TMWolf: So. How about them faster updated, eh? xD I'm trying to make sure I remember in a more timely manner, haha. But man! Almost done with the story! There's about four more chapters left including the epilogue! Can you believe it? The darkest chapter in Catherine (and Ezio's) story is almost over! And still got plenty of crazy to go!

As usual, I try to stick to canon as much as possible as it relates to my story, as it's definitely gone AU in spots xD

Thank-you for your reviews and reads! I always love hearing your thoughts and I'm glad people are enjoying the story :)

So, this chapter's song is a soundtrack one from the Netflix anime Devilman Crybaby - Strategist. If you want one F'd up, crazy, amazing, gory, mature, hard-core, awesome short series (like 10 episodes I think? Maybe a little more) about Devils and basically things going to hell... it's good. Also, the soundtrack is *amazing*. I'm in love with it. It's such good techno mixed with other music. The animation is great, too. But is is rated R for a very, very, good reason xD

But yeah! So, time for the next chapter-gonna kill a Frenchman ;)

28 – Strategist

August 10, 1503

Roma, Italy

Catherine held out her arms wide, smile bright, "Leonardo!"

"Catherine, my dear!" the artist exclaimed, embracing his friend tightly. She did the same, laughing with delight. He pulled away to regard her warmly, cupping the side of her face in his hand. "Ah, you look absolutely radiant today!"

"Oh, you're such a flirt," she teased. "Besides, I'm hardly picture worthy now with these scars."

"And you are too humble. You are beautiful, Catherine, and if I must have Ezio come convince you I will!"

"Don't worry, he does every chance he gets. Besides, you're here to come see the kids, not butter me up. Diana's missed you and I want Mario to get to know you more, too. He's smart—and very creative already. Oh, and there's someone else you need to meet, too. A new member of the family."

"'New member'? Were you with child and did not tell me?" he inquired, taking her arm in his as she made up the nearby stairwell.

The redhead laughed, "No, definitely not. It's more of an… adoption. Sort of. He helped me when I was a prisoner of the Borgia, and he helped look after Mario. I asked him to come with me when we rescued my son and the others, but he refused at that point, so I told him to send word if he ever wanted out. He did just not long ago, and now he's here, a part of the Brotherhood. It's been about a week now."

"Wait—is this… no, no… you could not… er… Catherine," Leonardo frowned, his puzzlement palpable. He gestured, "Is this… person a… child?"

She laughed again, "Yes, we he is. Hold on, you'll see."

The artist raised a brow as the redhead lead him to the children's rooms. She knew they'd all be in Diana and Mario's shared chambers—Giovanni was the one right next door—and so only knocked to let them know she was coming and pushed the door open. She left her friend there at the entrance, waltzing right on in. The young trio were sat upon the bed, showing off yet another book the younger Mario. Both Diana and Giovanni enjoyed reading to him and teaching him the words and even to write. They liked to learn how to fight together, too, although Mario was still too young for that, but Giovanni was as eager to master the moves as her daughter had. They made quite the pair in training, and if it wasn't known the older boy was a Borgia, anyone would have thought they were all siblings.

"Guess who's here?" she called out, and all three looked up. Diana gasped with delight and rushed over, practically tackling the artist.

"Leeeeooooooo! I missed you! It has been too long! You cannot stay away for months! It is not nice!" she pouted, tugging on his shirt.

The artist chuckled, patting her head, "My apologies, my dear. I do not mean to. My, ah, 'employer' keeps me busy."

"Oh! You—you are the man Papa asked to make things for him," Giovanni suddenly spoke, and Catherine saw Leonardo make a strange face, his expression torn between realization and perhaps worry.

"And you are… Giovanni. Borgia," he replied, glancing to the redhead, whom smiled. "I… Goodness, I admit I am very surprised to see you here."

"As am I… I did not know you were an Assassin, too," the young man went on, coming forward to stand closer and bowed his head. "It is good to see you are well. Papa always spoke highly of you."

"Yes, I suppose he would… My goodness! Catherine, what on Earth?"

"Remember the story I told you? Well… Giovanni was who it was about. Don't worry. He's safe here, and he's training to become one of us—just like Diana. It was the least I could do."

"I will become strong and help fight against my Papa. He is not a good man, Sir da Vinci. And I wish to protect Mario. So, I will fight."

"You are very brave then, Giovanni. I wish you all the best," Leonardo smiled, touching his shoulder gently. He looked to Diana after, smiling warmly, "You grow every time I see you. You look more like your mother every day, too."

She beamed, "Good! I am going to be as strong as Mama one day! And Papa, too!"

"Speaking of… where is Ezio? I thought he would be here. I had some of the new equipment he wanted, and I hoped to hear news of the War Machines."

"Don't worry, he's on the way back. He was visiting Maria and Claudia briefly. And, yes, he has good news—the flying machine is destroyed."

"Oh, excellent! Well then… I suppose I should do what I came here for and see if Diana here would like to have another art lesson?" the older man inquired, and the young girl's eyes lit up.

"Yes! I love your lessons! Giovanni, you, too! Leonardo is the best! And we must teach Mario! He will love it, too!"

"Go ahead. I need to see to the recruits' missions anyways. Giovanni, do you want to stay and learn, too?" Catherine inquired, meeting the young man's gaze.

He thought for a moment before nodding, "I do. Sir da Vinci has very nice work. I would not mind learning."

"Then I will see to them for a while—I have a few hours before I must return," Leonardo nodded back. He glanced to the redhead, "The usual place?"

"Yep. We make sure to keep the study stocked with materials for practice. Anyways, you guys have fun alright? Take care of your little brother," Catherine chuckled as she set Mario onto the ground and gave him a quick kiss on the head. She gave Diana the same, and ruffled Giovanni's hair playfully. "And if they get a little out of hand, just come get me, Leo. I'll wrangle them in line."

"I appreciate it. Now, go on," the artist grinned, and Catherine left them be.

She sauntered her way back down to the main floor—her friend and children would follow soon enough—and then made for the basement. She'd left her recruits training while she greeted her long-time friend, and so was glad to see them still hard at work. As it stood, she has about ten in-training, and close to twelve working in Roma at the moment. She had even more spread around Europe and even in India working in various Orders. Of her originals, only Piero and Giotto remained. The others had spread off into other parts of Italia to establish more branches, and now new members here took their place. Occasionally her former recruits—now Masters themselves—sent men and women to her to train, but mostly they found willing denizens throughout the city.

Regardless, the Order was thriving, and she almost couldn't believe it. Yet, here she was, watching them spar with swords and fists, and they were doing good. Very good.

It made her wonder what Mario would think—what the man who forged her into the Assassin she was say? Would he be proud? Would he commend her? Or would he condemn? The notion haunted her at times, but in these moments, she was sure he was happy with what they had done.

Her students paused when she came to her viewing spot, but she waved them on. She missed nothing; every punch and kick was noticed; every slash and dodge was observed; every slip and triumph was seen. Her students were strong and brave and worthy of taking up the Assassin mantle. The Order would thrive under them, and she was honored to be their teacher.

"Well, well… quite the smile on your face."

Catherine chuckled as she turned to find her husband suddenly near her, but not so much so she noticed him right away. He'd taken that up lately—surprising her. She enjoyed it, of course, and happily gave him a "hello" kiss as he settled in beside her. A few of the recruits paused to glance at the "Head" of the Order. Her husband was rather famous after all he'd done, even if the recruits did their part, too. Still, it was Ezio who did most of the big kills and went off to destroy Cesare's army. Her Ezio was doing a special kind of good in the world, and she was honored to support him, and—sometimes—help him directly. Ever since the Banker's death she'd felt more ready to return to proper Assassin work, but not just yet. The Banker was a good test, but it was still a test. She'd need to pass more trials before she was truly ready.

"They're doing well. We'll have more inductees soon… and Leonardo got to meet Giovanni. They're learning art as we speak."

"That's good to hear. Did you tell Leonardo about his creations?"

She nodded, "Yep. He's happy—and he has gifts for you. But wait until after he's done with the kids. They could use a break, and I think he could, too."

"I think we could use a break," he snickered, arm reaching over to pat her rump playfully. She gave him a look, but laughed, too.

"Maybe later. Right now we have to be proper adults," she hummed and motioned to the recruits. "I'll probably send those on the right on missions soon… maybe even send some to England for Jacopo and Alessandra. They're doing okay, but more couldn't hurt."

"Do what you think is right—you've got this business down."

"What can I say? I managed you and Diana—and now Mario. I think I can manage some Assassin business."

"'Managed' me? Tsk. You're asking for trouble you know."

She grinned, "I know. Anyways, how's your side of things?"

"Well you know about the War Machines… Claudia and Mother are doing well, although they're keeping low after the attack. Mother is a bit… worried. Or she seems like it. Tired, too. She was about to retire to bed when I visited, anyways. I think everything is just wearing down on her, but she's keeping strong. Volpe hasn't said much. He's still… not at ease with Machiavelli, but he has no proof of his concerns. He keeps me updated on Borgia movements. And Bartolomeo… well, truth be told I have not heard from him lately. Giovanni is alright, I know—he makes sure to send pigeons to Claudia, so I imagine things are alright."

"Uh, you sure?" Catherine inquired, having caught sight of movement at the stairs. She pointed to the approaching figure of the very nephew her husband spoke of. He didn't look hurt, but his expression was grim. Ezio turned, and his shoulders slumped. Catherine touched his arm gently before looking to her recruits, "Keep at it, you lot! We'll be back in a bit and you better be going as hard as you can!"

There were a few groans of protest, but they soon became grunts of exertion as the recruits went back to it. Things all set, Catherine followed her husband and nephew towards a back room in the lower floor. There Giovanni's face grew darker, and he even let out a deep sigh that made his shoulders sag weakly.

"Uncle… Aunt… Bartolomeo needs help."

Ezio 's brows furrowed, "What do you mean? I thought things were going well?"

"Against the Borgia—yes. But… the problem is the French. They're growing increasingly difficult, and, though he will never admit it, the Commander is losing. He will lose if we don't do something different, but he's so damned stubborn! I'm worried, so… I was, well, hoping you two could come and talk sense to him. I barely managed to get away—and even now I'm worried being gone so long. The French have been attacking us off and on so much that we always have to be prepared," he spilled, shoulders going lower and lower as the weight on them grew heavier and heavier. Ezio grasped one of the burdened shoulders gently, giving a similarly gentle smile. It helped—albeit only a little, but it still helped.

"Don't worry, Nephew. We'll speak with Bartolomeo and get to the bottom of things—perhaps turn the tide."

"Best let me give him the stern talking. He'll take it as insult from you two," Catherine hummed, shaking her head. "I'm surprised his wife hasn't been urging him to change tactics."

"He's had her staying at a safer place outside the barracks, but she does send letters. Although, they've been less as of late. That, or he's just not taking them at all. I think he sent for her to come back to the barracks, though—to keep her better protected."

Ezio rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Well, we cannot do much here. Catherine, go ahead and end training for today… and bring some of our master Assassins. We may need them."

"We have five here at the fortress as it stands, but I'd like to bring a few of the recruits who are almost done training. They can prove if they're ready or not," the redhead nodded, then turned her gaze to the young man before them. "We'll meet you by the stables. Oh, and go say hello to Diana and Mario—she's missed you. And you can meet our other Giovanni."

The young Auditore raised a brow, "Will do. Although, I hope I'm not being replaced."

"Hardly, my boy!" Ezio laughed, clapping his back. "You'll always be me favorite 'Giovanni', now go on. We'll see you soon."

His nephew chuckled back—it was hardly genuine—with a nod and trotted off, leaving the two Assassins alone. They exchanged looks before the redhead sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Well, looks like things are getting a bit complicated. You sure I should come along on this one? We may end up taking out our French general it sounds like."

Ezio chuckled, "Of course. But do you think you should come along?"

The redhead grew quiet, mulling on the question. Should she come along? She'd not faltered against the Banker, and he had been a major target. Surely, she could do it again? But what if she couldn't? What if she stepped back instead of forward?

In the end, she smiled with a half-laugh. Mario has always told her she thought too much—as had others—and even in death he was right. There was no knowing an answer unless she moved to grab it herself, and she would never get better if she cowered away. So, she looked to husband, nodding.

"Yes, I'll come. You'll need someone covering your ass anyways—since you'll have to watch Bartolomeo's."

"Indeed I will! Not the one I want to watch, though," he laughed before stealing a kiss. "Well then, let's get going. Time to visit an old friend a visit…"

-O-

Things were not going well.

The cannon fire and sounds of fighting reached them long before they came to the compound that was Bartolomeo's Barracks. It didn't look as good as the last time she'd been here, which had probably been months with how busy she'd been. The walls were worn down and, in some places, cracked or broken—no doubt by cannons. The main building within looks alright, but it was still worrisome. The sight of haggard mercenaries was even more so, and seeing Bartolomeo pacing with sword drawn at the open gate only made it worse.

Catherine shared a look with her husband and then Giovanni as they dismounted outside the gate. Her Assassins she'd brought with her did the same, waiting diligently for a command. The redhead bade them stay put while she and her family came closer. If she hadn't been worried yet—which she was—she definitely was when the mercenary commander spun as he heard their steps and thrust his blade at them.

"Who goes there!?" he snapped, voice edgy.

Ezio held out a hand for peace, "Hello to you, too."

"Ezio!" he exclaimed, his demeanor flipping as he sheathed his sword. His grin widened at the sight of the redhead, "Ah, and my Lady! Good to see you—and Giovanni! I was wondering where you went."

"What's with the anxiousness?" the redhead inquired, gesturing.

The burly man scowled, although more-so out of stubbornness as he answered, "I was expecting my wife."

"Sir, I went to my Uncle and Aunt to seek their help—against the French," Giovanni bowed respectfully, and although Bartolomeo's scowl deepened and he muttered a curse at the younger man, he did not disavow the action. Rather, he sighed after a moment and regarded the two Assassins dourly.

"The French whores have us under pressure."

"Giovanni said as much," Catherine noted, glancing to her nephew. This time, Bartolomeo didn't make anything of it.

Ezio stepped closer to his old friend, "Tell me about their general, this Baron de Valois?"

"Cesare persuaded King Louis to lend him an entire army to defeat me. I'm flattered."

"Too bad you're already spoken for," the redhead mused, earning chuckle.

"Not that I would accept. The Baron is an ugly piece of shit!" he barked with a bit of his usual gusto.

"Sir, I was thinking we could let them know where the Baron is—to help," Giovanni pressed, and though Bartolomeo gave him a look he only waved a hand as if to dismiss it.

"No need. It's only a matter of time before I have Valois by the throat. We have them in retreat."

A gunshot rang out, smacking into the nearby stone rampart and taking off a decent chunk. Outside, she heard a sound of surprise—one of her recruits nearly struck by the debris. Catherine looked to the commander, brow raised very, very high.

He again waved a hand, "The situation is under control—"

"Close the gates!" came a shout from the other side of the courtyard.

Bartolomeo grinned, almost sheepishly, "Okay, so maybe I could use a little help."

"'A little' he says," Catherine sighed and turned to her recruits. "Alright, you lot! Time to get to work. We have Frenchmen coming, so get in here and help! Ezio, you want to take the gates or me?"

"I'll be able to work the gear faster. You keep them off me. Giovanni, you have Bartolomeo?"

He nodded, "Of course. Let's show these French fuckers what it means to mess with Auditore!"

The French charged only moments later. There were at least three sets of troops, but they were ready. With Assassins combined with Mercenaries, it was a victorious battle. Her recruits thinned the herd as they came and provided smoke bombs to dilute their senses, leading them straight into the fray of mercenary weapons that cut them down. Ezio, meanwhile, took it upon himself to lower each gate with Catherine right at his side, striking down any Frenchman who managed to get too close. In the end, the battle only took minutes and casualties were kept to the enemy ranks. Her own had some cuts and scrapes and even bruises, but they lived. A few mercenaries suffered heavy wounds, which they might survive, and so were either kept close for another wave to fight or inside the Barracks to be tended to.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Ezio mused, coming up beside his wife and the recruits. Bartolomeo and Giovanni had begun to make their way over when another call came from across the courtyard.

"The Baron de Valois signals from the gate!"

"Well, that can't be good," Catherine grumbled as she, and the others, raced over. Sure enough, their target sat atop his steed at the head of a French battalion. Unlike his soldiers, he was clad in bright, glimmering gold in the setting sunlight, and even from far away she could feel his arrogance—like a bad taste in her mouth.

"Bonjour, general d'Alviano. Are you ready to surrender?" he spoke, and she was mildly surprised she understood it all. Her French had gotten pretty good since starting her endeavor with her Assassins, but it wasn't nearly as fluent. She imagined the Clock, even broken, provided some translation. It wasn't perfect like before, except for Italian, but she understood enough.

"Why don't you come closer and say that!?" Bartolomeo barked back.

The baron switched to Italian, rather well, too, "You must learn how to speak French. It would mask your barbaric sensibilities. "

"Perhaps you could teach me, and I would instruct you in fighting since you seem to do so little of it!"

"As amusing as this parley has been, I'd like your unconditional surrender before sunrise."

The Commander laughed, as he drew his great sword, "Hah! My lady Bianca will whisper it in your ear!"

"I believe another lady might object to that," the Baron hummed, motioning with a hand. From behind him, a soldier emerged, and in his grasp was a woman. They were too far off to distinguish intimate details, but Catherine had met Pantasilea before, and could tell it was her. The French bastard had Bartolomeo's wife.

"My husband is going to murder all of you!" she snapped, to which Catherine's respect for her couldn't help but grow.

Bartolomeo snarled, jabbing his free hand, "I'll kill you, you French fuck!"

"Calm down, for you wife's sake. You know my terms: Enter my camp unarmed at dawn," the Baron replied, almost with an exasperated sigh. His army began to move then, following their commander. He paused, though, to look back over his shoulder, "And practice your French. Soon, all of Italie will be speaking it."

"I will get you, you piece of shit son of a bitch!" the Mercenary commander bellowed, though it fell on deaf ears. He watched them take his wife out of sight before tearing over towards the horses. The Auditore's spared each other quick looks before racing after. Ezio was the first to reach him, grabbing his arm to stop him from grabbing the horse's reigns.

"Bartolomeo, where do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think, dumb ass!? To that bastard's fortress and force my way through their gates to get back my wife!"

Catherine stepped around to put herself between him and the horse, "And you'll take the Baron and his army on your own? You're damned good at what you do, Bartolomeo, but not that good."

"You expect me to stay here then!?" he snapped, seeming ready to break through their "blockade", but when Giovanni came upon the other side, he paused—frustrated, but not moving anymore.

"What good are you to Pantasilea if you're dead?" the redhead snapped back, causing the man to pause. "Because we both know you'll be slaughtered if you do."

"She's right, my friend. We should gather our forces here and fight through the gates as we did at the Arsenale," Ezio pressed, but the man didn't want to agree. His teeth grit and he let out a snarl of frustration.

"Sorry, Uncle, but we'll never get through the gates by charging it. The fortress has too many Frenchmen. We'd be cut down before we even got five steps in," Giovanni frowned, arms folded across his chest. "Otherwise, we'd have done it by now, but with the Commander's wife as their prisoner it makes it even harder."

"So, we will climb the battlements."

"They cannot be scaled!" Bartolomeo scowled, pacing now. He sighed a moment later, "Argh. Pantasilea would know what to do! Ah, maybe this is the end. I enter at dawn bearing gifts and hope that coward spared her life."

"What?! Commander, no! You can't!" the younger Auditore rasped. "We can't just give up! Surely there's a way! Uncle, Aunt—surely!?"

Ezio's eyes lit as his head shot up, "Wait—Bartolomeo that's it!"

"Huh? What did I say?" the commander frowned, brows scrunched.

"Say you got through the gate without a problem—once inside, your men can overpower the camp's patrols, correct?"

"Yes, but—"

"—Especially if the patrols are taken completely by surprise?"

"Of course."

"Then we need to liberate several suits of French armor. At dawn, we are going to walk right in."

"Hah! Ezio Auditore you are truly a man after my own heart! Magnificent!"

Catherine laughed with them, "Well, well. Looks like I might be out of a job making the plans. Lucky for you both, we have plenty of extremely skilled Assassins to take out as many Frenchmen as you need—or do we have anyone with second thoughts over there?"

The redhead leaned over slightly to look at her recruits, numbering eight. Of them, none shied away. In fact, they dared give her lip to suggest they might be cowards. She, of course, only grinned.

"Excellent. My troops will gather it from the dead. We will then depart from the north, so as not to arouse suspicion. Giovanni, I want you with me, and to gather the best men we have—twenty if you can. This is going to be one of the hardest fights of our life. I need you to carry Bianca for me as well," Bartolomeo nodded as he unstrapped his sword belt and handed it to the younger man.

Giovanni's eyes widened, "Of course, sir. I won't let you down."

"Quite the promotion there," the redhead snickered as a blush came to her nephew's cheeks.

His commander chuckled, "He is a strong, smart lad. The Auditore blood is strong in his veins. Now, you two must hurry and get the armor, but be sure it is without a fight. The armor has to stay clean."

"Not a problem—right, my recruits?" she called out, and all she received was strong confirmation. "Good. Right. So. You ready?"

"Always. Bartolomeo, Giovanni, we'll meet you north of the fortress. Keep low until then, alright?

"No promises. Now hurry the fuck up!" Bartolomeo barked, but there was a lighter tone to his voice that hadn't been there before. Catherine dared to think it was hope, but she left the thought be as she and Ezio lifted the nearby gate, gestured to their Assassin recruits, and ventured out into the night.

It was time to kill some Frenchmen.

-O-

It took more hours than they would have liked, but the job was done. The French had been scattered throughout the northern part of the Roman countryside, but all in all they'd managed to take down at least twenty soldiers and procured their armor. Their recruits made it infinitely easier, using them to take out large groups all at once. Casualties were essentially none beside one recruit—a young lad who got an unlucky bout—but he would survive the shallow cut to his side. His shirt was ruined, though, but being alive mattered more. The others were a bit weary after a long run, but they would do well. That, and the next phase of the plan didn't involve them having to wear clunky armor, so they could relax—for a bit.

Now it was time to dress the mercenaries. Transporting the armor was easy enough with the help of horses, and finding Bartolomeo's men wasn't too difficult. They were held up by a small ruins, and there the armory was distributed. The flashy, metallic armor was quite the change from their usual tunics, but the men wore it well—especially Giovanni, who looked quite gallant in his decadent plating. He grinned like an imp, no doubt impressed with himself, and even made a point to show off to his Uncle and Aunt.

"Yes, yes, you look absolutely dashing. You'll have to go visit your mother wearing it," Catherine laughed, adjusting the younger man's armor a bit so it looked better.

He beamed, "I know she'd just love it. I bet even 'Rico would be jealous!"

"Of course—sadly, I don't think we'll have any left over for him," Ezio snickered with a wink.

"You better for me," Bartolomeo spoke up, coming to stand with them. "Bring me a suit of that perverted armor."

Ezio glanced—knowingly—to Catherine as he met the man's eyes, "You're not wearing one."

"What?"

"Don't worry—it's all part of the plan," the redhead spoke, touching his arm gently. "You can't just go in disguised, too. They're not going to let their guard down if they think you haven't come yet. So, the idea is that we pretend to bring you in as a prisoner."

"As she says; you will 'surrender' to us, posing as a French squadron. We'll bring you to the Baron," her husband nodded, which Bartolomeo copied, then frowned.

"Then what?"

"Your men attack on my signal."

"Ah, good… but what of you and your Assassins?"

Catherine smirked, "We'll cover your asses. The battlements may be impassable, but the outer walls aren't. We'll scale those walls after you go in and attack them when they least expect it. It may not be much, but it means no one will come in from behind to attack. Then, if we're not too late, we'll join you in the main battle and attack from behind again."

"Excellent. Very good. Men! Get into formation!" the commander bellowed.

Catherine turned to her husband, "And you… get into that armor."

"You look rather excited," he mused wryly.

"I admit... I'm curios to see how you'll look. A proper shining knight."

"Careful, I might start wearing armor to bed."

"Oh, please, you'd hate it—too hard to get it all off quick enough. Now, hush, and get dressed," she laughed lightly, pulling him towards the ledge of the ruins where they'd brought all the gear. Changing was quick and easy, and her husband was soon adorned in decorated, suave French Captain attire. He looked the part, and was rather dashing with his blue cape flowing behind him. Not quite as dashing as in his hood, but it would fool the French and that was all that mattered.

"Alright, we're set," Ezio hummed, adjusting his bracers for a moment, before grasping his wife's chin gently to kiss her just the same. "Be safe. Watch out for the recruits."

"And I'll watch that pretty rump of yours."

"Can you two please hurry up? God help us, you worse than Mother and Father ever were," Giovanni scoffed from behind, and the two laughed.

"You'll understand once you finally marry, my boy. Now get in line, soldier. Captain's orders," Ezio smirked, clapping the young man on the back, and heading to the front of the squad where Bartolomeo stood in his "manacles". Catherine watched them go, then turned to her recruits, whom stood at attention.

"Alright, it's time. We'll follow at a distance and assist as needed until we hit the fortress. Once there, we wait until they're through. Once they've let their guard down, we smoke them. One of you pretend to be some local causing a scene. Then we climb, infiltrate, and take out the camp. Then we head into the main area, got it?" the redhead spoke firmly, gaze spanning the lot of them. They all nodded. "Good. Remember, fight smart. You're no good to Roma dead, so run if you must, and live to fight another day. Do well today, though, and you just might find yourselves taking the Oath. Now, move out. Keep to the shadows."

No more was said; there was no need to. Catherine and her Assassin recruits vanished even as the sun's rays began to trickle over the horizon, painting the blue sky with shades of red melding into the black. An ominous sight, but the redhead was sure it was French blood that would spill tonight. Her gut told her so, and there was a confidence within her heart and mind she hadn't had for a while. Perhaps it was a foolishness, but as she came upon their first obstacle, there was no hesitance; no second thought as she struck down the French guards even before Ezio's group arrived. Two fell by her hand, and the other two to her recruits. The bodies were moved as soon as they fell, and it was as though they were never there.

Catherine kept them moving, pausing only to make sure of the path to be taken, and then they ventured ahead and struck down any French they found who might pose a problem. It was more than she expected, and yet still her confidence did not waver. It was a strange thing, to be so sure of herself, and she did not recall the last time she had been. And it was then she realized she did not hear the voices—the whispers. Her mind was clear, as it had been for some time now, and it was liberating. She was more herself than she had been in so long, and she knew then the Banker's death by her hand had been no fluke.

She was Catherine Auditore, through and through, and the wolf's howls were naught but an echo in the night.

"They're approaching the fortress," the recruit who'd paired off with her—Agnolo was his name—spoke softly. The redhead looked up from her spot in the brush, not too far off, and decidedly in the shadows. No one would spot them here, and even she could not see where the others were. She'd trained them well.

"Good. Be ready for anything," she replied, and strained her ears to listen.

"Declare yourself!" the guard on high barked in his native tongue.

Ezio replied clearly, "My soldiers are taking the Italian captain to His Excellency the Baron. He wants to surrender."

"What part of France are you from?" the soldier asked this time, switching to Italian. Catherine's heart skipped a beat, hand going to her blade. Had he figured it out so quick?

"Montreal," her husband replied at once. A long pause followed, straining her lungs as she held her breath.

"Open the gates!"

Catherine exhaled and only relaxed her hand a little. Her part would come soon enough. For now, she watched the disguised mercenaries venture through. Glancing around, she made note of the spiked, wooden walls around the main entrance. It was their only real way in, although they could scale the wood if they were desperate. It would take a good trick, but it would work.

The redhead brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled once, twice. A chirp replied.

"Let's go. Wait for the smoke then rush," she told her recruit, whom grunted in confirmation. They moved out from the brush, keeping to the dark as much as possible even as sunlight peeked over the horizon. It took countless, heart-stopping seconds, but then—the burst of smoke. Loud coughing. Shouts of alarms. From the smoke a recruit clad in more common attire, but a hood to conceal his face, appeared. He was laughing, throwing taunts and mocking. The Frenchman fell for it as he pulled away from the smoke, cursing and threatening to gut "the boy". Of course, he would do no such thing. The bait had been cast, and while the guard—and others nearby—though it but a harmless prank by some Italian scum, it was much more. The Frenchman had no chance to understand his error, though, as a Hidden Blade pierced him from behind, into his heart. He gasped while his body grew slack and Catherine lowered him down. Beyond her, more hooded figured scaled through the smoke and down into the brush and remaining shadows of the camp.

She made a short bird call—nothing unusual to anyone who'd been here long. To her recruits, though, it was the sign to begin the hunt.

The French were caught unawares, and there was some satisfaction in that. Of course, not all of them were, but by the time they had begun to try and rally, their numbers had been more than halved. Those within the main gate had not noticed, either, but that had no doubt been because of Ezio's party causing a great show with their parade.

That, and a fight had apparently started. The gunshot made everyone pause—even the Frenchmen. Catherine cursed, recognizing the sound. It wasn't like those of Borgia's men, which meant it came from Ezio's Hidden Blade. Something had gone somewhat wrong, else he wouldn't have blown his cover.

"Are you good?!" she shouted to her closest recruits.

"We got it—go!"

Catherine didn't reply, tearing off at a hard sprint through the main gate. Any Frenchmen that had remained were gone, heading towards the battleground further in. She took to the rooftops to cut time, scaling up the brick wall with ease. The sounds of fighting lead her right to the main fray. Blood pooled on the stones and painted blades and spears alike. Most of the mercenaries were still standing, but some had fallen. Giovanni was fine, fighting back to back with Bartolomeo, whom looked unharmed. She didn't see the Baron or Pantasilea, but she did spot Ezio racing off further in. She followed, noting the French were hardly finished. He was going to need some help. Her husband was thankfully easy enough to keep up with, and she almost laughed as she beat him to the spot he was climbing up.

She held out her hand, enjoying the surprise on his face, "Need a hand?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind," he chuckled, accepting her aid. "The others?"

"They're good. They'll help the mercenaries and clean house. Now—where to?"

"This way. Keep close and be careful—the Baron has Pantasilea as his hostage. He'll kill her if we act rashly."

"Damn! What a cock-sucking piece of shit!" she growled, taking off at a sprint with Ezio.

He laughed between pants, "You sound like Bartolomeo!"

"Ha! Now that's a compliment!" she grinned, then spared any more breath for getting air to her lungs as they leaped across rooftops, rolled into runs on lower sections, and avoided detection of any archers. They had to work quickly to keep Bartolomeo's wife from being killed, and it was, as usual, never easy. Another gate was situated within the fortress, and it was both sealed and blocked by spearmen. The redhead scowled, but her husband merely motioned for her to follow him forward. They were above them on an adjacent rooftop and the guards' eyes were ahead. They hardly knew what was coming as the two Assassins took a running leap and landed on them; Ezio's twin blades taking out two guard's throats, and Catherine's single burying into the other. One guard remained, spooked and staggering back. The redhead was quick to lunge forward, shoving her Hidden Blade up into his jugular. He choked on blood as he fell, forgotten by his attackers as Ezio rushed to spin the gate's wheel mechanism.

"I see him! He's going back behind the building!" the redhead called, glimpsing the general's golden armor and Pantasilea's darker dress moving towards the far side of the courtyard to the building. "He's—fuck!"

"'Cat!" Ezio rasped, quickly yanking her to his chest as he pulled back into cover. A gunshot had nearly taken off her head, but she was alright. He made sure of course, but then got to a crouch as they passed beneath the gate. "Oh, great. Gunmen. We need to keep a low profile and get back there—especially with Pantasilea at gunpoint."

"No kidding. He has decent aim, too, fucking French shit," she snapped as she scanned the courtyard. "Alright, we go right—I see only two of the gunmen. We take them out, and we're good."

"Then let's do it. Go, go!"

They moved as quickly and quietly as they could. Every second was too long, and every step too loud. Every motion was too visible, and yet, the gunmen on the far right didn't notice them as they came closer. The redhead held her breath as Ezio made the final stretch, rushing forward suddenly, and rammed his Blade into the man's back. He fell with a gasp, and her husband slit his throat after. She rushed by him, aiming for the gunmen at the top of the courtyard. He'd shoot them before they got too close, so she scaled the wall as quickly and quietly as she could, paused for the right moment, and took him down silently. Ezio was behind her in a second and they tip-toed close to the edge of the building.

Down below, the Baron paced. He must have shoved Pantasilea to the ground at some point, for she was sprawled down on her knees, dress splayed out around her, and hands bound behind her back. She looked a little roughed up and her face was pale, but she kept a strong expression. Even with death so possibly close she remained proud and confident. Her captor, though, oozed with fear. He knew death was coming and he could not escape it. He turned his back, and Catherine meant to reach out to urge her husband to take the chance, but he was already moving. With a great leap he descended upon the Baron, crashing onto him so he hit the ground hard. His Blade found his neck, striking a vital line. Catherine leaped down as well, though she rushed to Pantasilea's side, helping her up and checking her for injuries. Thankfully, she was fine.

"No, no—I… I only… wanted respect," the Baron rasped, the life leaving him.

"Respect is earned, not inherited or purchased," Ezio replied, holding the man in his arm.

The Baron closed his eyes for a moment, "Perhaps you are right… I need more time…"

"May you be equal in death," the Assassin spoke softly as the Baron's eyes closed again—this time for the last time, and he let out a final breath of air. "Rest in peace."

"You are far kinder than I would have been," the Lady d'alvino spat, voice thick with bitterness.

Catherine chuckled, "Part of being an Assassin. We have to show respect for the dead, regardless of how cruel or terrible they are. Are you sure you're alright?"

"As I can be," the woman half-smiled.

"Pantasilea!" Bartolomeo's voice cried out from behind them, and the woman's smile grew as bright as the rising sun. She happily rushed to her husband, who embraced her and cupped her cheek tenderly. "Don't ever disappear again! I was lost without you."

"Really? But you rescued me."

"Ezio and Catherine came up with a brilliant plan."

The Auditore raised a brow, "I did not. It was all your husband's idea."

"It was?" the mercenary hummed.

"You are my prince," Pantasilea smiled and wrapped her arms around Bartolomeo. A smile came upon his face as well, so gentle and happy and relieved that Catherine almost did a double take. She couldn't recall an expression on the man's face before.

"Now I better earn that title—but first, let us get you to safety, my love. My men and I will escort you," he replied softly.

"You will," she nodded, and strolled by him, though paused to send a knowing look to the Lady and Lord Auditore. "Thank-you."

Catherine let her—and Bartolomeo—go out of sight before she sighed, "Damn. That woman doesn't miss anything. And here I thought we could really give the big lug all the credit."

"She's the perfect woman for him, that's for sure," Ezio chuckled. "I'm just glad it all went well. Bartolomeo and his wife are alive and well, our recruits will make damned good Assassins, and another of Cesare's allies is dead."

"Yeah, I admit I'm surprised it did go so well," the redhead hummed, turning around so as to crouch down beside the deceased Baron. She reached over and closed his eyelids. "So. That's two down… leaving Micheletto and Cesare himself. Things are moving fast."

"Yes, they are… but we'll be ready. You and I, we'll see it through."

"…Yeah," Catherine nodded, standing up, and looking to her husband with a bright, confident shine to her eyes. "Yeah, we will."

28 – End

TMWolf: Alright, one more target down! Cesare is almost at the chopping block, but first... we have to deal with Michelleto! But for now they get a short break, which Bartolomeo and his wife need! I always loved them together. They were so cute and balanced each other so well. Pantasilea was great xD

And this is a good chapter for 'Cat. She's definitely almost totally herself and gaining even more and more confidence. Giovanni A. is also earning his own stripes, and Giovanni B. is steadily becoming a part of the Assassin and Auditore fold.

So. Time for some dire times for Assassin allies... and the fate of Michelleto!