TMWolf: Sorry for the delay! I did mean to post earlier, but I got very, very busy this weekend! But now I'm good to post and here we kinda start the beginning of the end. Crazy to think there's only like 3 chapters to go! It's almost over folks!

And so a lot of things start moving this chapter. We'll see more changes to the story line, kinda. And it's getting to the End game! Hold onto your butts!

Thank-you for all your wonderful reviews and comments! They always make me happy X)

So this chapter is from Legend of Korra's soundtrack - Greatest Change

29 – Greatest Change I

August 14, 1503

Rome, Italy

"I feel a little guilty leaving the kids—Diana wanted to come sooo badly," Catherine chuckled as she dismounted her steed. Ezio did the same and took her reigns to bring the horses to the stable.

"She did make quite the pout, but I'd rather her not come here until she's older," Ezio grinned wryly. "Don't get me wrong—Volpe is as safe as can be, but the inn isn't exactly a place for a young girl. Or young boys."

"True. I'd rather all three of them not learn about gambling, alcohol, and, uh, not-Claudia's-girls. They at least can be tactful when the kids are around."

"Because Mother would skin them alive. Verbally. But still—skin them. They respect Mother and Claudia too much, too, and I imagine even Federico would get upset," the Lord Auditore mused, snickering even.

"Pssh. More like he'd laugh it up. Giovanni would join him as soon as his brother told him, too. Even Claudia can't whoop that out of them. They do carry some of their fathers' genes—and their Uncle's," she mused, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Ezio mock-pouted, "Hey! I was… okay, no, I was that bad, but still. Either way, Diana and Giovanni will learn to get over it and keep busy with training. And Mario is, thankfully, too young to know why he's upset about it."

"Thankfully… but God he is growing fast. I'm only so glad he is far easier going than our little girl was. I haven't had any trouble with him so far. He's so inquisitive, though. I may need to have him go visit Leonardo for full days some time just to satisfy his curiosity."

"I think that's not a bad idea… when it's safe," her husband rumbled, and she hummed in agreement. Despite all their work for their artist friend, he was still under Borgia influence, and to be seen intimately associated with her or her family was just too dangerous. They would simply have to do with the occasional visit and teaching lessons.

"Well, at the very least we can rest easy knowing he'll grow up with good company. I'm glad little Giovanni came to stay with us. Diana has been looking livelier, too. I think she's glad to have a friend a bit closer to her age—someone she can already teach how to fight."

"Aaah, she takes after her mother more than we thought," Ezio snickered.

"What can I say? She got the good genes," she winked back, earning a proper laugh. "Ah, but they're growing up so fast, I swear. I feel like it was only yesterday I had to carry Diana all the time. Even Mario was barely getting on his own when we brought him back, now look at him! He's already reading and doing all sorts of things. It won't be long before Diana is a teenager! With Giovanni we'll have two in our midst, but hopefully with him being in the fold so young it won't be too bad."

Ezio chuckled, pulling her for a quick hug, "I'm sure it will be fine. The three of them are going to make good friends, which will help. He'll fit in fine here. That, and, I admit, I'm already fond of him. He's got spirit."

"I'm glad you do. I won't lie—I was a bit worried about making the decision without you… after I did it, of course, but still. I just hope we can do right by him. He doesn't speak of it properly, but… he was definitely scarred. Agnese told me he was never hit, but… Micheletto was scruel. Cesare, too. The only one who even seemed to care some was Lucrezia, as crazy as that sounds. Seems she wasn't a total heartless cow."

Her husband grinned, "Is that you changing your mind about her?"

She snorted, "Of course not. I still have a firm hatred for her in my heart, but… She's obviously not all bad like her brother."

"No, definitely not, but we can talk about that later. La Volpe is waiting," Ezio hummed, gesturing to the door behind them, which barely muted the sounds of revelry within. She made an "ah" sound and pressed by him to open the door. Sure enough, a raucous chorus of laughter, curses, squeals, shouts, and singing blasted their ears while the smell of wine, sex, and everything in between hit their noses. It was certainly a sight to behold, the tremendous crowd of denizens around the many tables and at the single bar where the taps ran freely. Courtesans danced about or "entertained" in other ways, and on one side of the room an intense game of dice and cards was going on. Someone was no doubt losing money and another taking it for his own—all in the Assassins' favor, of course.

The two Assassins entered casually, avoiding any drunken guests, and made for the bar while glancing around for the infamous fox. He was ever illusive, and never made it easy to find him in the dimly lit place. Indeed, just as they began to wonder if he was even there, he appeared in all his orange-colored glory—just like his namesake. All he was missing was ears and a tail.

"Hello, Ezio, Catherine, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's time to pay a visit to Lucrezia's lover, Pietro."

The older man chuckled, "Yes, I did mention it—an actor and poet has the Lady Borgia's fancy at the moment, despite being married to the Duke of Ferrara."

"Of course," Catherine hummed, her tone dry and icy.

Ezio nudged her, "And?"

"I have sent my men out to find him."

"Good, we'll meet up with them then," the Auditore nodded, turning to head out. La Volpe stepped forward, though, calling out to him.

"If I may…"

"What is it?"

A somber look came over the fox's face, "Someone warned Rodrigo to stay away from the Castello when you made your attack two years ago."

"What? How can you be sure after so long? Who would even do that?" Catherine guffawed, though kept her voice low.

"I have had to mull on it for some time, my Lady, and gather evidence among my men, but I am certain. Rodrigo was warned."

"…You believe it was Machiavelli," Ezio spoke, earning a confirming glance and a spread of his arms. The Assassin—and his wife—sighed, though more with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. "Do you have proof this time?"

La Volpe's frowned, "No."

"I know this had weighed heavy on your mind for all these years, but we must not be split apart by mere suspicion," he replied, his voice firm as he jabbed at the ground. Before La Volpe could speak, the door to the inn burst open and a thief rushed through. He panted and was sweaty, as if having rushed as fast he could. His frantic expression did not bode well. Catherine braced herself.

"The Borgia know the locations of our spies!"

"Who told them?" his leader inquired.

"I… I'm not sure… But Master Machiavelli asked about our search for Pietro earlier today."

Catherine hated how bad that sounded, but their friend wasn't a traitor. He couldn't be—not after all he'd done to ensure the safety of the Order. He'd been with it from even before she was an Assassin, even before he'd first revealed himself in Venezia all those years ago. Why would he betray them all of a sudden? Why help Ezio when their home had fallen? Why take in their daughter and see to her safety—and Giovanni's? Why keep helping them when he could simply wipe them out?

Yet, she couldn't simply let it slide. Nor could Ezio, and she knew he thought the same when their eyes met. He was frustrated, but he could not say no. It would be an insult to La Volpe, and to ignore his concerns would be a slap to the face. They needed his trust and loyalty—and friendship—as much as the others. They would have to look into it.

"It doesn't prove anything, but… we can't ignore it. We need to help your spies first, though," Catherine sighed, touching the thief's shoulder briefly, whom nodded, though he still was not totally pleased. She doubt he would be until they took down Machiavelli, but that wouldn't happen. The man was innocent. She was sure of it.

Ezio led the way outside, Volpe, Catherine, and the thief right on their heels. It was a good thing they were already equipped and ready to go—they had barely made it a few steps when horses came pounding towards the little rural town, and their rides bore the Borgia red.

"You did not lose your pursuers!?" La Volpe hissed, slapping the thief behind the head. The man gave a pathetic look as his leader drew his dagger. "Ezio, if you do not mind…?"

"We can't have your little den getting found now can we?" her husband mused wryly, although a scowl was etched on his face as he approached the dismounting riders. The redhead drew her blade as he did, and their enemy followed in suit.

The clash was small and relatively quick. A few more thieves came to join them in the brawl, which was useful when another wave of Borgia came by. It ended in their victory, of course, and ten Borgia bodies littered the courtyard while only one thief did. No loss was a good loss, but it was better than having the den discovered Thankfully, the bodies would be gone soon enough with the thieves knowing how to "dispose" of such things very well, which left the Thief Leader and the two Assassins to mount their own steeds and head off into the countryside once more.

"I still don't believe Machiavelli has turned traitor," Ezio shouted as they pushed the horses into a light canter.

La Volpe almost scoffed, "First the Villa attack, then the Castello, and now this. He is behind it all."

"Except Machiavelli is the one who brought us into the Order, and he's the one who's helped us all this time! Our Order would be nothing like it is without him!" Catherine rejoined, earning a glance from under the hood.

"All a ploy. I am certain of it."

"A bit complex and not very helpful to the Borgia if it is."

"Because he seeks to be rid of both of his enemies at once. I have seen such tactics, and you both know the cruelty and terrible lengths the Templars will go to achieve their goals."

"Even so… we must have proof La Volpe," Ezio replied this time. "We owe Machiavelli too much to simply believe he has betrayed us."

"Then I will give it to you—ah! There! Hurry, one of my men is in trouble!" the fox barked, pointing to an old structure used for living and shops in the distance, not far from some of the ancient roman fields. Sure enough, a lone thief faced off against three Borgia dogs, his comrades already slain. The trio urged their horses into a gallop, closing the distance in seconds. The battle to come lasted much longer, the group ducking and dodging blow after blow until, at last, the final swordsman fell to a Hidden Blade.

Their rescued thief leaned against a nearby wooden fence to catch his breath, his body scraped, bleeding, and bruised, but he was very much so alive. His comrades, however, had not been so lucky, and remained motionless in their own puddles of blood. La Volpe regarded each for a reverent moment before he came to his remaining man.

"What were you able to find out?"

He wiped a bit of blood from his lip, "Pietro is to be assassinated this evening. Cesare sent his butcher."

"Micheletto?" Catherine breathed, memories returning in flashes that left a bitter burning in her gut that suited the scowl on her face.

"Yes. The best killer in Roma. No one escapes him."

"We did before, and it will happen again tonight," Ezio growled softly, wielding his own hatred. "Come on, let's hurry to your men."

"They are near the baths, quickly!" La Volpe barked, leaping onto his horse, and racing off. The two Assassins only exchanged a look before following in suit, their pace set to as fast as they dared.

It thankfully was not too far, but again they were too late to prevent the death of two of their allies. The guards had cut them down and even kicked their lifeless bodies with a laugh. Just feet away, a single survivor remained. He was injured—one arm hung limp by his side, painted red—but kept a dagger up despite his poor situation. Four guards began to converge on him, but they would only get within feet before La Volpe surged his horse through them, striking one directly and sending him flying. He did not get up, though he did howl in agony. The others only stumbled and gasped in surprise before they bellowed with rage and turned their attention from the thief. Ezio and Catherine leaped into the fray then, rolling up from their fall from their horses and meeting steel with steel. The injured thief retreated to safety as they fought, back to back and parrying sword and spear. Ducking and dodging, they struck, metal slicing flesh, and four more Borgia dogs fell.

"Just like the good old days, eh?" Catherine chuckled as she wiped her blade on the grass.

"My back hurts a bit more than it did back then," Ezio snickered, similarly cleaning his Hidden Blades.

"Oh, hush, you're only in your forties," she quipped back before turning to La Volpe, whom inspected his thief's wound. "How bad is it?"

"He'll live, thankfully. Were you able to uncover anything about Pietro?" the leader asked as he took the thief's scarf and used it as a makeshift bandage.

The thief winced, but nodded, "The man is performing in a play tonight."

"Good, you did well. Now, hurry and return to the Den so the Doctor can see to you. Quickly! Keep out of sight!" La Volpe rasped, gesturing for him to go. The thief nodded, spared his fallen comrades a final look, and then stole a nearby horse and sped off. His leader turned to the two Assassins, his face grim. "Four more thieves gone. We have one more location. I pray we make it in time."

This time, they did.

The venture took them towards a populated area in the rural parts of Roma, situated on top of a ruin and well. Again, the thieves were under attack, but they were holding firm. One had been sliced on the leg, but he would survive with no issue. Their enemy had fallen in their stead, and there was a palpable feeling of relief among the group as La Volpe conferred with them about the actor like he had with the others.

"He is to be suspended from a cross. Micheletto will come for him with a spear."

"Good, you did well. You should return to your safe house here to mend and lay low until all is clear," the fox replied, clapping the young man on the arm.

The thief motioned off in a direction, "Giorgio knows more. He got the others to the safe house before we were cut off. Thankfully, they did not see where he went."

"Excellent. Let's go," his leader nodded and gestured for Catherine and Ezio to follow him. They moved a few streets over, coming to yet one of many unfinished houses. Their contact knocked on the door three times then twice, and a moment later the door opened. Their injured thieves were hurried inside while Giorgio, or Catherine assumed that's who it was, slunk outside to speak with them.

"What do you know of Pietro? Where is he?"

He shrugged, "I cannot tell you. But Micheletto waits at the city gate east of the Baths of Trajan. He intends to disguise his men to make the killing look like an accident."

"Good, go on, then. See to your brothers," the fox replied, urging the thief off. He turned to his two comrades, whom met his gaze.

"Micheletto will lead us to Lucrezia's lover."

"Ezio, Catherine… Machiavelli has betrayed us. You may wish to deny it—even I wish to, but the truth is now clear."

Catherine grit her teeth. She didn't want to take this stance; she didn't want to push his buttons and insult him, but this was too much. Machiavelli had become a close friend—almost like family—and he'd done so much for them. She didn't know why La Volpe was so set on believing it was true, but it was he who was blind to the truth. She only wished she could find the true traitor and show him.

"Yes, it is—that you don't have any real proof," she spoke, earning a quick look from her husband, and a flicker of surprise that turned into a glare.

"Is not the blood of my men proof enough!? Who else could have known their locations? My thieves would never betray each other, and it was Machiavelli who was asking about them! And who is it of us that fraternizes with our enemy hmm? Who goes to their courts? Who speaks with the supporters of the Borgia so kindly and shares their wine, hmm? Who was the one to leave the Villa just before it fell? Who was it that was seen conferring with Borgia guards? My thieves see all and tell all. Machiavelli. Is. A. Traitor!" the man snarled, jabbing a finger at the ground.

"That is coincidence, La Volpe, and you know it," she barked back. "Correlation isn't causation, and he's done far more to help us than hinder us. We can't just go after him—especially not kill him—without concrete proof!"

The thief's eyes were cold, "If you will not do what needs to be done, then I will."

"Volpe—!" Ezio called as the older man spun on his heel and stormed off, but he would not be swayed. The Assassin groaned, rubbing his face, and looked to his wife.

"What? You think the same."

He sighed this time, "I do, but… dammit all! I didn't want to have things come to this… Fuck. We have to hurry. We need to prove Machiavelli's innocence and save Pietro."

"We need to hurry and find Micheletto at the gate and stop his plans. But La Volpe won't help us, and his thieves were hit too hard. We're going to need our recruits."

"We have a coop nearby. Let's send a message and have them meet us. I'll call for as many as are available. We don't know how many we'll need for the play," Catherine mused, glancing around until she spotted the structure not far off. It would be a simple message, so it only took a few minutes to scratch out where to meet them and to do it now. It would take only minutes for the pigeon to reach their fortress, and minutes more for their Assassins to arrive, but it was enough time.

"Ready?" Ezio called once she released the bird and she nodded. They headed off towards the gate to the east of the small town. It wasn't far, and already there was movement at the gate. Ezio nudged her towards a vantage on a nearby small cliff obscured a bit by trees. There they hunkered down, watching as the group of men—and soldiers—paraded under the metal bars of the gate that dropped down behind them as soon as they were through. It was impossible to mistake the extravagant armor and red colors of Cesare—Catherine tensed at the sight of him—and beside him was his dog. She'd know the man anywhere, and unlike Lucrezia, she felt nothing but unrelenting hatred for him.

It was different from before, though, that she was sure of. For one, she had clarity in her mind, and the madness that had overcome her the first time was not there. This was a different kind of loathing that was on par with that for Cesare. Two men who needed to die, to free Roma from a terrible scourge.

There was another man with them, though; one she didn't recognize. He was being held by their guards, his arms bound behind his back and face blind-folded, so was he an enemy of the Borgia? She couldn't be sure, and she couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Cesare's body language was tense and aggressive, though. Even what should have been a friendly, intimate gesture—touching the man's cheeks with his hands—was dangerous. Worse still, Micheletto was stalking closer, something in his grasp. He was like a vulture, circling in for the kill. Then—the strike. A rope flashed into sight and wrapped around the unknown man's neck.

They couldn't help him. They could only watch for an agonizing long five minutes as Micheletto strangled him, the rope pulled so tight it cut off his air. His body went slack, and the Borgia dog let him drop. Catherine's gut twisted.

"Ezio… we can't let him live—not this time," she spoke softly, eyes locked on the man. She only dared turn away when she felt her husband's hand take hers.

"He will. This time, I swear it. Even if he knows about our traitor, he'll die."

"Good. He's harmed and killed enough people… ah, damn, they're leaving," she growled as movement caught her eyes. Cesare moved back through the re-opened gate, while Micheletto took what looked like cloth from the guards. He approached a nearby horse next, mounted it, and took off. Both Assassins moved quickly, racing towards a horse not far off. A silent apology was all they could offer to the owner as Ezio hopped up and pulled the redhead up behind him, kicking the beast into a gallop to catch up with their target. He slowed, though, to ensure he wouldn't notice them once they were close enough.

"Be ready for anything, kitty-Cat. We don't know his full plan. I can only assume the cloth he has is a costume for the play."

"Sounds about right. It looked like a lot for one person, though—is he bringing more men with him?"

"Probably. We need to intercept them then. Maybe even replace them without recruits."

"Not just maybe. We will. Look," Catherine chuckled, pointing to their right. Heading towards them was a group of five horses, and on each was an Assassin clad in white. No words were needed; the redhead merely made a gesture of acknowledgement and a second gesture to lay back a bit. They knew what to do, which made it all the easier to tail Micheletto to one of the larger ruins in the Roma countryside. She could never remember the name, but it reminded her of a magnificent, overly large palace with its layout and many columns and arches. It also had the amount of guards she would expect for one, too. As such, they dismounted at a safe spot, watching as their target passed through a barrier of Borgia goons.

"So what's the plan, Mentors?" their Assassins inquired, their focus steeled and ready to do their duty.

"For now, we sneak in and see what the man in the dark robes is up to. His name is Micheletto—you may know him—and he's very dangerous. Do not let your guard down. Kill the Borgia soldiers if you must, but we need to lay low and not be found out. We're tailing him to another target—one we're trying to keep alive," she explained quickly, and was given nods of confirmation. "Good. Alright, Ezio, make the call."

He only waited a few seconds as guards moved out of the way before motioning them forward. They slunk by the main contingent by the stairs to clamber up the brick walls and quickly skirted through the pillars and arches. They kept an eye out for Micheletto as they snuck through the ruins, keeping a watch for other guards and even taking them out if need be. Thankfully, their venture proved fruitful, and after a tense trek they finally found a safe perch and watched as their target approached a group of men, five in total. His words weren't understandable with how low he spoke, but he handed the garments to the men and headed off.

"Damn… alright, you guys—get those costumes. We'll keep on the target's tail," Catherine spoke quickly. They nodded and took off. Thankfully, the guards didn't move too far, which made things easier, but while the time to do it gave the redhead and her husband a good lead, it gave Micheletto a greater one. He'd kept his horse at an easier pace than before, but it was still a while before Catherine saw her recruit's horses rushing to catch up to them. At the same time, their target finally picked up the pace, weaving through the crowds and roads that pressed through cities and ruins that slowly made their way towards a familiar structure. Even as the sun had started to set, bringing on a blanket of darkness, the Il Colosseo was unmistakable with its enormous walls and unique construct. Their target made a straight bee-line for it, never wavering as he approached the guards at the front.

"Looks like we won't get in that way… or well, Ezio and I won't, but looks like you five can," the redhead mused, noting the group of actors dressed as Romans who were welcomed well enough.

Ezio chuckled, "Hope you don't mind looking like those guys."

"Well, can't say I like the skirt," one of them—a young, brown-haired man—frowned, the garment in his hands.

"Will this even fit me? I mean, it should hide I'm a woman, but," another hummed, holding up the chest place.

The man next to her grinned impishly, "You're a little too short, too."

"Pfft. You're barely an inch taller than her, Borso," another gentleman snickered, earning a punch to the arm.

"Alright, alright, cool it down. I'll wear your costume—I need to get close to Micheletto, too," Ezio chuckled, holding his hand out. The young woman didn't hesitate to hand it over, but she did look to her Mentors for instruction.

Catherine hummed, "I can't sneak in with a costume then, either… hey, ah… Salvaza, was it? Oh, good. Right, so… how are you climbing skills?"

"The best. I can out match these sorry bastards any day," she smirked, earning a chorus of "hey!" and "fuck you"'s. She laughed it up, as did they.

"Well, good, because you and I are going to be climbing our way in. I can already see some gunmen up on the higher runs from here, so we'll want to get rid of them. You good?" the redhead replied, and the woman nodded. "Good. Then you lot need to get dressed. We don't know how much time we have. You can change behind the building there."

"As the lady commands, boys. Come on," Ezio chuckled, leading the way. Catherine gave him a sweet wave before turning to Salvaza to discuss the task at hand. She recalled the woman did have good skills—especially with free running, and she was both quiet and quick. She'd taken a liking to the poison blades Leonardo had fashioned for use, which suited her style. They would have to work quickly to scour the walls to where the gunmen were, then keep watch from on high to make sure everything went as planned. By the time her recruit had agreed, the men returned, no longer clad in white, but red shirts and skirts, and gray armor. They looked rather handsome in a way, although they were unused to the garb.

"Well, we're as ready as we can be. You?" Ezio inquired, coming over to his wife as he put his helmet on his head.

She chuckled as she helped him clasp it together and adjusted his gear, "We're good. You look very handsome by the way. You should keep the costume."

"Oh?" he inquired, smirking, and she only winked. He chuckled as he turned to his fellow soldiers. "Alright. We need to get going. Stay close and play the part. With luck, we won't have any lines. Leave Micheletto to me but watch out for Borgia guards."

"Understood, Mentor. We're ready."

"Alright, let's go, Salvaza," Catherine motioned, and she and the young woman darted off towards the left while the men went to the right, heading for the entrance.

The redhead was glad to see her recruit keep up with her as they rushed over to the Colosseo, keeping an eye on where guards were looking. She was even more pleased to see her climbing with ease, matching her pace despite the tricky footing. That, and the walls were fairly worn, so some grips were shaky or cracked. Still, the woman kept up, and it wasn't too long before Catherine pulled herself over the ledge and pressed against the nearby wall. Salvaza pushed her back to the other and they inched forward, listening and watching for any guards. Thankfully, the gunmen were not stationed at their particular spot. It gave them the advantage despite being outnumbered two to five.

"I've got the right, you go left. Keep an eye out for our men below after you're done—watch for Ezio's silver bracers," she whispered to her comrade, whom nodded, and then they were moving again.

The first went down easy, having not even known she was there until her Hidden Blade found the back of his throat. She shoved him down and skirted the distance to the next. He saw her at the last second and almost shouted in alarm, but she struck his face with her firs, tripped his leg out from under him, and shove the Blade into his chest. He made a gurgle and went still. One more remained, and he was a fighter. Catherine was glad no one else was around, because he let out a sound of surprise and even a curse as he tried to aim his gun, which jammed. He resorted to a short dagger, but even that would not save him. She deflected it with her Blade, grabbed his wrist to yank him forward, and shoved the weapon into his gut. He gasped, dropped to his knees, and rolled over as he bled out. She cut his throat just in case.

Catherine looked out to the play, her work done. A decent crowd was there, entranced by the display of Christ on the Cross. She wasn't sure which one was Pietro, nor was she sure who Micheletto was with torches being the main light, but she thought he was maybe the one in the black shirt. He had the right hair and body shape, anyways. She almost couldn't find her husband and Assassins, but then she saw a glint of light reflecting off silver. Good. He was doing alright and moving about in the "stage". She quickly scanned around and found more soldiers loitering about.

Damn. There was a lot.

Catherine glanced up and saw Salvaza was done and had met her gaze. She motioned to the guards a level below then and received a nod. Good. The woman understood. There was a lot, but if they picked them off slowly, it would work, or at least make things easier.

Glancing down, the redhead noted the single guard below. Any others were walking away at the moment or were far off enough they wouldn't notice right away. Readying her blade, she took the plunge. The man grunted when her weight fell on him, crumpling his legs. She shoved her weapon into his neck to be sure, then made a beeline for the closest group. It was a brute and a swordsman, the latter she took out at once with a blow through his back and into his heart. The brute gasped in surprise, but she sprung at him, shoving her Blade into his neck, right through the space in his armor. He coughed red splatters and made to swing at her, but she side-stepped it, and he staggered forward only to fall and drown in his own blood.

Catherine jogged onwards, keeping to the shadows as best as she could to make the next move. It was waylaid, though, as screams erupted from the crowd. She stopped short, moving to one of the space between pillars. She was slammed into by the audience that came her way, but she kept steady and pressed through. She came out upon a battle scene as Borgia guards met Roman ones, and one female Assassin recruit. On the hill, Ezio had a hold of their target by the collar. He hadn't yet made the killing blow, which concerned her, so she rushed forward. A guard made to stop her, but she simply ducked and slashed him as she went. Dodging the rest was easy enough, but she made a point to take down one guard who had tried to come upon Ezio. He fell with a strike to the face, leaving a deep gash from his chin to his brow. She ignored his screams as she came near, turning to face the crowd.

"He poisoned Pietro!" her husband shouted, and the Borgia dog laughed.

"So, your woman has come as well. Ah, how nostalgic," he laughed. "Come for your 'vengeance' again? Will you have to stop your rabid bitch this time I wonder?"

"You will hold your tongue," Ezio hissed, though paused when Catherine put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't give him the satisfaction. He's not worth it," she spoke, looking down at the man, who suddenly did not seem so cocky. "He's barely even worth killing."

"You will not win—you cannot! We know all your secrets!" he snarled, suddenly struggling in Ezio's grip. He stopped, though, when steel met the flesh of his neck. He made a choking sound, touching at his neck where red began to soak his collar. Ezio let him fall, and he lay there, eyes wide and mouth agape at the sky. Catherine looked down on him, the fight fading from her focus as blood trickled off her Blade.

"I am nothing like you," she murmured, and, not caring if he heard, returned her mind to the task at hand. "Get him down—we'll take care of the guards!"

"Hurry! We may not have long!" Ezio barked back, taking out throwing knives to cut through the ties of the actor, whom yelped in surprise and confusion. Catherine moved back into the fray, ramming her shoulder into a guard charging at one of her own. He went tumbling, and she followed him down to strike him in the chest. Her Assassins were holding strong, thought she could tell one or two had been injured already. They were winning, though, and by the time she'd taken down two more Borgia—and received two cuts, one to her arm and another to her leg—they were victorious.

"More might be coming. Everyone, group on Ezio and cover him!" she barked, drawing her sword for an extra weapon. Behind them, her husband carried the actor, who looked wounded, but it was only his "make up". He was groggy-looking, though, as if not all there, and groaned uncomfortably. The poison was working, which meant they needed to get going. She motioned and they made for the exit. As she guessed, more guards came, but they fended them off, pushing through to the exit where Ezio moved into as quick of a jog as he could. By some miracle, a doctor was not far away, stationed safely between some ruined homes that gave them a bit of privacy. While he went on ahead, the redhead turned to her recruits, taking in their state. As far as she could tell, they were just minorly wounded.

"Alright, well done, all of you. Hurry and return to either the sanctuary or any place you know is safe. Stay low for a few days, then report back to us. Get to a doctor if needed. You did great. You've done the Order proud," she smiled warmly, and she saw their shoulders rise some. "Now, go! Hurry before more guards come!"

They scattered and she sighed in relief. A lot of things could have gone wrong, but it was finally over. Well, mostly over. Pietro was still in danger, but she could already see the Doctor was giving the man medicine. Ezio's shoulders visibly relaxed as she came by him and he breathed a sigh out through his nose. He spared her a smile, though, and asked her to wait for him as he trotted off—towards the spot they'd originally started from, she noted. She took the time to regard what had happened, especially the death of Micheletto. Before, she would have indulged in the sight of his bloodied corpse. Hell, she would have done anything to make him suffer agony before he went, but his quick death had been enough. There was no joy or elation, just a sense of having done her duty; of having done what was required of an Assassin.

She was relieved by the notion.

"So, will he live?" she inquired of the Doctor, whom nodded.

"Yes, although leeches will lead to a full recovery… ah, there we are, my good Sir," the healer hummed, putting a hand on Pietro's back as the man lifted himself up.

He groaned, "I… feel better. Ah, you… you were at the play… and—oh! You! You are the one who saved me, thank-you."

Ezio returned, fully armored once more, held out his hand, and spoke plainly, "The key to the Castel Sant'Angelo. Now."

"What are you talking about? I am simply a poor actor—," Pietro began to ramble.

Catherine rolled her eyes with a sigh, "We know about you and Lucrezia. And so does Cesare—otherwise he wouldn't have sent his dog to poison you."

"Oh…. H-here."

"Good. Now keep your head low," Ezio hummed, taking the key dropped into his hand and turning away. Catherine followed him, a small smirk at her lips.

"Well, that went pretty good."

"I admit, I'm surprise it did," he chuckled back, glancing to her. He did a double take, though, and picked up her hand—the one attached to her wounded arm. "You're hurt."

"Couple of lucky swipes. Nothing bad. I'll be good as new by tomorrow. For now, we need to focus on the next step of our plan for getting into the Castel… and how to deal with Volpe. We need to find Machiavelli, too, and keep him safe."

Ezio scowled, "Damn… I almost forgot. Shit. I think Machiavelli is at his Villa. We will need to… to…."

Catherine frowned, watching her husband's gaze move somewhere beyond her. She spun around, but nothing seemed out of place. At least, not until she saw a thief. Normally, that wasn't too terribly unusual, but she didn't think Volpe had some right by the Colosseo, and he was coming from within—in a hurry, too. He looked worried, and when he turned their way and spotted them, he froze.

"He… wait—you! You were at the Villa during the attack!" Ezio suddenly barked, and the thief bolted. "Fuck! Catherine, we have to catch him!"

"What—why? Shit!" she rasped back, but her husband was already gone. She cursed as she raced after, hating how fast the little bastard was. She didn't know why Ezio wanted to chase him down, but something was fishy. Why would a thief run from them? Why would he go to the Colosseo? What did he have to do with the Villa? Too many questions, and too many worries that the man would get away.

Then—he stumbled.

Ezio was on him instantly, crossing the remaining distance to yank the man's collar and wring him up in the air, "Why did you run?"

"I—," the man started to stutter, hands waving. Ezio caught sight of the paper in his fingers and snatched it away. Catherine didn't see the words, but she did see the red emblem and sign of the Borgia. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. The thief had a letter for the Borgia. He was where Micheletto had gone to. He ran from them-Assasins.

"You are the traitor!" Ezio snarled, raising his Blade to the man's throat. "Talk, you fucking bastard!"

The thief's eyes were wild, flicking to the Blade. His mind worked quick, and a snarl appeared on his face as he grabbed Ezio's wrist.

"Long live the Borgia!" he howled and shoved the steel into his throat.

"Jesus!" Catherine gasped as her husband dropped the man. "What in the fuck?! What just happened?"

"He was the traitor! Shit! He was at the Villa! I… God damn him! I told him where the secret passage went out! That's how the Borgia knew where to find us! This bastard led them right to us! He's the one who's been leaking all our plans!"

The redhead cursed again, "All this time… Fuck me, Micheletto was right all this time… how could we miss this? We… oh no. Wait… then… Ezio—Machiavelli! La Volpe doesn't know yet. We have to get to him quick! He needs to see the letter!"

"We need to go now—go, go! Get to horses!" her husband barked, urging her onwards.

It was a mad dash, adrenaline surging through their veins as quickly as their heart could pump the blood. So much ran on making it to their friend in time, and they had no idea when La Volpe would strike. They hoped it would not be too soon, but their comrade had been dead set on taking down the innocent man. They had a good guess of where he was, knowing Machiavelli remained near his home more with a wife and child, so that was where they aimed for. They were farther away than liked, though, having to traverse the countryside back into the city, crossing the bridge over the river, and winding their way through the streets while avoiding guards and people. All the while time wasn't on their side, and every passing second was another potential moment for La Volpe to make a fatal mistake.

Her mind was so wrapped up in the what-ifs and worries, she barely registered they had reached the impressive Villa. Ezio pointed to a ledge where Machiavelli stood, admiring the city. They leapt from their mounts and rushed onwards at a sprint, refusing to let their chance slip by. Fear spiked, though, when they glimpsed the orange garb and the dark cloak of their ally. In his hand, a dagger glimmering silver in the moonlight. He prowled closer to Machiavelli, a predator surging in on his prey.

Catherine was certain it was only by some miracle that they reached La Volpe, just moments before he would make his strike. He was, thankfully, far enough back they weren't noticed as Ezio grabbed Volpe's arm to stop him, and nearly threw the letter he'd taken into his face.

"Stop! We found the traitor!" he hissed, and the thief balked.

"What?!"

"One of our men, he was the Villa attack. Here, take the letter he carried," her husband explained. Catherine glanced back as Volpe took the parchment, reading over it quickly. Machiavelli had turned, no doubt having heard them, and was decidedly surprised to see them. She merely smiled and waved, praying he didn't notice how fast her heart was pounding. To think he had nearly been killed by their own—for a rumor!

"My God," the thief breathed, shaking his head.

"What is the matter, my friend?" the nobleman spoke up, coming up beside the group. Catherine had never seen the thief look sheepish or embarrassed in any way, but she supposed the lop-sided smile as he glanced down was sign enough.

"It seems our dear Mentors have discovered—and taken care of—a traitor in our midst. It is no wonder we faced many difficulties at first before we changed our system. But it seems we were not so thorough; the thief knew many locations and movements of our men."

"Then this is good news," Machiavelli smiled.

Ezio chuckled, doing a good job to hide his earlier worry, "More than you know."

"I am once again in your debt, my friends. Both of you."

"What debt is there amongst friends who trust one another?" the Assassin smiled back.

"Besides, we all have to help out one another, and we owe you just as much for all you've done for us," Catherine chuckled, earning one in kind.

"Well, you still have my thanks for relaying this message in time," La Volpe replied, bowing his head before turning to the nobleman. "Come, Niccolò, it has been far too long since we have talked."

"Of course. The latest I have heard is that the Colosseo Passion Play took an unexpected turn this evening," the man hummed as he walked with the thief, the latter's arm on his shoulder.

"Really?"

"It seems Jesus Christ was resurrected three days early," Machiavelli laughed.

Behind them, the two Assassins left behind visibly released a long breath of air. Catherine made a point to approach the nearby bench in the nobleman's courtyard and slumped down on it. Ezio joined her a moment later, groaning. She pat his thigh gently, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Relief flooded through her, leaving her feeling exhausted. She knew her husband was much the same even as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm getting old," he grunted after a moment.

She laughed, "Yeah, me, too."

"Is it too soon to retire?"

"…Yeah, dammit, it is. Maybe in a few more years."

"Can we at least sleep until tomorrow evening?"

"I am totally up for that," Catherine laughed, patting his leg again. "If we're lucky we can make it until the morning after."

"Oh, that's daring. We have young children after all. And we do have to break into the Castel at some point."

"Well, we can try, right?"

"We can try," Ezio chuckled, and, with a grunt, stood up. He held out his hand for his wife, "Well, shall we head home, love?"

She looked at his hand for a moment before nodding and taking his head, "Yeah, let's go home."

29 – End

TMWolf: And there we have it! Micheletto is dead! Now, in terms of the novel and outside-the-game scenes, this is a big deal. But if you don't know all that, then no worries. But he wasn't supposed to die here or any time soon, really, and not by the hands of an Assassin. He's killed by Cesare in Milan I think, but definitely not Rome xD But not this time! Catherine puts an end to it, and also to Volpe's suspicions. Had fun working some, uh, reality into this xD The game made it a little silly, but ah well.

Right. So.

One more target remains.

Won't be easy, though. That, I promise you.

P.S. Our poor Catzio are feeling the years xD