Her faithful followers held up arms to catch their now twice-fallen angel. She hit hard, cracking her spine as they tried to break her fall. Faces suddenly surrounded her as she sank down among them. Hands grabbed at her. Hot, humid, stinking breath came from all directions. At her back, she felt the hot pavement as she finally hit the ground. She felt fingers all over her. It was drowning on dry land. She couldn't keep focused on any one face; they all just swirled around her, yelling unintelligible noises at her. She closed her eyes, trying to push away from it. Again, Aurelia put her feet under her, trying to stand. Those in her vicinity grabbed her arms, raising her up, but too high by inches.

"Please! Step away!" Nothing seemed to register with them. She felt a dull throb run through her body. Hands blindly reached over others to touch her, smacking her in the face. Fingers pulled her hair, at her dress. She felt herself moving, being carried by the current of bodies. Her toes brushed the ground maybe twice? Had Borgia been correct all along? I would be curious how you would escape with your life. His words rang in her ears.

An arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled hard in the other direction. She tried to struggle free, but being carried, she had no momentum of her own. She tried kicking away, shaking free, but nothing was working. The arm pulled her again, harder this time. Aurelia felt a sleeve tear away from her dress.

"My lady!"

"Antonio! Help me!" she cried. The arm was joined by another. Other hands were losing holds as two arms around her pulled her down toward the pavement. She let her arms go slack and over her head, slipping the balance of the mob's hold. Her knees hit hard and she felt one hand push her head down. There was a hot breath on the back of her neck.

"Don't move! I have you!" Antonio! She reflexively grabbed at his shoulder and held on for dear life as the crowd washed over them both. Feet kept kicking as they walked to where they thought the angel was. She was stepped on over and over. Antonio grunted more than once as he was knocked into by others. "Can you walk, my lady?"

"Yes. I think I can!"

He counted into her ear and they stood together. He kept her in front of him, pushing her against the crowd. He guided her through the mess with one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. She kept wincing as people still continued to push into them. None of them could recognize her. Standing on the carriage, they had only seen her at a distance. Here on the ground, she was hardly tall enough to make eye contact with anyone.

"Here, my lady!" He steered her hard toward the right, an entryway of a villa, a small garden. She turned immediately as they cleared the pillars and watched as the multitude pushed forward, unaware of what had happened.

Aurelia dropped to the ground, exhausted. Antonio wiped at his brow with a handkerchief and slouched against the opposite wall, his own chest heaving. The heavy chain that signified his place in the household was now hanging around him like a holster, most likely to prevent some thief from procuring it.

Aurelia blinked back tears for a moment, trying to desperately think of something angelic to say, but her brain was too electrified, too frenetic. "I think," She said swallowing hard, "that I will be needing a new dress." Antonio looked at her and laughed.

"Indeed, my lady Aurelia. And new shoes." He nodded toward her feet. She was wearing one brown slipper. She was certain it was white when she had dressed this morning.

"Antonio, you saved my life. Thank you." She tried to push off from the wall to stand, but he waved her off.

"No, my lady, please. It's what any gentleman would've done." He came to her and rested his back against the wall. He slid down next to her. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer him immediately. She wiggled her toes. None were broken. She was covered in handprints, but no permanent damage. Her hands were full of splinters, she could feel hanks of hair had been ripped out of her head. Her hands were cold and shaking. The taste of blood had been present for some time now, but nothing felt loose. She opened her mouth to report her findings, but he was not watching her. He was looking over her head, to her other end of the yard, not fifteen meters away.

In the cool shadows were two men. One was seated on the side of a flowerbed the other peering out from behind another pillar. They had been in conversation, though now it seemed something more interesting was happening. Aurelia showed no emotion, or thought she wasn't. She didn't move until she saw one bring up a hood. A white hood. Assassins.

"Good day, gentlemen," Antonio began, picking himself up to a courteous bow. "We did not mean to intrude, but the lady was overcome in the midst of that-gathering- there. We just need a moment to catch out breaths and we'll be on our way and out of yours."

She watched them for a moment as they watched her. No hands went to hilts, no wrists flexed. Aurelia tried to smile weakly.

The seated man stood. His hair was long and slick, his beard hadn't been trimmed for a few days. They were on lookout. He said something to the other man who was coming out from behind to get a better look. She couldn't see his face.

"Of course, friend," the hooded man said, finally. "Stay as long as the lady needs."

Aurelia nodded graciously. "Bless you both, Signore."

"What was all that commotion about anyway? Execution?" The man with the long hair asked. He unhooked a wine skin from his belt. He uncorked it and held its mouth under a fountain in the corner of the garden.

Aurelia went to answer, but Antonio stepped in. "There was a visiting dignitary from the Vatican that had everyone in an uproar." The unhooded assassin offered the wineskin. Her guardian nodded and thanked the man as it was thrown to him.

"My lady? Please. Refresh yourself." Antonio unstoppered it again handed it to her. She in turn looked to the assassin and nodded her thanks. The water was cold. It had an odd odor to it, but she had been drinking bottled water for years now. This was unfiltered and pure. Or sewage. She tried very hard not to think about it. She poured a bit into her hand and scrubbed at her face. She had almost forgotten the splinters.

"Dignitary? You mean that 'angel', do you not?" he returned.

"Most likely," his compatriot offered. The first man harrumphed.

"Do you believe it, Lady? The angel? Is that why you braved your guarded tower to play with the rabble?" Just on the other side of the wall, shouts and crying were still peaking. Somewhere, the sound of gunfire popped.

"I believe that to God, we are all nobles or all rabble. He does not see titles." That sounds like a safe answer. "But yes, that is why I was here today. The crowd was just…" she tried to find an appropriate word. "They were just overcome." Aurelia tried to stand. Antonio offered a hand. Slowly she crossed to the long-haired man. "Thank you very much for the water. I had a great need of it."

"You are most welcome, Lady." His expression showed he wasn't sincere. She and Antonio had invaded their territory. The fact they hadn't been killed on the spot had been its own reward.

She turned to rejoin with her guide. The sun was suddenly glaring down. She hadn't truly learned how to tell time by the sun, but it had to be around noon; the shadows were short. Aurelia must have stared down at the flowerbed for longer than she had meant.

"Is the lady ill at ease?" the hooded man asked, stepping toward her. Oh. No.

"Thank you, I'm alright. Just the commotion. Left me a bit weak, is all. Antonio, would you please?" she laughed weakly to herself. He walked over to her calmly.

"Let's see you home, my lady." She leaned heavily on his arm.

"I thank you both for the brief respite, Signore." The heat was making her dizzy. "Antonio." She whispered. "They've poisoned me."

"Poisoned you, Lady Aurelia? No." he kept walking toward the opening.

"They have! My arms are heavy and I can hardly see!" Her mouth went dry. She was going to fail her mission.

"I misspoke. They haven't poisoned you. I poisoned you."

She looked up at him, wide eyed, but her vision was blurring. Antonio was smiling down at her, holding her up all of her weight.

"And I believe drugged you would be the more acceptable term. Just a nice little somnifacient, to help you get some rest." Aurelia pushed away from him, making a break for the street. She could lose him in the crowd. Her head was swimming and the more she tried to walk, the worse it got.

"Gentlemen, I may require your assistance," Antonio called. "Our angel here doesn't like having her wings clipped."

She tried to call for help, but no words would stick in her brain. Just sounds of the cries and cheers of her followers. She felt herself go sideways. Antonio was, as always, there to catch her. He picked her up in his arms like a child. She kicked at him ineffectually. His voice was beginning to sound too far away.

"Now, now, my lady. These two are some of your faithful. See? They were in the hidden places. They've been awaiting the Messenger for some time."

She felt herself pass like a sack of flour to one of the assassins. Her eyes tried one last time to focus, but whatever they had put in the wineskin was far more powerful than her senses. Part of her training had been building up immunities to drugs, but whatever was coursing through her now was much different. Five hundred years of pharmaceutical refinement couldn't hold a candle to it. Yusef. Aurelia sank.

"Borgia will have your head for this, Brother," the long-haired man said as he watched Aurelia lose her battle.

"He's welcome to try," Antonio said. "I'll tell him what happened: The horses got spooked by the crowd and she was taken -no, ripped away- by the mob. I'll direct his investigations away from your district. Just make sure you get the answers you require without injuring her." He brushed the hair out of her face and closed her open mouth. "I have a feeling The Messenger will need her strength to put an end to Borgia and the Templars."