remember bits of what happened. The Apple...!
He made it halfway to his feet before he fainted from his weakness.
When next he woke, it was daylight and, groaning, he discovered there was a person watching over him.
"Ezio!" Caterina Sforza's beautiful face filled his vision. "Thank God, you're back with us. Are you all right? What happened to you?"
Bits of memory filled his vision. "I... I don't know..."
"One of my guards had the luck to find you in the hills, next to Checco Orsi's dead body. You had nearly bled out..."
"Sì... I remember..." Ezio said, sinking into the pillows and closing his eyes. Checco had stabbed him after they fell from the horses; grinning and proud even in death. Ezio had pulled the knife out, but couldn't reach his medicine pack. He had been looking for horses and... "Wait..." he said, his eyes snapping open. "There was a third man... He took the Apple!"
Caterina nodded. "We didn't find the Apple anywhere near you. Who was it?"
Bright sunlight despite thick clouds, the scent of rain, and... "He wore a black robe. Like a monk... I think I saw rosary beads. And I think... a missing finger?" A hand clutching the Apple, active and glowing, whispers in his ears. "Sì! Caterina, I have to go - right away!" He moved to sit up and his vision faded almost completely to black, his body falling back into the bedding and leaving him panting. "What...?"
"You're not going anywhere any time soon, mio caro," Caterina said, reaching up and touching his suddenly warm head with cool fingers. "You nearly died from the stab wound, the bastardo used a dirty knife. You've had a fever for the last five days, no one thought you were going to live."
"It's your move, brother!"
"I'm still older than you, you know. That means there are still a lot of things I haven't taught you."
"You have done more than I have ever imagined, Ezio."
"Then... that was just a dream...?" He shook his head, suddenly exhausted. He would have to put it aside. "Five days, you said?"
"Six, if you include how long it took to find you."
"Merda, then he could be anywhere by now."
"I know. Niccolo's already gone, trying to track it down. We know it's a priest or a monk now, with black robes. That will help. I'll send a courier to him. You, in the meantime, need sleep. The doctor will see to you soon."
The meeting with the doctor turned into quite a fight. The man seemed to think that Ezio had regenerated enough blood that now it was time to get the bad blood out, already pulling out a jar of leeches. This lead to several pronounced protests, enough that Caterina, hearing some of Ezio's finer curses, decided she agreed with the assassin and ordered the doctor to put the damnable beasts away. This left Ezio weak, however, and forced him to capitulate to the other demands of the doctor without complaint.
The stitches to his side, he learned healed well; though this was no surprise to him as his other cases of stitching generally followed the same pattern. The only exception was the scar on his lip - but those were extenuating circumstances. His shoulder, also, was much better since his trials, and overall he was left very surprised at the overpowering weakness he felt.
As it was it was a week before he could get up and walk round Caterina's palazzo, and that irked him to no end.
Caterina, however, proved to be exceedingly patient with his recovery, treating him to the finest guest chambers in her home, visiting him every day, giving him all his favorite foods - even saltless bread, which the very scent of had left his mouth watering. How long had it been! He met and learned about the children, Ottaviano enamored with him, but Bianca apparently didn't like a man who was so weak after a measly little stabbing, and had lost interest in him as a potential husband - Ezio sighed in relief at that, and Caterina laughed outright when she found out, eying him even more appreciatively.
It was the end of August when he was finally strong enough to enter the city - slowly - and the fresh air tickled at his beard, making him rub his chin. The itchiness had passed, for the most part, and looking in a mirror he found he liked the dark hair against his skin - incredibly pale as it had become. It was also one less thing to do in the morning; he had initially kept himself clean-shaven in honor of his father, but now he felt he could strike out on his own, and the beard helped him feel more secure in that decision. He did, however, keep it well groomed. He learned quickly that the longer it got the harder it was to maintain. He had no idea how Leonardo could handle his own facial hair, and wrote a letter asking about it when he had the chance.
Claudia had been thrilled to finally get a letter from him, if her reply was any indication, and had, after consultation, a long list of foods he was supposed to eat to regain his strength - which Ezio stoutly ignored if only because the type of food had nothing to do with strength - food was food, and any of it was good for him.
By the end of September, he started to retrain his body, performing some simple running and climbing, and a few light spars to get him back into shape. Caterina, surprisingly, fought with him, swearing and giving pointers all the way; and her guards cheered her on. Ezio learned she had trained the Forli guards herself - no wonder they had been so useful in the battle earlier that year, and the exercise invigorated him.
That night, he invigorated her. And for several nights Ezio received exercise such as he had never known.
"You," she said firmly one night, "Are decidedly not boring in bed, mio caro."
"I should hope not," he said, running his fingers through her hair, his other hand massaging her ass.
"My husband would be very jealous."
"Too bad he's dead."
Caterina snorted. "I meant my new husband."
That killed the mood. Immediately. "You remarried?"
"Yes," the Countess said, surprised at the shift in atmosphere. "Last month. We're keeping secret for now, I still haven't heard word about whether or not I'll be named Ottaviano's regent, and I don't want anything to hurt that."
Ezio shook his head, sitting up and reaching for his clothes. Images of Duccio, Claudia's tears, Cristina and what he'd done to her, all filled his mind. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do this. You're married."
Caterina sat up, naked and beautiful, and looked at him in surprise. "That bothers you? From what I heard..."
"No," Ezio said, pulling up his pants, hopping slightly and wincing at the new scar on his abdomen. "Not married girls. I won't do that to them. I can't."
"Mio caro..." But something in her eyes changed, and she nodded. "You're better than I even thought, Ezio. I'm remiss to have lost you. But know this," she added, getting to her feet and blocking his exit. She once more reached down and grabbed him, fondling and caressing. "Marriage doesn't mean all that much to me, Ezio; and I think you should know by now I bed who I want. And you, mio caro, are definitely worth wanting." She placed one long, open mouthed, exploratory kiss to his neck, licking and sucking before shifting up to his lips. When she was satisfied, she pulled away, licking her lips suggestively, and arching an eyebrow. "You know where to find me," she said.
Ezio left quickly, and spent the rest of the night staring out the window of his chambers, working to release the leftover desire, cursing all the way.
The next day he left, and Caterina personally escorted him to the gates of the city, eying him greedily but also with a layer of understanding.
"A final gift," she said suddenly, handing over a rolled piece of parchment. "You will need this."
Wary of her intentions, he took the paper and unrolled it, turning it about until he realized what it was.
"The map Niccolo spoke of. Your husband's-"
"Ex-husband, mio caro. He swore he'd uncovered the locations of all the Codex pages. You will recover the Apple, but you'll never find the Vault without this." And she gave him one last kiss on the lips before spanking his horse and sending him off.
And she watched him go until long after he had disappeared into the hills.
Ezio stopped at every church, monastery, abbey, and random priest he could find from Romagna to Tuscany, asking about monks dressed in black with rosary beads, missing a finger on the left hand. Nobody knew anything, and so when he arrived in Monteriggioni in early October, he felt as though little enough had been accomplished.
Monteriggioni, however, was a different matter entirely.
After eight years away, the twenty-nine year old discovered that the city had done quite well for itself. The city wall, once crumbling and in obvious need of repair, now stood tall and sturdy, any hints of damage long since disappeared. There was a steady throng of traffic coming in and out of the city, the stables had been torn down and rebuilt - larger than ever, and filled with horses, as he discovered when he went to stable his. Every building inside had been repaired and repainted, the church was up and running, and when he climbed to the roof, he saw that barracks had been repaired and upgraded. Also, he saw the rich colors of a bordello, something he thought Claudia would never approve of, and the banners of a thief's guild. The main street was filled with shops: art, apothecary, Santino's smithy, the bank, Claudia's tailor, and a new butcher shop, and a cooper, and Orazio opened up an architect office.
Easily for an hour, Ezio just wandered the streets in awe.
Then he went up to the villa.
The gardens had been completely redone - only the trees remained. What was once withered and brown even during the summer was a lush green - even though it was October! All the flowerbeds held autumn blooms; they even encircled the training ring. The villa itself, all the windows had been replaced, freshly cleaned, the façade perfect. And above it all, Assassin flags flew in the wind: red, white, black, and beautiful. Everything shined in the October sun, and Ezio felt...
He felt home.
He hoped his father could see this from Heaven, and that he was proud.
With that bemused thought, he entered the villa, lowering his hood, and looked around. The grand staircase had a fresh carpet at its feet; potted plants had been brought in and cared for. He walked up to the second level, entering the gallery to see that Mario had made great use of Vincenzo. He saw many copies of Leonardo's works, recognizing his friend's style, but also finding other artists that he'd heard of or not, every wall covered with beautiful paintings and lit beautifully. Even his loft rooms, before rough wood and unfinished, had been redone, and his own paintings, the ones he'd completed, were hung with artful care.
He was staring at the last portrait he had done, Jacopo de' Pazzi, realizing he had many more to finish or hang, when he heard a startled gasp. Spinning around, he saw a servant - not Annetta - staring at him.
"Signora!" she suddenly shouted, startling Ezio. "Signora! He's here! He's here!"
And she grabbed his wrist and all but yanked him back down to the main entry, shouting "Signora!" all the way, before exploding into the main office and parading him to the desk where Claudia sat, going over accounts, if his first glance was accurate.
The brunette looked up. "Ezio!" She cried, standing up. "You're back!"
But Ezio was staring at something else entirely.
"Piccina," he whispered, pole-axed. "Your belly..."
For, indeed, his twenty-seven year old sister, innocent to the world, had a belly swollen, up and out and high on her body, and it pressed against him when she hugged him tightly.
"Oh, that's old news, Ezio," Claudia said brightly, positively glowing, "I can't believe you made it back! We weren't sure you'd be here for the birth, but now here you are! Ulderico will be so please-"
"I'll kill him," Ezio growled, pulling back to stare at her. "I'll kill him!" His sister, deflowered! Pregnant...! That... that... bastardo!
"I married him, Ezio, what made you think this wouldn't happen?"
"I'll kill that bastard!"
It took an hour for Ezio to remotely acclimate himself to the idea that his sister was married and pregnant, another hour to wrap his head around the fact that killing Ulderico would not make it go away, and another hour after that before he finally realized that Claudia was happy. When he at last noticed it, blinking and staring like he had been for hours, something in the back of his mind relaxed, and his shoulders lowered, and he hugged his sister tightly before pressing his hand to her swollen abdomen.
"Welcome to the Auditore," he whispered softly, and he kissed her stomach before cupping her face with his hand and doing the same to her forehead.
He would still kill Ulderico, but now it would have to be in the training ring. An accident.
"But that's not the only news, Ezio," Claudia said happily. "Come with me."
And he was once more led, this time upstairs.
"Mother! Mother, look who I found!"
The two siblings wandered into Maria's chambers, Ezio already pulling out his vast collection of feathers for her precious feather box, and saw that she was sitting at the foot of the bed. "Mother, Ezio's back!"
Ezio stood in front of his mother, taking her hands and gently guiding her up. He hugged her tightly, thinking of his fever dreams. He was surprised to feel that she hugged him back, small arms wrapping around his waist and shoulder. He pulled back slightly, and to his everlasting shock she looked him in the eye.
And she smiled.
"Thank you," she said softly, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you for not forgetting about me." She pulled away a little, gesturing for Claudia to join, and all three of hugged each other, once more a family, once more complete. "Thank you for waiting..."
"They were for quills," Ezio whispered, tears in his eyes as the emotion overcame him. She was back! His mother was back! "He was collecting feathers to make quills for you, knowing how much you wrote in your journals."
A tear slid down her cheek, and she smiled again, looking him in the eye, not staring off to space. "That sounds like him," she whispered. "We'll do just that."
That night was a feast: celebrating the return of Ezio Auditore da' Firenze, the patron of Monteriggioni, savior of the city. He regaled everyone with his adventures, giving theatrical accounts of his time in Venice and its smelly canals, exploring the lost tombs and collecting seals which he laid out on the table, mischief in Carnevale, the Battle of Forli, his induction to the Assassin Order, the Apple and its mysterious powers, and his great shame in losing it.
Claudia, in turn, talked about Alfeo's death three years prior, and the new doctor and his decidedly softer hands. Adler the banker had retired, leaving one of his assistants - a young waif of a man named Romeo - in charge. Santino had become a master smith and was currently ogling some find that had come to him from the East, and the tailor Doriano was making quite the name for himself. She talked about his brilliant idea to send thieves to Monteriggioni for hiding, and that now several thieves came for that purpose - after paying a tax on entry, of course, and spent their time practicing their climbing or assessing the security of the city walls. They weren't the only ones either; Annetta had been conscripted by her sister Paola to set up the bordello in the town, and women went there either to hide or to heal, and that the mercenaries now had doubled their numbers with the new barracks.
The next day, before dawn, Ezio took the seals and went down to the Sanctuary under the villa. He placed the seals he had collected in Forli and Venice, bowing to each of them formally as he listened to the chink and pull of ancient mechanisms. Eventually the iron gate was unlocked, and Ezio stepped past it for the first time, looking up at the unhindered view of the statue of Altair, the long coattails, the hidden blade, the hood.
He was such a great man, Altair; rebuilding the Assassin Order virtually from scratch, studying the Apple for years, inventing techniques.
"Do you, too, have a tomb somewhere?" he asked. "Will I ever get to see it?"
He wanted to pay homage, homage to this great man who had - unknowingly - given Ezio everything.
Then he looked down, to the armor that had been locked away. There was little to no decoration, no embellishment - just simple metal plates, sewn together with leather cords. Curious, he picked up one of the greaves, and was shocked to find it as light as leather. The vambraces, even the oddly designed chest plate, were easy to pick up; they held almost no weight. He looked up to the statue again.
"Thank you, Altair," he said, "For this great gift." He reached out, touching the boot of the statue. "May it shield me from my enemies."
He collected the armor, bringing it up to a curious Claudia, and she, too, marveled at the design. Neither of them was certain how to even put it on, and it was in examining it that they discovered a rolled piece of parchment with a decorative boarder. Ezio immediately recognized what it was, one single, solitary Codex page.
"What does it say?" Claudia asked.
"I may not know until I send it to Leonardo," Ezio said. "He gave me some of the ciphers, he said sometimes they were repeated. Let me try..." And, after three hours' worth of work, he found the correct cipher and translated the page - what he could of it.
"Legends speak of a Golden Fleece. Could the two be related?
"...I have further refined the metallurgic process, allowing for the production of a suit of armor the likes of which the world has never seen...
"...It is possessed of great strength, yet so light as to allow complete freedom...
"...I alternate between wonder and fear. Here we have crafted something that will surely change the face of warfare, making those who wear it nigh invincible...
"Perhaps it was a mistake to create these pieces. I think it best to erase the formulae. What if it were to fall in the hands of our enemies? The risk is too great..."
"So, then, he was a blacksmith? In his free time I suppose," Claudia theorized, reading through Ezio's sloppy translation. "Like you and painting."
"But how did he create such a work of art?" Ezio wondered, lifting the chest plate, light as leather, and examining the leather cords. "How could he even deduce a formula for this?"
"You would know that better than I," Claudia replied, hefting a vambrace. "You've read that Codex more than anyone."
For the rest of the day they tried to determine how to put it on, navigating the leather cords connecting the various plates. When they solved the puzzle at last, they realized how simple it was, and once Ezio put it on he could tell immediately why it was so awe-inspiring. Each individual plate of metal in his chest guard was layered, and now he understood why, because he could move around completely without anything digging into a side, or pulling against a stretch. All of his most complicated moves could be done without fear of straining a muscle to weight, or pulling apart a seam of the armor. He was immediately out and climbing the façade of the villa, leaping into a nearby haystack, practicing tucks and rolls and twists, and it was as if he were wearing leather armor. That evening they took the armor in and explained the adventures to their mother, who smiled and nodded at all the appropriate moments, before offering a soft smirk and saying,
"Armor like that deserves a proper doublet and hood, don't you think?"
Claudia immediately introduced Ezio to Doriano and his sister Arianna, explaining that they wanted a new outfit to match a new set of armor they had acquired.
"Well," Doriano said, eying Ezio up and down. "I can certainly see why you would want a new outfit. Look at over-extended waistcoat; it flitters out behind you in such an unfashionable manner. And simple grey with red pinstripes? How gauche. You'll be much better served once I'm done with you."
"But..." Ezio started, feeling slightly put out by the vaguely insulting comments. "I like the long coattails. My father wore them..."
"Oh, but you stand out like a-"
"No," Claudia said firmly. "He never stands out when he doesn't want to."
The sister, Arianna looked him up and down. "Your name was Ezio, messere? After the eagle?"
"Yes, why?"
But the woman's eyes widened, excitement shuddering through her body. "Yes, yes! An eagle! Tail feathers - that's what those are; no wonder you like them, it suits you so. Yes, we'll make long coattails, no problem there. And the red sash, you hang it so well, yes, strong hips, you could pull it off. What kind of metal is it? We'll need the right colors, many layers, maybe a touch of gold, those new slit sleeves out of Milano, they'll look great, and-"
"Arianna, I'm trying to do business," Doriano hissed.
"No, you're about to lose the best customer of the town," Arianna said, already pulling out bolts of fabric. "Black, I think, or a deep charcoal grey, it will makes the whites and the reds stand out. Embroidery, feathers, yes feathers..."
Ezio left the shop not quite understanding what had happened, but Claudia assured him that all was as it should be. She proudly explained that Arianna, not Doriano, was the inspiration of the shop - despite the brother's many protests to the contrary. Ezio nodded, remembering the relationship of Rosa and Ugo, and took it in stride.
For the weeks he waited for the new clothes to be made, he spent every day in the training ring against Ulderico. He learned very quickly that his prolonged recovery in Forli had affected his mastery over his body, and he ended up in the dirt more times than he had in the last several years. It was time well spent, and when he wasn't in the ring (and drawing crowds of mercenaries, it seemed), he was racing the thieves to build back up his endurance and retrain his body for climbing. More often than not he was leaving them in his dust, but one or two would give him a good chase. If not racing, he was with the courtesans, asking after Paola and learning what was new in Florence, or San Gimignano, or other places in Tuscany. He was surprised to learn that another Medici bank had failed. What was Lorenzo doing to make so many bad decisions with money?
Maria offered the best insight on that particular matter. "Perhaps he cannot split his focus," she said softly over dinner. "He was always one that dedicated himself to one problem at a time, and of late his only concern was his dream."
Ezio was surprisingly troubled after that conversation. He wondered how difficult it was to be a patron and a banker at the same time. He looked out to Monteriggioni, knowing that the people saw him as their patron, but he hardly felt it because of all his time in Venice, and his mission to avenge his family, and his dedication to the assassins. Had he neglected the city? But it was thriving... because of the decisions he made? He didn't feel like it.
The thoughts were quickly shaken off, however, when Doriano and Arianna arrived with the new clothes, and soon Ezio was putting on a black doublet and coattails that were longer than he'd ever seen. Everything was trimmed in gold, and the simple red sash he always wore was now fancier; there were extra layers he had not anticipated, and at first he didn't think it looked particularly great - the starched collars stuck out terribly, and he was more than a little doubtful when he shrugged on Altair's armor.
But then he got a good look at himself in the mirror.
Arianna was right. He looked like an eagle.
The hood, the gold touches looked like feathers, tail feathers represented by his coattails, he looked like a black eagle, ready to swoop down and strike.
He hoped his father would be proud.
... He hoped Altair would approve.
And he smiled, running a hand over his beard and examining himself. Claudia and Maria both were smiling brightly.
He learned by accident that the clothes did more than look good. He won three bouts with Ulderico right in a row - much to Claudia's disappointment, and Ezio knew he wasn't yet in shape to do that yet.
"It's your feet," Ulderico said. "I can't see them."
And Ezio loved his new clothes even more.
He soon visited the blacksmith to show the new armor, and Santino was beside himself as he examined it. Marco and Carlo, too, could not understand how it had been fashioned.
"I thought Venezia always produced utter trash but this..."
"No, this isn't Venetian. It's... much older."
Santino begged to understand it, melt it down, but Ezio explained it was the only one of its kind, and that he respected its creator's wish to keep it that way. The master crafter mourned loudly, but eventually moved past it and showed Ezio his latest find. "It's a sword from the east," he said. "I know that you like antiquities, and I'm told it's several hundred years old. I can't speak to that, I'm no expert, but the blade is impressive. If it really is as old as it was claimed, the blade still looks brand new. And, looking at your armor, I think they might be related."
And Santino produced a simple sword, Syrian in design, with the hilt looking like wings and the pommel looking like an eagle head. It was one piece of metal, the grip wrapped in a simple leather cord. It was unremarkable, save for the eagle design that Ezio had seen before. In the Codex. Could this sword...? Ezio took it back to the villa and filtered through his Codex pages to the collections of drawings and diagrams, and he saw several of the instructional pages, and it showed an assassin holding a sword with such a design.
It was true, then. This was an Assassin sword. His next test was to take it out and try it against every blade in the armory he could find. He broke several blades, but the Assassin blade was not even chipped. Marveling, he pulled off the leather guard, and saw Arabic script, a name perhaps, and he hardly dared to think... but the translation was: La-Ahad.
The sword of Altair.
He was holding the sword of...
He marched right back to Santino and said he would buy it, no matter the price.
Mario returned in mid-November, and three days later Claudia went into labor.
Ezio and Ulderico both paced about the halls of the villa, rich with worry, but Mario leaned against Claudia's door and looked utterly unruffled. "When you get to be as old as I am," the fifty-four year old said, "You know that these things will happen exactly as it wants to, and worrying won't help."
Claudia let out a shriek and a vicious curse after that, and Ulderico, Ulderico, who had taught Ezio so much, went white as a sheet and fainted there on the spot.
Ezio decided that killing the man wouldn't mean much after that, and after he (with great pleasure) splashed water on him, he lead him to the kitchens and opened up a wine bottle, proceeding to numb the man's pain and his senses. Ezio, too, was more than a little buzzed when Mario arrived to say the baby was born, but he kept steady feet as he helped the staggering Ulderico to meet his daughter.
Claudia was resplendent if exhausted in the bed, Maria and two midwives flanking her, and in her hands was the tiniest creature Ezio had ever seen.
"Federica," she said weakly. "Her name is Federica."
Ezio's eyes watered when he heard it, and he kissed his sister gently on the head as Ulderico held his daughter, swaying dangerously.
It was the first Christmas in Ezio's memory where he felt no compulsion to find a warm bed to chase off nightmares. Instead he would sneak into Claudia and Ulderico's rooms and watch the baby, maybe hold her for a little while, cooing and patting her. More than once Claudia - the early riser of the two - would wake to see Ezio curled into a chair holding his niece, hair askew and baby nuzzling his beard, and she knew why he was there and said nothing, instead wrapping him in an extra blanket and giving him his time.
For the next year he stayed in the villa, marveling over Federica and constantly getting underfoot of Claudia and Maria as they took care of her. Ulderico was still training the mercenaries and keeping them in shape - the job kept him busy; and his evenings were spent singing his daughter to sleep. Ezio caught up on the accounts with Claudia, Federica bouncing between them, and the two made plans for the future.
Behind Altair's statue, Ezio had seen the start of what looked to be a tunnel. After Claudia had examined it and Mario approved it, they hired several miners to extend the tunnel and connect it to the mines beyond the city - an escape route, just in case. They also were finally able to finance a renovation of the irrigation ditches in the outlying farms. Now that the city was making enough income to support themselves, they looked to the farms to try and improve them. Maria and Ezio often rode out to the countryside, the two asking questions of the farmers and what they needed, making lists and prioritizing what they could and couldn't do, and hiring heralds to announce what their plans were.
Mario, as always, was in and out of the villa, traveling all of Italia it seemed sometimes, and always bringing in news when he did. Beyazid II, for example, over in the Ottoman Empire had effectively sold his brother Cem to the Pope. Cem had changed hands throughout Europe for quite some time since Beyazid's ascension to sultan, but now the Ottomans paid the Papacy for his capture a total that, according to Mario, amounted to the entire Papal income.
Also, in April, Caterina Sforza in Forli gave birth to another child, a son. Ezio had panicked slightly at the news before he counted backwards and realized he was not the father. Claudia had scolded him terribly for that reaction, as did Maria, and said if he was so scared of fathering children he shouldn't be bedding women in the first place. Ezio squirmed terribly over that, reluctant in the extreme to give up that particular outlet.
Ezio also painted, working hard to construct the faces of his targets from memory and do them justice.
He also worked on the family portrait, but doing that was painful even after so many years, and it only happened in short spurts.
Everyone celebrated the various milestones of Federica as she came upon them, especially her first steps, when she walked straight up to - not her father Ulderico, but her uncle Ezio, and slapped her hands against his knees.
"It's because you slept with her so often," Ulderico pouted, actually pouted. "You've spoiled her."
Letters came in from everywhere, Caterina in Forli, talking about her regency and her relief that it had been granted her; Lorenzo, welcoming him back to Monteriggioni and asking him to visit whenever he could at Villa Careggi; Leonardo from Milan; Mario from whatever city he was in; Antonio and Bartolomeo both from Venice.
Federica's first birthday was cause for great celebration, Claudia and Ulderico were ecstatic, every mercenary not on duty got exceedingly drunk in honor of their captain - and a few on duty. The courtesans all offered up gifts: pillows and ribbons and perfumes, and the thieves staying in the city held a race in the baby's honor. The entire main street was one massive carnival, dances and parades and buffets of food as Claudia and her daughter walked it, Ulderico entirely forgotten, as was Ezio, and Maria could only laugh at Ezio's pout.
"You haven't been here for several years," she said quietly, schooling his jealousy. "You are not the face of their good fortune, Claudia is. Gratitude will always be rewarded, whether it is a visible display, like this, or in an invisible way - like Paola that night. You've had your share of gratitude, Ezio, let Claudia have hers."
And Ezio nodded, the words worming into his brain and mixing with Altair's various ponderings in his Codex, coalescing into something he couldn't yet name.
At the turn of the year, after Claudia's birthday, Ezio braved the rainy weather and traveled to Florence to take Lorenzo up on his offer for a visit, passing through the city and saying hello to Paola - catching up as he could and offering his well wishes to Volpe - before traveling to Villa Careggio and meeting the patron of Florence.
Lorenzo was not the man he knew.
Once young and vibrant, now he was forty-one, his face aged and lined. The quiet sense of purpose and certainty was missing; he looked a man who had lived years of stress.
Something of Ezio's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Lorenzo smiled briefly as he put his hands on Ezio's shoulders in greeting. "Forgive me, my boy," he said softly, "For not looking my best."
Ezio quickly shook his head, bowing in respect. "Forgive me, Magnifico, I did not mean to offend."
"You could hardly ever do that, my boy," Lorenzo said, gesturing that they sit. Ezio did so, and noted that Lorenzo looked relieved to be off his feet. "I know how I look. Even Clarice cannot deny that I am like this. Mi dispace, Ezio, that you have returned to find me less than what I was. It seems to be a trait of many men, and all my attempts to avoid it had only brought it upon me sooner."
"... What has happened?"
"Perhaps the best way to put it is excess," Lorenzo explained. "I would prefer a different term, but I will have to learn to call a spade a spade eventually. You see, all my ideals, all my plans, all my dreams, cost money. As a banker, I did not think much of this, but now I am learning the hard way that one cannot be done without the other. I have ignored the banking for too long in favor of the dream, and now I must regretfully switch my priorities." Lorenzo gave a great, weary sigh. "I can only hope the people forgive me."
Ezio frowned, slightly. "Forgive you?"
"Oh, Ezio, I forget you have not been here," the patron of Florence said, rubbing his forehead. "Where before, I could perform favors and ask nothing in return, now I am forced to withhold my goodwill until my finances are in better straights. Simple men do not see that; only that I have become miserly with my gifts."
Ezio shrugged his shoulders. "Then tell them."
"And admit that their faith in me was misplaced? No. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I would rather their scorn than their disappointment. Pride, I suppose." He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, and sighed again, gathering strength before beginning again. "I did not call you here to lay my worries at your feet. I've still enough influence for a few favors yet, and for the sake of your father I will use them for you. Is there anything I can do for you, my boy?"
Ezio shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortably aware of what favor he held with Lorenzo, and uncertain if he should feel guilty for the attention when others were suffering for it. Should gratitude only be saved for one person? Or should it be distributed to everyone? He wondered what Altair would think.
"Two things, if it is possible," Ezio said slowly, uncomfortable but unwilling to let an opportunity slip. "The first is perhaps the most important: I am looking for a man. He is a monk or a priest, black robes and a rosary, and he is missing a finger on his left hand. He has... taken something of great value to me and my uncle, and I need to find him."
"Of course, I'll keep an eye out," Lorenzo said, nodding. "I'm looking to bring priests in the city regardless; without me to look to I would feel better if the people had a new shepherd to guide them. Even with my troubles I want Firenze to be safe, even if it is not me who does it."
Ezio nodded slowly, taking in the information. "Also, there are some certain houses in the city that I would like access to; I have reason to believe certain pages like the ones we found in the Pazzi compound those years ago might be there."
"Of course, Ezio. I'll write a note to Poliziano and he can assist you."
"Grazie, Signore."
"Of course, my boy."
Not long after Leonardo sent a letter from Milan, extolling adventures with a new assistant he had taken in. Ten years old, and Leonardo only called him Salai, a little devil that caused much trouble and had, by Leonardo's admission, ensnared his heart with his charm. Ezio laughed, and wrote back with his own stories about his niece Federica and her ability to explore anywhere, even where she was decidedly not safe, and the worry she put Claudia and Ulderico through. Ezio explained happily that the girl took after him.
Mario also brought news that a boy named Cesare had made bishop. Ezio asked why that was important, and he learned that Rodrigo Borgia had an entire entourage of children, and that now that they were growing up they bore watching.
After that Ezio quickly learned there were three sons and a daughter: Giovanni, Cesare, Lucrezia, and Gioffre. Beyond that, however, he knew little, because as children they had not yet done much.
The rest of the year was spent scouring the Tuscan countryside, asking after priests and monks. He learned more about the various orders of theology than he wanted to know, but none of them had heard or seen of a man with a missing finger, or there were many with missing fingers. Some had names, Savonarola came up many times - a man who was studying in Florence but had left years ago to master them - where was anyone's guess, and none had seen him since.
The Codex pages Ezio had acquired in Florence also came back with Leonardo's translations, and Ezio learned a little bit of Altair as a person.
"Some days I miss my family... or at least the thought of them. I never knew my parents well, despite them both having lived within these walls. It was our way. Perhaps they were sad, though they showed no sign – it was not allowed.
"For my part, so much of my youth was spent in training, there was little time left to reflect upon the separation. And so when they were finally lost to me, it seemed no different than the passing of two strangers. Al Mualim had been as my father, and his was a weak and dishonest love, though at the time it seemed enough – better, even. Or so I thought.
"Someday I will have a child – such is the way of our Order. And I will not make the same mistake. Nor any who call themselves an Assassin. We shall be allowed to love our children – and, in turn, to be loved. Al Mualim believed such attachments would weaken us – cause us to falter when our lives were on the line. But if we truly fight for what is just, does love not make such sacrifice simpler – knowing that we do so for their gain?"
He immediately shared the passage with Claudia, and some of the others he had found of Altair talking about his sons, and the two talked for several hours about Federica and what her childhood would look like, dragging Ulderico into the mix when he returned from his duties.
It was after, however, that the captain of the guard and his old teacher took Ezio aside.
"I love you like a brother, Ezio," he said solemnly, "But you are not my wife, nor are you Claudia's husband. You don't have a right to have an opinion on how we raise our daughter, and you should just stay out of it. I don't want my little piccina to think she has two fathers, it would only confuse her."
That had hurt Ezio deeply, and he sought council with his mother soon after.
"You are very close," Maria said, "More so because of what has happened, and because I could not be there for you."
"Mother..."
"It is true, and saying it will not drive me back, Ezio," Maria said. "You have no children of your own, and so all of your attention is on Federica. It is not a bad thing, but you have your own life to live, and Ulderico fears you will supplant that life with your attention on her."
Ezio frowned, uncertain what he was supposed to do. Would Ulderico feel better if Ezio had his own child to focus on? That meant getting married, and Ezio couldn't bring himself to do it; Cristina and what he had done to her hurt too much, and he knew the life he lived wouldn't allow for a long, healthy relationship. He couldn't understand how his father had managed it, except that Giovanni had also been a banker. Maria talked a little of how their life had been - some memories were still hard for her to relive, and Ezio wasn't certain he got the entire picture. She had known of his heritage, that much she could say, and that watching him leave was a source of great anxiety for her. How could Ezio put a woman, a wife, through that? How could he put a child through that? He realized why his father had waited so long to tell his children of their heritage, and he realized not for the first time that he would never marry. It made him feel empty inside, hollow, and he buried himself in his painting; he finished the portrait of Marco Barbarigo in the span of a month, deliberately ignoring Federica's birthday in November and pushing through the painful nights of December. Claudia was furious with him, but he ignored her completely, not wanting to infringe on her life more than he already had.
So, in February, when Antonio sent a letter asking for help, Ezio happily packed his gear, donned Altair's armor and his sword, pulled up his black hood, and rode north to Venice.
He was more than slightly put out when Antonio introduced him to one Luis de Santangel, navigator of some sailor named Christoffa Corombo, and the navigator asked Ezio to be a bodyguard.
"You called me here for this?" he asked incredulously.
Antonio smirked. "Afraid it's below your talents?"
"No," Ezio said quickly, raising his hands in placation. "But I'm trying to find the Apple, the monk who took it."
"Ah, but you might like the assignment better when you realize that this Corombo is about to have a meeting with a certain Cardinal-Deacon."
Ezio immediately said yes to the assignment, and soon he was on the roofs of Venice, a rich blue Venetian cape given to him by Doge Agostino when he had, at last, gained his title warding off the archers, and followed the wayward sailor to the meeting with Rodrigo Borgia. After talking with Luis, Ezio learned that Corombo was looking to get to India in the most counterintuitive way possible - he wanted to go west to go east. While Ezio, after reading the Codex and Altair's observations about the world, had grudgingly come to believe that the earth was indeed round, he could not wrap his head around the benefit of going the long way around the earth to get Indian spices and trade. He decided that Corombo was an idiot incarnate, and the fact that he was meeting Borgia for funding only proved the point.
The point was driven home, moreover, when the meeting was a trap and Corombo was almost killed. Ezio swept in from above, saving the idiot and killing the brigands the Spaniard had hired, guiding him to safety. Luis was more than happy with the outcome, thanking Ezio greatly. Corombo left to find more funding, this time from Spain, and Luis pulled Ezio aside to inform him of his dismal prediction.
"Queen Isabella won't fund him," he said. "She's too busy with the Inquisition, killing the Moors and the Jews. Corombo is close to her finance minister, but he's a Jew, and Isabella is too fanatic to listen to either of them. I don't know yet if she's a Templar or not, but she's a butcher regardless, because of that damn Inquisition."
Ezio blinked, stiffening slightly. "... Templar?" he asked slowly.
Luis smiled, faintly. "Did you think Assassins only existed in Italia, Auditore? We're everywhere; and we're being slaughtered in Spain."
That shook Ezio right down to his core, he paced up and down Antonio's palazzo for several days, thinking about other assassins in the world, and what troubles they did or did not have. Did no one monitor everyone's movements? Did no one help each other? He went to Antonio soon after, explaining his concerns. "I know I'm supposed to look for the Apple, but I cannot leave fellow brothers in trouble. I don't want what happened to me to happen to others. I never knew I had allies to turn to, and I can't knowingly do the same to our brothers in Spain."
Antonio nodded, smiling and fingering his chin. "You do the Order proud, brother," he said, giving an aristocratic bow. "Go, I'll take up the search in your stead. Bartolomeo and Teodora will help, too. If nothing else, we'll eliminate the Republic of Venezia from your search."
"Thank you."
And so he wrote Claudia of his thoughts and concerns, his need to help others, and set sail to Spain, Barcelona, specifically. The second largest city in Spain, Barcelona was warmer than the chilly winters of Venice and Monteriggioni, and it was filled with guards who didn't like men in hoods, apparently. Ezio, trying to intercede in a dispute, was quickly labeled a Moor and chased off. Put out in the extreme, Ezio tried to keep a low profile after that, but was uncertain how to contact the Assassins of the city.
In proof, he did not have to worry. Three weeks after his arrival he was approached by a man by the name of Raphael Sanchez.
"I had heard an Italian Assassin was coming, I didn't think it would be the nephew of the Mentor," Sanchez said. Ezio blinked, surprised that his uncle had such a title, but kept his mouth shut for fear of sounding like an idiot who knew nothing (even though he certainly felt it). "I've been hearing things for years about your potential. Let's see if the rumors are true."
From Sanchez, Ezio learned quite a bit about the Spanish monarchy. Isabella was a devout Christian, and loathed the idea of heretics, Christians who claimed to be Christian but practiced Jewish or Islamic traditions. She, and others, was convinced that people were being led away from the "true faith," and the Inquisition began to correct such a grave error. Sanchez, Jewish himself and a finance minister to Isabella, was investigating her ties to the Templars and trying to determine if she was a Templar or a fanatic. A similar investigation was being done on the Inquisitor General, a man by the name of Tomas de Torquemada wait didn't we learn about this guy in a glyph so weird.
Their first priority was to save the Assassins, however, Sanchez explained that the entire brotherhood of the city had been systematically accused of heresy and imprisoned, and that similar feats were being done in other Spanish cities. With an army of two, Sanchez was doubtful of what they could accomplish, but Ezio quickly wormed his way into a courtesan house and enlisted their aide, along with bribing a few thieves, and soon created a plan of attack on one of the jailhouses. Sanchez was suitably impressed, and he lead the assault while Ezio worked his way to the upper balconies, finding the man in charge completely alone and confronting him.
"I hope we can speak without interruption, Signore. Who gave you the names of the imprisoned Assassins?"
"What do you mean 'Assassins'? Our dungeons are for heretics, not medieval phantoms!"
Ezio shook his head. "No... Your purge was too systematic to be coincidence."
But the man shrugged his shoulders, completely unrepentant. "Whoever those men claim to be, it won't matter after today. A public burning is about to commence for one of them. A willful young man."
Snarling, Ezio said, "If he dies, I will keep that fire burning until this town is a cinder." He killed the man with his hidden blade, twisting with the puncture to ensure the most damage, and raced back to Sanchez and the newly freed Assassins to explain the plight. Several public burnings were happening throughout the city, and together they created a quick and dirty plan to free them all, using the courtesans and thieves again, and creating diversions while the Assassins themselves freed every man and woman and child (Children! Even children!) tied to a stake from being roasted alive. The coup drove the city to chaos, and all the Assassins went deep underground to prevent causing further chaos. Sanchez disappeared altogether, going back to Isabella's court to maintain his cover.
He later sent a letter to Ezio, suggesting he go to a city called Zaragoza. Sanchez had discovered - but been unable to obtain - a list of all the assassins in the city to be captured and executed. Furious that the systematic destruction of the Order was still ongoing, Sanchez demanded Ezio learn as much as he could. Ezio heartily agreed, disturbed more and more that the Templars had managed to create such an atrocity and mask it so completely in another atrocity. He wanted to find someone who knew about the Templars, wanted to find out how this subterfuge and backroom dealings had occurred. His mind was heavy with these thoughts during the two-week trek to Zaragoza.
The Moorish city was resplendent, as Barcelona was, but the mood of the people contrasted sharply, they were dismal, fearful, and helpless. Ezio quickly looked up the man Sanchez had named as the Inquisitor in charge of the city, and Ezio spent almost a month assessing the man's stronghold before he was confident enough to sneak in. By then he had freed a small handful of Assassins, and had taught them how to use other guilds to build their strength. Satisfied that things were starting to play in his favor, Ezio snuck into the man's stronghold, working his way around guards and sticking to roofs and support beams and crossbeams.
Inside, he was surprised to find a meeting with the man and Torquemada himself. Torquemada was explaining why the list of names were so specific, and why there had been no accusations to nominate them for capture - the list came from Rodrigo Borgia himself, Cardinal-Deacon to the Pope, and most venerable and reliable source of information when it came to heretics. Ezio was sickened to hear it, and bothered that the Spaniard knew the inner workings of the Order so thoroughly as to know specific names of men in Spain. Did he have spies? Was there a traitor in the Spanish Order? Ezio was not certain, and was enraged when he saw an Assassin slaughtered in front of his eyes. He mourned the death, angry at himself that he could do nothing to blow his cover, could do nothing until one of those men was alone. He wanted Torquemada the most, connected as he was to the Borgia, but he was of course the one to leave first, and Ezio assassinated the man Sanchez had assigned him. He was another man ignorant of the Templars, and Ezio cursed that Borgia was so clever.
He sent a letter to Sanchez after that, explaining everything he had learned. He spent the entire summer traveling from city to city, freeing Assassins accused of heresy and assassinating the Inquisitors in charge of the city, learning over and over that they knew nothing of the Templars, and that they truly believed in their fanatic belief that the mass executions, burning at the stakes, were for the greater good. Ezio was sickened by the blind faith, and remembered Altair's words on it.
"I have studied the ancient pagan faiths that came before this more recent obsession with a single, divine creator. They seem to have focused more on the fundamental forces at play in the world around us and less on arbitrary moral rules...
"The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. The tides ebb and flow. Grass grows, withers, dies, and then in time, emerges from the ground once more. The air turns warm then cools and back again. Some hidden energy keeps us fitted to the ground and pulls us back when we attempt to leave it.
"Each of these movements was represented before by a god or goddess. Each force given face, but recognized as something distinct and powerful. Which is not to say there were not connections between these forces – a pantheon of individual spirits – of rules. Invisible hands guiding the progress of the world around us.
"And so here there was an attempt to categorize, study, explain, and understand the way things work – even if it was flawed. But no more. Now we are asked to succumb to a far more simplified explanation. How naive to believe there might be a single answer to every question. Every mystery. That there exists a lone divine light which rules over all. They say it is a light that brings truth and love. I say it is a light that blinds us – and forces us to stumble about in ignorance.
"I long for the day when men turn away from invisible monsters and once more embrace a more rational view of the world. But these new religions are so convenient – and promise such terrible punishment should one reject them – I worry that fear shall keep us stuck to what is surely the greatest lie ever told."
Ezio, frankly, was forced to agree. Raised a Christian, he could no longer ascribe to their notions, not if it created men like Torquemada or endorsed people like Borgia. Though Ezio believed in the Christ's message of peace and forgiveness, of helping the poor and the needy, he failed to see where these teaching existed in the modern church. Teodora's bordello did more to heal people and practice Christian traditions than anything he was witnessing in Spain. Whatever he thought of God, the Creator, he agreed with Altair on this: people needed to be educated, and Christian faith seemed more and more to advocate the opposite point of view.
It was almost the end of the year when Sanchez was able to break free of Isabella's court and meet up with Ezio in his latest city with news. Tomas de Torquemada had joined with Isabella in the war against the kingdom of Granada. He had also learned that the king, Muhammad XII, was captured in the city's fortress, Alhambra. Imprisoned as he was, he could not surrender, and doing so prevented the end of the war, and doing so drained the accounts of Isabella, and doing so prevented Corombo from setting sail. Ezio was confounded that the idiot from Venice had popped up again. Why was Borgia so hell-bent on preventing this guy from his counterintuitive sailing? Let the man sail; let him prove himself an idiot, if that's what he wanted. It was that kind of freedom the Assassin's encouraged - let a man learn from his own mistakes.
Sighing, the pair set off for the war torn city-state. For the next four months the two worked to execute the city commanders, freeing the citizens and helping to gain access to the fortress Alhambra. Eventually the two were able to sneak in and free Muhammad, and Ezio was quick to explain what all this was for.
"What madness is this?" the king demanded. "I'm to abdicate, surrender, so some idiot can receive funding to sail off the edge of the world?"
Ezio privately agreed with him, but Sanchez was much more pragmatic. "It's not about some sailor," he explained. "It's about the fact that Spain is now in the hands of fanatics. We're good, Signor, but we're not that good. We can't stop this juggernaut now that it's begun; the best we can hope for is to minimize the damages. Life is more important at this point than land, and peace is more important that pride."
Muhammad was furious, but in the end he saw sense, and on January second, Claudia's birthday, the last Muslim governed city surrendered to the Spanish crown.
That did not mean Ezio's work was finished, however. During their work in Granada, Ezio learned whom it was that had ordered the capture of all the Assassins in Barcelona in the beginning of the year. The Italian Assassin killed him, and two weeks later word spread of the Alhambra Decree.
Isabella and Ferdinand gave the Jews and the Moors three months to do one of three things: convert to Christianity, leave Spain wholesale, or die. That gave him until June to find Torquemada and ascertain once and for all if he was a Templar.
During his search, Sanchez also brought other news - far more personal to the Florentine: Lorenzo de' Medici had died. The news was a blow to Ezio, and he explained to Sanchez how Lorenzo was the patron of Florence, a man of great influence and benevolence, and how his focus had been so narrowly driven to the people he had neglected his other duties. He mourned the loss, and hoped that Lorenzo's successor would fill his large shoes.
By the end of May, Ezio had at last located Torquemada, and snuck into the man's palace to confront and kill him. Torquemada, as everyone else in Spain it seemed, was not a Templar but a fanatic, and after the many deaths of his Inquisitors had been prepared for Ezio's assault, managing to escape, much to Ezio great frustration and shame.
Sanchez consoled him, as did Luis de Santangel, who had come to report to Sanchez that Corombo had the finances - if he and Sanchez covered half the expenses - and they would set sail in August. Both Spanish Assassins told Ezio there was nothing more he could do, and that he had done more than his due, and that he would always have allies in Spain.
Author's Notes: A complaint on AC3: Why are the lumberers so hard to scan? Seriously, filling out the encyclopedia of the common man is such a PAIN because Terry and Godfrey spend more time freakin' FISHING than they do actual lumbering! We've been hanging around them for DAYS! Norris is just as bad, he never pans for gold! Grr! Er, well, besides that we've been spending our lovely holiday week replaying AC3 and of course enjoying ourselves immensely (Lumberers aside...). Congratulations to everyone on surviving the end of the world, and hopefully everyone had a happy holiday - which ever one we celebrated. Now, about this chapters:
Oh, look, we just put in another Another AC game - one we haven't played and know nothing about, we'd like to note. Our beta says it all came out fine, but it's the reviewers to get the final say. Suffice to say it was a pain to write.
A lot of little threads were touched on in this - and will continue to do so a we cover the Ten Year Gap. Claudia's plate is spun the most - we have a lot of territory to cover with her not only in terms of her life but especially her relationship with Ezio. We have Brotherhood to think about,and Claudia is Ezio's closest relative regardless in the course of his life. Mario and Lorenzo are touched on; Lorenzo's story finally ends and now we have the legacy to deal with, and we start to see what Ezio thinks of how the Order is run. So many plates to spiiiiiiin... This is why we hate the Ten Year Gap. Meh.
Still. Next chapter: a certain man becomes Pope, and the French invade Italy. Good stuff.