The Auditore Challenge

by Liva Wilborg

When Ezio finds himself on the wrong end of his own profession, poisoned by a beautiful foreign woman, where can he go for help? Leonardo's, of course... The inventor must brave Venice's high, and lower, society in search of the foreign assassin to try to get the antidote to save Ezio's life.

2. Chapter 2 Visitors

The Auditore Challenge - by Liva Wilborg

Chapter 2: Visitors

"Damn you, girl, would you stand still! What am I paying you for?" Leonardo gestured incredulously with his sketchbook at the young woman, her dress tied down around her hips. Her flowing, golden hair reached her waist and somehow neatly avoided hiding her round breasts.

"I have been standing like this for hours." Detta yelled: "My arms will fall off if I have to do this much longer." She wobbled her arms in exaggerated muscle spasms as she gave an angry shriek.

"It has not been hours, it has been a few moments! Every time you move, your hair and hands change."

"That's because I'm breathing!" Detta snapped.

"It's not the breathing!" Leonardo raised his voice: "It's because you are screaming like a cheap whore."

"I." she shouted, breaking out of the pose to grab an apple from a nearby table: "Am." she aimed: "Not." and threw the fruit at him, her naked breasts bobbing: "Cheap!"

The apple sailed through the air and Leonardo instinctively reached out for it, trying to hide his surprise when he caught it. Her aim was really improving; a fact he found slightly disconcerting.

"I know you aren't cheap, Detta, as I am in fact paying you..." he said, putting the apple down casually on a nearby table. "Now stand still! I have to go out in a moment, so please; just cooperate."

"…And it'll all be over soon." she scoffed: "I hear that a lot." She arranged her hair and raised her arms anew. "You could at least fuck me… It's weird that you don't."

Leonardo sat back down and worked fast, the scratch of the charcoal and quill the only sound, as he studied the pose and the way the candlelight, placed behind her to imitate the sunlight he imagined in the scene for the painting, shone off her hair.

"Don't you find me beautiful? Is that why?" she asked quietly after a while, not breaking the pose.

"I use you as a model for holy women and goddesses... You are beautiful." He commented absentmindedly as he worked.

Detta was quiet for a while; then she sighed gently: "What is this for, anyway?"

"Hm?"

"This stupid pose. What is it suppose to be."

"A commission for-" Leonardo caught himself and suddenly laughed: "...an allegorical piece on virtue."

"Virtue? Why are my arms flapping in the air then? Is that your idea of virtue?"

"It's an elegant, yet dramatic, devotional pose."

"Why are my tits bare?"

"It's for a monastery." Leonardo laughed. "Now shut up, Virtue..."

Immersing himself in the work again he sighed when there was a knock on the door. Forcefully ignoring it, he continued working. Just when he thought the would-be guest had given up, a weak knock was heard.

Detta's arms fell: "Well, go open it. Do you see any apprentices around? Or do you think I'm going to do it?"

Sending her an annoyed look, he put the drawings down and answered the door. In the half-light cast by the coloured lanterns suspended around the festive stalls on the small plaza outside, a figure was slumped against the wall, the white hood hiding his face. Everything about him indicated that he was about to collapse.

There was something about him that was completely off, but before Leonardo fully realised what it was, he felt a bubble of sudden laughter burst: "Ezio?" he asked in amused disbelief: "I thought you didn't drink in public..." he grinned but then the mirth died when Ezio slowly turned towards him, the tenuous light shifted and Leonardo saw the blood on his pale face and the pained, feverish look in his eyes.

Leonardo reached out and Ezio stumbled forward, locking his arms around him, almost making the artist's knees buckle with the sudden weight.

They stood for a heartbeat like that, then Leonardo realised that they might be in very real danger if whoever had caused this had followed the assassin and he quickly pulled the nearly unconscious man into the workshop, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Detta!" he called urgently, his eyes on Ezio, trying to spot where he might be wounded, as he pulled the assassin's arm over his shoulder, supporting the stumbling man as he led him to a chair. Ezio let himself be deposited and Leonardo looked at him; felt the rapid, almost panicked pulse at the neck and the feverishly hot skin. Ezio's eyes fell shut.

"Who is that?" Detta asked quietly.

Leonardo spun around and saw Detta take a step back: "I need hot water and the basket of bandages I keep under the window in the kitchen. Please." Leonardo stated urgently.

She gave him a look like a cornered animal, standing for a moment frozen with apparent indecision; then she ran towards the door. Leonardo's eyes narrowed and he turned his full attention to Ezio. But then he heard the bolt sliding into the doorframe as Detta locked them in and she hurried past towards the kitchen, fighting with the knot keeping the dress around her hips. Leonardo felt a warm stab of gratitude towards her, as his fingers fought to remove the assassin's doublet.

There was a wound on Ezio's shoulder, but it wasn't severe enough to cause this kind of weakness. The fabric of the doublet had taken most of the damage and had acted as a bandage. There were a few cuts on the arms, Leonardo found after quickly cutting the shirt open with a nearby pen-knife: "What happened to you?" he asked as he worked. The only reply given was a weak shake of the head.

One cut on the arm had bitten quite deeply, the shirt sleeve soaked darkly with blood that was drying up, making the fabric feel stiff like paper under the artist's fingers.

There were dark bruises forming on Ezio's chest and sides but as Leonardo's fingers quickly tested the stricken areas, nothing seemed broken and the assassin hardly reacted, his breathing shallow, his eyes half closed.

A gash on the side of Ezio's knee had sliced the pants up, but the boots had taken much of the damage. There was a cut on his forehead, but though it bled a little it was neither deep nor serious.

Puzzled and worried, Leonardo suddenly realised, horrified, what was so different about Ezio. He felt like an idiot for not having grasped it earlier: the assassin was unarmed.

No sword, no knives, no hidden blades.

"Ezio!" he said "What has happened! Where are you wounded? Ezio!" he called as he realised that the man was unresponsive, slapping his face gently until the assassin opened his eyes again. Breath ragged and thin, it seemed he had to fight for every inhalation.

"Where are you wounded?" Leonardo asked again, his hands on Ezio's face, forcing him to keep eye contact.

Ezio shook his head: "Poison." he said; a look of sudden fury in his eyes.

There were running feet from the direction of the kitchen; Leonardo gently let Ezio sink back in the chair as Detta appeared. Her dress, though not exactly decent, covered her breasts again and her hair was held away from her face with a tight braid. She carried a pitcher and a small basket with bandages and clean cloth: "It's cold water. I'm working on the hot." she stated and retreated to the kitchen, casting long looks over her shoulder.

"Ezio?" Leonardo wrung the cloth with the cool, clear water and gently wiped the blood off his friend's face: "How were you poisoned?" he asked.

"Leonardo..." Ezio said, still fighting to breathe. "I don't want to... Combat is fine... But-" he faltered before forcing a gasping breath: "Don't let me die like this." He closed his fingers on Leonardo's arm as if to emphasise the statement, the grip weak.

"I won't. I promise you." Leonardo said and Ezio fell back in the chair, his fevered eyes closing.

"Which unfortunately means that I cannot let you sleep until I know what happened to you." Leonardo reached out to slap Ezio gently, but when the assassin's eyes remained closed, the artist opted instead for grabbing the wounded shoulder. He felt guilty when Ezio opened his eyes with a pained gasp.

"Tell me what happened." Leonardo insisted.

"A woman." Ezio said and the quick grin on his face was quickly wiped off when he gasped for breath.

"Irresistibly lovely, of course..." Leonardo commented. "What did she do?"

"Took... my weapons... I let her." He snarled and tried to push Leonardo away and get up: "She said I'd be dead by morning." he said as they struggled: "I will kill her before then..." he said and then fell back in the chair gasping for breath.

"Look at me!" Leonardo demanded, feeling the frantic heartbeat under his hands as he held his friend down: "You won't die. But you have to relax and explain what happened." he said urgently.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Detta approach with a basin of hot water. She put it down on a nearby table: "That's a lot of blood." she said, unusually subdued.

"I need you to do me a favour, Detta." Leonardo said and saw her nod: "I need you to go and fetch a... friend of mine, Aurelio Augurello. His house is in the eastern part of Santa Croce, just by the San Giacomo dall'Orio church. The facade of his house is yellow with a frieze of blue acanthus leaves. You can't miss it-" he stopped himself at the nonplussed look in her face.

"The house what?" she asked.

"The house has a broad stripe of blue flowers above the entrance from the street..." he explained leading her towards the door: "Go there, demand to see Signore Augurello and tell him that I have been poisoned and that I need his help."

"That you have been poisoned? But-"

"Please, just do it. He will try to get you to talk, but just tell him that you don't know anything more. Please, Detta. I can't leave him." he said, gesturing towards Ezio who was half collapsed again, still struggling to breathe as he stared feverishly at the ceiling.

"Signore Augurello. In Santa Croce by San Giacomo. Yellow house with blue flowers." Detta repeated.

"You queen among women!" Leonardo stated, holding the door for her as she slipped out, giving him a smile as she wrapped her shawl around her slim shoulders: "I'll hurry." was the last comment he heard from her before she disappeared down the street and he shut and re-bolted the door.

"Ezio!" he called at the sight of his friend slumping in the chair. "Tell me about the woman who did this." Leonardo said as he splashed some cold water in Ezio's face: "Stay alert."

It was like watching a drowning man struggling to the surface, fighting for every gasp of air.

"How did she poison you?" Leonardo asked as he started cleaning the wound on the shoulder, not gently, hoping the pain would keep his friend awake.

"Some powder first. Bitter tasting. Like this." Ezio held up his hand weakly and mimed blowing on his palm. Then he winced at the pain to his shoulder as the wound was cleaned and smeared with ointment. "And later..." he struggled: "She... cut me. She could have hurt me. But she only cut my arm." He had to stop to catch his tenuous breath and his eyes half closed again, his head tilting towards his chest.

"I'm going to stitch this up." Leonardo put pressure on the shoulder with one hand as the other rummaged in the basked for needle and thread. "Maybe I should mix the burdock salve with lemon juice and salt to keep you awake?" he added.

"If I die here, please..." the assassin began.

"You are not dying here!" Leonardo interjected with emphasis.

"...Then don't put me on the table and cut my corpse up." Ezio struggled to sit up straight and hold Leonardo's horrified gaze. Then a grin broke through on assassin's lips. Leonardo swiftly slapped the back of Ezio's head before he weakly collapsed back in the chair, gasping for breath.

Shaking his head in disbelief while trying to hide his smile, Leonardo held the wound close as he started stitching.

"That woman..." Ezio said, wincing at the pain as the thread was pulled through his flesh.

"Yes. Why did she poison you?"

"No. Not her." He drew a ragged breath, slumping forward again. Leonardo put a hand on his chest to push him back in the chair. "The blond girl. Here." Ezio continued.

"Bernadetta." Leonardo said. "What about her?" He continued stitching the wound up neatly.

"She was naked."

"You are definitely not dying." The needle travelled through the last bit of shoulder-flesh and the knot was tightened. Jaw muscles clenched as Ezio ground his teeth against the sting.

"The woman who poisoned you; you said she attacked you after she blew powder in your face?"

Ezio nodded slowly, raising his arm. "It felt like being drunk. And blinded. Then she cut me." The wound on his arm gaped and started bleeding again as he gestured with it. "I think I hit her. But she... ran and..." he wheezed for breath again, pulse quickening in anger: "...she had those people standing ready. ...Said it had to take time."

"Take time?" Leonardo quickly dipped the cloth in cold water, twisted it dry and put it on Ezio's forehead, holding him down: "Relax. You will live to resolve this. But you have to calm down." he said softly. "Now tell me what she said?"

"She said... that... their names were Arlo and... Taddeo?" Ezio frowned: "I think... Arlo and Taddeo."

Leonardo felt one eyebrow climb as he wondered if a lack of breath had finally pushed his friend into a delirium. "And who are they?" he finally asked.

"I don't know. I didn't understand." Ezio raised his head and held Leonardo's gaze with an effort: "Her name is Mette. Foreigner. From the north. Red curls. Wolf eyes. Silvery. ...Pale. She said that they were named Taddeo and Arlo and that their mother loved them! You have to help me find her. And don't look at me that way, as if you think I am mad. I will-"

He stopped, again fighting to draw breath, agitated. Leonardo watched helplessly as he tried to ease the pain of the attack by cooling down Ezio's feverish skin with the cold cloth.

"I don't think you are madder than usual..." the artist lied. "Is there anything you can tell me about these people, Arlo and Taddeo?" he asked, puzzled, a feeling of recognition sneaking up on him as if he had heard the names before. He searched his memory but nothing came to mind and frowning, he put the cloth back on the table, scratching the names in the margin of a notebook.

"I have never heard of them. I don't know." Ezio said quietly.

"But their mother loved them?"

"That is what she said."

"It sounds like you have found yourself on the wrong end of your own profession, doesn't it..." Leonardo said.

"She was far too young to have grown children. And I have never killed a child. Never!"

"I know. I know." Leonardo said, gently pushing Ezio back in the chair. "But that means that this woman; Mette, was it?"

Ezio nodded.

"...Maybe she works for the loving mother? Have you killed anyone whose name you didn't know? Brothers presumably?" Leonardo continued as he studied the cut on Ezio's lower arm.

"Brothers, I don't know. But I have killed unknown people sometimes; when it has been unavoidable." Ezio mumbled.

"But recently?" Leonardo enquired.

"Five in the last few hours..." the assassin commented wearily. "The three in the house... The others... They attacked... I..." his voice trailed off and his eyes closed as he tried to control his breath.

Leonardo found himself at a loss for what to say. Sometimes the gap between what was acceptable in their lives staggered him and he shook his head as if to dislodge this feeling of distance between them and turned his attention instead to the cut on Ezio's arm. It was fairly deep. The knife must have been very sharp. Even though it had bled furiously a small trace of a dark, oily substance was smeared on the skin and he gently wiped it off with a corner of the cloth, frowning.

The substance was odourless when he sniffed it and Leonardo put the cloth away, picking up the rag of the shirt Ezio had worn. A small amount of the dark poison was on the sleeve where the knife had bit through the fabric. It looked as if the poison itself had been ground with a colourless oil, almost like a pigment for painting.

He put both items aside. Aurelio would know what to do; his knowledge of medicines, poisons and their alchemical relationships was extensive. But Leonardo found himself silently praying that it wasn't too late as he watched Ezio, pale, slumped, fighting for every breath.

"I'm sorry, Leonardo." Ezio finally said as the artist started cleaning the cut on his arm. "I didn't know where else to go."

"A few years ago you told me that peace was not the opposite of interesting..." Leonardo grinned: "I think I agree. So I am reconciled with you making my life exciting. And never again apologise for calling on me when you need me!" he said and then his pulse jumped suddenly when there was a firm and precise knock on the door. He put a steadying hand on Ezio's good shoulder: "Relax, I asked a friend here to help you." he said and hurried to the door, drawing a deep, steadying breath before opening.

The full force of Aurelio's razor sharp stare hit Leonardo the moment the door opened. The severity of the black cloak, the dark eyebrows frowning, the silver stripe in his black hair and the tension of passionate anger held carefully under control nearly pushed Leonardo a step backwards, and he had to force himself to stand his ground.

"I am going to assume that this is some sort of amusing carnival trick that you have concocted, because, and I am really not overwhelmingly surprised, you do not appear particularly ill... Did I somehow misinterpret the situation, Leonardo?" Aurelio stated, crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry for the deception." Leonardo stepped aside quietly and gestured for Aurelio to come in: "Please. Let me explain? You know there is always a reason."

Behind Aurelio, Leonardo spotted Detta standing with a bulky, heavy bag, looking flustered.

"I should certainly hope that you have a reason for sending a loud-mouthed whore to lure me away from my own party under false pretences." he stated tautly, and crossed the threshold to the workshop with something akin to dislike on his sharp, aquiline features.

The eyes were darker than Leonardo remembered and Aurelio's presence was quite imposing as he moved closer, the velvet of the heavy cloak whispering softly around him: "Now I wonder..." he continued: "What do you hope to gain!"

Leonardo made no reply, but turned his head to look at Ezio, Aurelio following his gaze. Ezio was slumped in the chair; his head cast back, seeming like a dead man if not for the occasional pained gasp for breath.

"I need your help." Leonardo said, watching as the stern eyes took in the sight and Aurelio's expression changed to stone.

"I see." he simply stated. "You felt impelled to lie to me, again, in order to secure my assistance for someone else. How perfectly you." he suddenly whirled towards Detta who was easing the bag to the floor: "How many times do I have to tell you to be careful with that, you silly strumpet, there are live specimens in it." he snapped.

"You know..." Detta smiled sweetly: "Why don't you tell me a few more times!" she pushed a lock of dishevelled hair out of her eyes: "Because-" she pointed at Leonardo, her voice gradually rising: "He is paying me for every single one of your insults, and compensating me on top of that for all the money I could have made on a carnival night if I was not running errands like a servant and carrying the luggage of an angry old blackbird." the sentence ended in a scream and she pulled the shawl around her shoulders and stomped off to the kitchen, slamming the door.

Both men looked after her, silent for a heartbeat. Then Leonardo sighed: "Would you have come if you had known the truth?"

"No. But do not for a moment tell yourself that this justifies your action."

"He is my friend. He is dying. I can't help him. You can." Leonardo said as he held the irate, black gaze.

"But why in the world would I do that?"

Leonardo gave a mirthless laugh: "Aurelio... Stop it." He held out his arm demandingly: "Give me your cloak. You are staying and we both know it."

The black eyes narrowed dangerously, but the older man held his tongue and settled for a scowl.

"You are here," Leonardo continued: "...and you are not going to let a man die when you can prevent it. Regardless of what's between us. I know you."

Aurelio took a few steps, bringing them close enough to feel each other's breath: "Would you do the same for me?" he asked, the anger just below the surface mixed with curiosity.

"That depends entirely on your actions in the next few moments." Leonardo stated.

"That is extortion, you bastard son of a notary!" Aurelio exclaimed vehemently; but under the angry glare Leonardo recognised a softening, a teetering on the edge of enjoyment. He smiled triumphantly and caught Aurelio's cloak as it was irritably thrown at him.

"What happened to him!" Aurelio demanded as he crossed to Ezio's prone figure.

"He was poisoned. I don't know with what. First the woman who attacked him blew some powder in his face; then cut his arm with a poisoned blade, as I understand it. There is some residue of the poison on his shirt." the artist explained as he quickly put the cloak on a chair and hurried to Ezio's side: "I've kept him awake. I didn't dare to let him sleep. I hope I did the right thing." he said.

"Sounds reasonable." Aurelio nodded before leaning closer and gently turning Ezio's face towards the light. "Look at me, young man, if you please. A woman did this?" Aurelio asked,

"Yes. A woman." Ezio finally responded.

"You seem to be in fairly decent shape, so I will assume this is not your normal heart rate." Aurelio stated dryly.

"Listen... Old man..." Ezio began.

"How is your vision?" Aurelio continued.

"Moving more than usual."

"Dry mouth? Thirsty?"

Ezio slowly turned his gaze to Leonardo: "Is he asking me out for a drink?"

Leonardo smiled.

"I'm glad to see that you are not as dense as you look, young man." Aurelio gently padded Ezio's cheek: "Must be all the healthy bloodletting you seem to enjoy."

Ezio made no reply, his head tilting back, eyes closing.

"So, have you any idea what it is? The poison?" Leonardo asked.

"Dilated pupils, wild heart rate, difficulty breathing, female culprit... My best guess right now is a heavy dose of nightshade. Quite a feminine poison... But I'm not certain. It could be other substances and the problem is that what potentially cures him if it is nightshade potentially kills him if it's not." Aurelio shrugged as he started unpacking a host of different vials and jars from his bag: "I'm assuming our wounded bird of prey here would not welcome the intervention of any authorities?"

Leonardo nodded slowly: "He wouldn't..." he stated and then shook his head: "I mean, that would be a little much."

"I'm certain it would..." Aurelio agreed dryly. "But then unless you yourself are going to find the woman who did this and ask her politely for information or an antidote; well... I will do what I can for him, but I'm afraid you will just have to watch and help me keep him conscious."

"...To find her." Leonardo said, his body standing still, his mind working frantically. Then he hurried to a shelf in the crowded workshop where he rummaged through sketches, scrolls and notes before he found the stack of invitations. Some had been sent; some had been given when he had visited with patrons and clients; he had even been cornered while at church and given one of the invitations by the giggling Morosini sisters.

"You are not seriously contemplating actually running off into the night to search for a murderous woman with poison on her knife!" Aurelio stated forcefully.

Leonardo just grinned: "You haven't heard of someone named Arlo and Taddeo, have you?"

"No," Aurelio snapped. "...but If they are anything like your scarred Muse of Conflict here, they must be thugs. Leonardo!"

The artist paid his conscious guest no mind as he leafed through the invitations and finally found the perfect inspiration. Jacobo Pasqualigo, captain of the city guards...

In Leonardo's mind, he saw the possibilities of actions and counteractions stretching out before him like a river delta to be navigated. He studied the vista of potential situations. First he had to make certain that the woman didn't leave the city. If she was a stranger, she would be less likely to be anchored to any place within the confines of the city, and she might try to flee.

His mind flitted and jumped quickly from one scenario to the next and he speedily threw on his doublet and cloak and started packing a few essentials for what he expected would be a long night.