TMWolf: What on Earth!? Am I updated so soon?
Yes. Yes I am.
Because. I have, officially, finished this story.
No, this isn't the last chapter. Y'all have a good chunk more to go, but I always, always write ahead. It gives me room to plan, check back, and make sure everything is in order. But it's done. I wrote the epilogue not long ago. What this means is, well, for one, the story won't go forever sorry! xD And it also means updates will come more often and without long breaks like before so yay!
For now, though, y'all can sit back and enjoy the next chapter and many more to come. There's a decent road of recovery for 'Cat to come and plenty more adventures and fights to be had, so buckle up!
And a big thanks to all my readers and reviewers, this story exists thanks to you! :)
Now, the song for his chapter is from the Assassin's Creed Movie. A nice instrumental piece where only the title fits 'cause there's no lyrics xD
Enjoy!
P.S. Re-uploaded, because something was weird with it. Fixed, I believe.
22 – Leap of Faith
July 3, 1501
Rome, Italy
"He's eating so good. Look at him," Catherine chuckled as she gave her boy the bottle of goat's milk, which he sucked greedily. He even made grumbling sounds of annoyance when it fell away form his mouth before he clamped his tiny fingers around it once more. His eyes moved from the redhead to the dark-haired man beside her, both of whom looked down lovingly at the baby.
"Good—a big appetite means he'll grow strong," Ezio chuckled, bringing an arm to drape across the top of the couch in the study, his hand lingering on his wife's shoulders. He lifted it up to touch her cheek gently, though. "How are you feeling, by the way? I could tell you were tossing and turning last night."
She smiled, albeit a bit sadly, "Just… bad dreams. I think. I don't remember them—just that… I was restless."
"You'll… be alright?" he asked, this time softly. She looked to him and saw the underlying meaning. In some ways, the notion hurt, and in others, she knew it was called for. Her "recovery" had been drastic and sudden with no clear indication she was truly healed. Even after a few days she doubted herself at times and wondered what might set her back—if she would go bac—and if she could stop it. So far, she had kept strong. At most, there was just quiet whispers like a feeling of nostalgia, but then she would have someone with her and they would stop. Her children and Ezio helped the most, and it was really only when she was utterly alone or in the darkest hours of the night that she swore she might slip at any moment. But she never did. She remained herself—with clarity. And the guilt. It gnawed at her even when she wasn't consciously aware of it, and always she wondered if she might ever begin to repay for her sins.
"Yes—I think so."
"'Cat," he replied, tone urging her to say what she wasn't.
She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder, "I just… worry. I don't want to go back to how I was. I'm afraid I will. I don't always feel strong enough. I worry over what I've done and how to fix it all… some I can't. And others…"
"Like what?" he asked, but she knew he already knew. For the most part.
"I guess… well, the recruits, for one. I was so hard on them… I mean, it wasn't… bad. Kind of. But… I was teaching them to be violent—dangerous."
Ezio chuckled, kissing her forehead, "Well, I can assure you that won't be a problem. Ah, now, now, I'm being serious. In fact, you'll see. I sent word out for them to return tomorrow. You'll see then."
"O… kay," the redhead mused, raising a brow now that she was upright and could face him proper. Mario gurgled some, whining as his bottle emptied. He began to make short cries, unhappy with his lack of meal and his belly being rather full. Catherine chuckled, shifting him so could rub and pat his back lightly. She sighed as she returned her thoughts to the topic at hand. "There were our targets, too—and Micheletto… I hate him. I know I do. When I think about him I hate everything about him and want him to die… but how I was…
She paused to look at Ezio for a moment, then the ground, "I don't think I deserve to be an Assassin anymore."
"Catherine—," Ezio started, but she reached over with her free hand to grasp his, smiling weakly.
"An Assassin wouldn't do what I did. I betrayed what we stood for, and I did it willingly, no matter why I became what I did… and even now I worry… can I control myself in the future? If I come to face Micheletto again, will I keep my composure? Or will I want to torture him slowly, so he suffers as much as I wish he could? And what of Cesare? Could I end him quickly? Or would I cut him bit by bit until he begs me to die, but then I'd let him bleed and starve and thirst and die slow? I can't lie and say I don't wish for it… and I worry I couldn't keep from doing it. I worry you couldn't stop me from it, and that means I can't trust myself—not as an Assassin."
"…Is this what you really want? You're certain?" he asked softly.
"Yes. I mean, your lack of assuring me otherwise says a lot so, yeah… Or, well… I guess I don't know what I want?" she chucked ruefully. "I just… don't think I can hunt down targets. Not until I earn my place in the Order again. But… I'd still like to teach the recruits and help. The Order has been my life pretty much. I may not kill anyone—not for a long while, anyways—but… I want to at least make sure our new Brothers and Sisters follow the right path."
Ezio sighed deeply, quiet for a moment before he replied, "I think this new path is the right one… until you feel you are ready. The Order needs you—not unlike how we all do. I will sorely miss your prowess on the hunt."
"Oh, please. You've done fine without me so far. Besides, last time I helped out I nearly got one of our own killed."
"Catherine, you were… different then."
"I was… but I still consciously did it, and I have to embrace it. I'm… ashamed of it, but I can't deny I did it willingly. Our Assassins were hurt and could have been killed because of my madness."
Her husband frowned, "No—you didn't put them in danger."
"But—," she began to counter, but closed her mouth when he raised his hand for her to do so.
"We have a traitor among us. You remember?"
"I… Oh. Yes. I do. Or… a little. I didn't focus much on it," Catherine mused, lip turned downward. She met Ezio's gaze uneasily. "So… it's true then? We've been betrayed? But by who? None of the recruits. They wouldn't."
"No, it's not them. It's… well, I'm not sure. Volpe thinks it's Machiavelli—"
"What!? But—why? Machiavelli is our best and most loyal ally!" the redhead rasped, leaning forward, but then pulled back when Mario made an uncomfortable sound. She quickly hushed him with gentle cooing as Ezio sighed, rubbing his face.
"I admit… Machiavelli has been… secretive as of late. He has made unusual moves, but, like you, I am incredulous of Volpe's claims. He is convinced, though, and I cannot ignore his concerns. Volpe loathes the Borgia too much to betray us, Claudia is family, and Bartolomeo, while a mercenary, is as loyal as they come and wants to rip Cesare's heart out. Which means I have no idea who the traitor could be, and I don't know how much information they're able to glean from us. I've tried keeping a tighter network and so far, it's worked—some, but…"
"It's… troublesome. Do you know how long we've had one?"
"Since the attack on the Villa."
"What!?" she balked, and again Mario fussed.
Ezio grimaced, "It explains how the Borgia knew how to get the drop on us… You were taken, but… they knew how to come by the Sanctuary passages. Someone let them through there. They also knew to come around to try and take us. Someone betrayed us at our home… and they're still among us."
"What's the plan?" Catherine asked tentatively. Her husband sighed, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees and his chin against his interlaced fingers.
"It's hard to say… So far I'm relying on Volpe to keep eyes and ears open—yes, I know, only probably helps him 'find' things against Machiavelli, but he's our best bet for information—but otherwise… it's been difficult to do much. Not to mention, you were training the recruits, and I've been working to take down Borgia influence and their agents. Roma is vast, and our enemy is tenacious. With Cesare away, though, it may become easier. Perhaps. I don't even really know who to look for or how."
"Should we tell Machiavelli?"
"No… he's busy enough as it is keeping us safe in the court and he's been our spy there already. And I don't want to, ah, insult him, truth be told. I don't want to cause a rift, either. Volpe would be furious, and Machiavelli would probably say something to make it worse and—."
"—Ezio, it's okay. We won't say anything… but we'll have to be more careful from now on with how we run things—especially now that our recruits can go out on their own now."
"…You're right. And, actually, having them go after targets or Borgia soldiers will free up time to find this traitor—and spend some of it with my son," he chuckled, reaching over to stroke Mario's head gently as the babe whimpered unhappily.
"We both can. He's over a year now, and we missed all that time… he's probably going to start walking soon, like Diana did," Catherine laughed, but it was weak, and the pain lingered in the echo. "We have to protect him—both of them. Now more than ever. We must find this traitor and take down the Borgia, so they never have to suffer like we did. Diana and Mario have to grow up safe and strong and live whatever life they want, be it an Assassin or nobleman or banker or—or whatever they want."
"Yes… yes, we will give them that life—the one we couldn't have. The choice we couldn't have," Ezio smiled, reaching up to cup his wife's face. She leaned into it, returning his expression. "And I'll be there—to make sure you have the life we fought for. I won't let you go back. I won't nearly lose you a third time."
"What did I do to deserve you?" Catherine murmured softly.
Ezio leaned closer, placing a chaste kiss on her lips, "By granting me the honor of being your husband."
"Such a romantic," she snickered, and he grinned like an imp.
"You love it."
"I do."
The sound of an underground portal closing stole the attention of the couple, and they looked through the entryway of the study to the main hallway. It took a moment, but the all-too-familiar face of Machiavelli appeared in their sights. He paused when he noticed they were there, but then made quick work of the distance between them. He paused again as he realized Mario was in their arms and smiled gently. It was almost enough to surprise the two, having never seen the nobleman express himself in such a way. He glanced at them, no doubt seeing their looks, and coughed.
"My apologies, I did not mean to disturb your time with your son. Congratulations, as well—both on his birth, return, and good health. I see you look to be in better spirits as well, my Lady," he spoke, bowing his head politely.
"Machiavelli, please, you can call me Catherine," the redhead chuckled and motioned him closer. "Come, you can meet him. I promise he is tamer than Diana."
"Oh, no doubt, although she was a delight to have in my home, truly," Niccolò chuckled, venturing closer. He admired the babe for a moment, an odd, yet calm look about him. It was an expression the redhead had never seen upon his face but was reminded of when Ezio had looked upon Diana for the first time. "He is a strong boy. He takes after his father, I see."
"You sound worried," Ezio smirked.
Niccolò raised a brow, "I have dealt with you just fine, have I not?"
"Ah, your words wound me, my friend."
"Luckily it takes more than that to kill you, no?"
"Now, now, gentleman. You're setting a bad example. So, what do we owe the pleasure?" Catherine chuckled, nudging her husband gently to end his shenanigans.
"Truthfully, I came to see the state of things. I had to keep it brief the night you returned, but now that things have settled down in the court a bit I managed to make my way here. How is Caterina, by the way?"
"She is healing well and plans to return home as soon as she can to reclaim her home. Thank-you for the extra help, by the way—our maid is already busy with Diana, although the Lady Sforza is capable is on her own, but…"
"Of course. I would offer to move her to my home, but… I fear she would not go unnoticed like your daughter. She is safest here," Niccolò nodded, then looked to Catherine. "And what of you? You were…"
"Having a moment, yes. I'm better now, though. And ready to continue the fight—although I intend to remain here as the Mentor for new recruits. It would be best—to prevent further mistakes and keep me near my children. I'd rather not leave Mario to the maids, and I only ask you forgive me for my selfishness."
"No need; there is nothing to forgive. You have done well as their Mentor, and there will surely be more recruits in the future. The Order has need of a person such as yourself—a fellow Assassin to show them the proper way."
The redhead chuckled, "Well, I'm not quite an Assassin anymore—just a teacher. I… have renounced the title—myself. I don't feel worthy of it right now, but I am loyal to the Order and my husband and my allies. I'll do my part to earn my place."
"This is… unexpected," Niccolò mused, glancing to Ezio, whom nodded. The Lord Auditore took his wife's free hand in his, squeezing.
"It is her choice, and I believe it the right one. She will remain to train new recruits while we have our Assassins run missions with me or on their own. There is still much work to be done against the Borgia."
"Indeed… Well, perhaps I may be of assistance to help further your work," he replied, though paused as he regarded the child. "If this a good time, of course."
"No, it's fine. He's falling asleep anyways, look," Catherine chuckled, turning Mario some, whom was making soft sounds as he breathed in and out slowly. Machiavelli smiled gently before motioning for them to follow him. They came to the large table in a corner of the main hall where a city map was set.
"If you would allow, I have drafted a means of communication for you and your recruits—ah, forgive me, your Assassins. You can send orders via carrier pigeon or, if you would like, your sister and the others could send them to you as well."
"What if the enemy finds out?"
"The pigeons are trained to come to very specific calls, and their coops are in inconspicuous locations. I will foolproof it further if I can, and perhaps we can even create a cipher of some sorts."
"That might be good—but one we can easily change and rememorize. If possible, but… the idea is a good one. This will make sending out our Assassins much easier, and they won't need to remain cooped up here if they don't wish it," Catherine nodded, smiling as she shifted her babe some.
"Thank-you, Machiavelli. You have helped us yet again," Ezio chuckled, grasping the nobleman's shoulder gently.
Niccolò nodded, "Of course. I am more than happy to be of service to those who serve this city as you do. You are making good work. The Borgia are weakening, but it will still take some time before they completely break."
"We need to do more then—hit more of his weak points. We took his prisoner, so he can no longer sway Forli once we send them word of Caterina's rescue," the redhead mused, glancing down at the map, taking in all its scrawled notes. "We need to eventually draw him back to the city, too. He's out campaigning, and he has no reason to return yet. He has his 'generals' to face us, so he doesn't have to worry."
"'Generals'?"
Ezio frowned, "Yes… One of them was the French general, I believe, Micheletto, and another—a cardinal by the red cowl. I don't know who he is, though… but being rid of them will do more than lure Cesare back. The defeat of the Frenchman will grant Bartolomeo relief.
"Not to mention, they guard the way of Cesare's return. Without them there, you can reach him," Machiavelli mused, rubbing his chin.
Catherine frowned, "Micheletto… is dangerous and not always around. Taking him down will be trickier, I think. And the Cardinal… I don't have any ideas, and I doubt we can get into the Vaticano to take him down so easily. Damn… Not many options… what other things we can we cut from Cesare?"
Their comrade gestured, "Their finances would be a good start—a campaign is not run by soldiers and charisma alone. Coin has paved the way the way for all conquests. If you find who funds the Borgia, you will greatly diminish his reach."
"We'll need to have Volpe or Claudia check around then—they're the best bet to find that out," Catherine mused, looking up to her husband. "You should go see them."
"I can see tothe thieves, but perhaps you should meet with Claudia."
She rolled her eyes, "No, you will see both. Stop avoiding her. I may not have been in a good place before now, but I did notice you two. Go make up already."
"I don't know what you mean," Ezio huffed, making a point to not look at his wife. Machiavelli raised a brow but send nothing.
"Uh-huh. Well, it's probably better to get going now than later—we can't afford to give Cesare anymore time."
He looked to her sharply, reaching to touch her hand tenderly, "Are you sure you don't want more time…?"
"I would love to have all the time in the world, but… I'll make do to take what moments I can with my children—and you, of course," she chuckled, grinning at her husband. "But we're at war. Cesare aims to conquer the world if he can, and the longer we sit around, even if it's for family, the longer that bastard roams free and hurts more innocents."
"I do not doubt you will manage, what with your recruits to do many missions for you. But... I concur. There is little time to spare—even for our loved ones. But it is also good to do so, when you can," Niccolò hummed.
Ezio sighed, but nodded and kissed Catherine's forehead, "Alright… I'll head out. I can gather up the Assassins, too. We will need to talk about the new system and prepare them for what's to come. I'll be back by dinner… try to keep the children out of trouble."
She scoffed, "Please. You're the one that has to be told that."
Her husband winked, snickering like the imp he was. He leaned forward, though this time to kiss his son's brow, and then bid their comrade farewell before heading up the nearby stairs to adorn his gear. Wouldn't be wise to go out and about in the city without it, especially when on Assassin business. That, and the city was still a little on edge.
"You look well," Niccolò spoke suddenly, breaking the redhead's stupor. She blinked, then smiled and nodded.
"Yeah. I'm better. Or I'm trying to be. It was… difficult—what happened, but… that's no excuse, of course, for what I did, but… I'm getting there. I'm wary of things, but I have good friends and family, and my children now."
"I am glad—for you, of course, and that you were able to retrieve your son safely. It was quite the feet you two pulled. Every day I am surprised by the miracles you two perform."
"Ha! I guess it seems that way, but, really… I almost screwed it up, but… actually, I had help—sort of. A maid—who never gave me her name, I just realized—and Giovanni Borgia."
"Giovanni… Borgia? That… Ah, that is Cesare's son, no?"
She nodded, "Yes. He was Mario's big brother for a little while. He looked after him, and the maid looked after both. She was… She was there when I gave birth, too. She helped me keep him—for a few days. It didn't spare me, but… she tried. And later—when I was in their prison. She gave me a draught to prevent pregnancy. She knew what would happen to me and helped. She was my only ally then, and also now. She's even helping still—although, for Giovanni. He wants to leave, but not yet. I worry for him, though. He's… that place is not good for him, but he's not ready… The maid said she would get word to us somehow. I have no idea how, but I have a feeling she'll manage
Catherine paused, realizing she'd been speaking so much and laughed, "Forgive me, Machiavelli. I rambled there a bit, didn't I? It just… I'm a bit shocked she was so willing to help me."
"It is because she is my spy."
The redhead visible balked, even almost tripping as she had made to turn. She caught herself, though, and thankfully didn't startle her little Mario. She did drop her jaw as she looked to the nobleman, whom smiled both wryly and sadly. She could tell it wasn't a lie, although she knew Niccolò wasn't a man to do so—not without purpose. That, or he withheld the truth, and so she did not doubt his words. The shock was deep, though, and her thoughts ran with the notion.
"Did… did you know I was…?" she breathed, and he sighed.
"Not until it was too late. My maid only got word of confirmation you were there the same time Ezio did, and she was unable to send word of what had happened to you until after you were gone. I did not feel it would do any good to tell your husband what he already knew. Unfortunately, she did not know where you had been taken, so there was naught that could be done. I am sorry I could not act sooner, my Lady. If I had—if word could have reached me sooner…" he rasped, gaze falling, and she could see his arms shake from where he had them behind his back, hands clasped.
She sighed this time, "It's alright, Niccolò. I know you do all you can. She was in a precarious position anyways."
"Ensuring she was taken on as your maid was difficult enough," the nobleman hummed. "But ensuring she remain in the good graces of the Borgia? Remain close to Lucrezia and the child to learn their most intimate secrets? She could not risk even letting you know. In fact, until now, she, myself, and my… special informant were the only ones privy to such knowledge. It has done well, though, and proven useful. She knew to be ready for you the night you came, and when the boy—Giovanni Borgia—wishes to leave… I will know."
"Tell me the moment you do. I swore to him I would get him out… and I won't break it. He was one of the few truly kind people in that place."
"Consider it done—if only to repay you for what I failed to do."
"You are more kind than you let on you know," Catherine chuckled, reaching over to touch his arm gently. He looked to her, a bit surprised, and a bit relieved. "I understand why you did and have done what you did. I wish she could have done more, but she has done enough, keeping my boy safe. What's in the past remains there, though, and now we just have to do our best to ensure all of the suffering and steps we've taken won't be wasted."
"Wise words. No wonder your husband has become so smart," Machiavelli hummed, a sly twinkle in his eyes. The redhead laughed, lightly swatting his shoulder.
"I'll be sure to not tell him you said that even if he knows it already. Anyways, it's about time I put Mario down for his nap and make sure Ezio has everything he needs. You're welcome to visit Diana if you like, and… thank-you—for everything. You're a true friend, Niccolò."
"As are you, Catherine. Both of you. I look forward to seeing Roma return to its true glory. Until then, let the little Lady know I will visit in the coming week—I fear my duties call to me still," he hummed, almost reluctantly, and bowed to the young woman. "Farewell, my Lady. And safety and peace to you and your family."
"And to you," Catherine smiled, bowing her head in kind. The nobleman departed then, slipping from the hideout the same way he had come. Behind him trailed the revelation he'd dropped on her. In a way, it made a great deal of sense, and others made so many more questions. A part of her wanted to hate him for not acting sooner, but it was a selfish part of her that had been hurt deeply by the enemy, but that wasn't her anymore. It couldn't be her anymore. Besides, he had his reasons—good ones. A spy couldn't save her like she hoped. The woman had to remain and ensure the information got through safely. She'd had a role to play, and it wasn't to help her more than she had, and Catherine knew she had to be satisfied with it.
In time, she would do so easily. For now, she forced herself to be content and smiled at the way her comrade had gone. He was a good man deep down, and although La Volpe did not trust him, Catherine knew she did. Yes, Niccolò Machiavelli was a good man, and one of the best allies of the Assassins.
"Alright, let's get you upstairs to bed, mm?" the redhead cooed to her child, gently tapping his nose so that he scrunched it, rumbling with might have been annoyance. She chuckled, tucking him closer to her and ventured up the flights of stairs to her and Ezio's room. Her husband was there, and he was just about done adorning his attire, only his bracers and weapons remaining. He paused when she entered, but smile warmly, and held his arm out for her to come. She smiled back and happily entered his half-embrace, accepting another kiss despite having received one only minutes ago.
"All set?" she asked, tilting her head a little.
He nodded, "Yes. I'll speak with Volpe…. And, yes, I will go see my sister. I still don't approve of what she's doing. It's dangerous."
"You're being a hypocrite."
He startled, as if struck, "What? No! I'm not. It's too dangerous for her! We're trained killers. She is a proper lady."
"Oh, thanks," the redhead snorted, then laughed as her husband made a disgruntled face. "I'm kidding. And, you know, if you gave Claudia the chance, she could show you there's more to her than you think. Besides, she has Federico with her now. I doubt she'll let him run off to join his brother, so she has a good sword to help her. Or, well, hopefully. He might become the favorite of the ladies instead. Takes after his Uncle in that way."
"…We're married with two children and you still bring that back up?"
"As your wife I'm allowed and expected to. Just like you tease about me being stubborn and silly and worse still. Now," she grinned, reaching up to pull him down for a much sincerer kiss. "Be back on time for dinner, and bring your sister, mother, and nephew with you. It'll be the first one we have as a proper family. Well, Giovanni won't be there, but he's busy. But you know what I mean."
Ezio chuckled, taking her chin in his hand, "I do. And I look forward to it. Enjoy your day with Diana and Mario."
One final kiss, a little bit of help with his bracer after Mario was set on the bed, and he was ready to go. He was reluctant to do so, but she bade him on, and the redheaded woman was left to her own devices. She brought Mario back into her arms, humming softly as she rocked him a little. He made a pleased sound before settling into an easy slumber. It was soothing to her as well, and she enjoyed the little bit of peace she could take from it.
Yet, even in the calming quiet, she swore she heard a sound—a whisper, not of her own. She paused, confused, and turned, but there was no one there.
There was only her, the sleeping child in her arms, and—
The mask.
Catherine stared at it, her chest tightening. A cold trickle went down to her belly, and for a moment, she thought it had been an illusion. But then—a hushed sound.
She didn't look back as she flew from the room, Mario tucked safely in her arms, forcing herself to pretend it never happened and lose herself in the company of her daughter.
22 – End
TMWolf: Not a super long chapter by any means, but an important one in its own right. Plenty of revelations, too! Like Machiavelli's spy being the maid! :) Yep, I had that planned since the beginning, which is why she was so helpful and continues to be!
Now, for other important bits: Cat is semi-retiring from the Assassins, but just the main killing work. She is still going to train recruits and run missions, but she is no longer going to do the killing because she doesn't trust herself right now. Not yet-and for good reason.
Seems demons still lurk...
But that's all for now, so until next update! :)