TOSCANA
1476
The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the craggy landscape of the Tuscan countryside in warm, golden hues. Despite the serene beauty of the rolling hills and the way the sky blazed with orange and red, tension crackled in the air like a brewing storm. Amelia could feel it in every step, every breath—an unease that clung to their small group as they made their way through the winding canyon roads toward Monteriggioni.
Ezio led the way, his jaw set in a hard line, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his new sword. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, scanning for any hint of movement. Amelia stayed close behind, walking beside Giovanni. She shared a knowing glance with him, her own unease reflected in his eyes as they both caught the exhaustion etched across Ezio's face. The journey had taken a toll on all of them, but Amelia knew they couldn't afford to slow down, not until they reached the safety of the villa.
Maria and Claudia followed, their faces pale with fatigue, each step more labored than the last. Claudia's breaths came in sharp, trembling gasps, and Maria's hand shook as she clutched her daughter's arm. Petruccio walked close to his mother, his wide eyes scanning their surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Amelia felt every aching step in her bones, but she forced herself onward, keeping pace with Giovanni and casting frequent glances over her shoulder to ensure none of Vieri's men had trailed them from Florence.
Ezio's voice broke the tense silence, a touch of hope edging into his words. "We should be close." He cast a look back at Claudia, concern creasing his brow as he took in her pale, drawn face.
"Grazie a Dio," Claudia murmured, her voice trembling with relief as she leaned more heavily into her mother's side.
But just as a flicker of hope began to lighten the weight on their shoulders, they rounded a bend in the road, and their path came to a jarring halt. A figure blocked their way, dressed in the fine clothes of a noble, flanked by a group of armed men. Vieri de' Pazzi.
Amelia's heart clenched with immediate loathing. Vieri stood with his chest puffed out, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement, a predator toying with cornered prey. The mere sight of him set Amelia's blood boiling. She remembered the vicious arrogance in his eyes back in Florence, the callous way he had spoken of the death of Ezio's father and brothers. Now, he had come to gloat, to revel in their fear.
"Buon giorno, Ezio!" Vieri's voice rang out, mocking and overly cheerful. "How could you leave Firenze without saying a proper goodbye?" His tone dripped with false politeness, each word laced with malice. He took a step closer, letting his gaze sweep over their group, lingering on the weariness in their faces, the vulnerability of the women.
Ezio's jaw tightened, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his body shifting slightly to shield his mother and sister from Vieri's leering gaze. Amelia moved up beside him, her expression darkening as she caught the gleam in Vieri's eyes—a look she knew too well. Arrogance. Cruelty. A twisted pleasure in their suffering.
"What do you want, Vieri?" Ezio's voice was cold, brittle as he fought to keep his anger in check.
Vieri's smirk widened, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his own sword. "So many things! A larger palazzo, two new steeds, a prettier bride..." His eyes flicked to Amelia, lingering on her with a predatory gleam that made her skin crawl. "Oh, and yes... your life." He drew his sword with a flourish, his smile turning sinister. "My condolences for the loss of your brother, Ezio! Though I am here to finish what Uberto couldn't. Giovanni, I have such wonderful plans for your wife and daughter! And you, Amelia—I'm sure you'll make a lovely addition to my household."
Amelia's grip tightened on the hilt of her blade, anger boiling in her chest. The implication of his words made her stomach churn with disgust. She took a step forward, her eyes flashing with defiance, but before she could respond, Ezio moved ahead of her, his own rage bubbling to the surface.
"If you lay a hand on them, Vieri, I swear—" Ezio's voice trembled with barely contained fury, but Vieri cut him off with a dismissive wave, his expression turning bored.
"I grow tired of this game. Finish them. And bring me Amelia, Cesare wants to have words with her." Vieri's voice dripped with venomous authority as he gestured to his men. The soldiers advanced with swords drawn, their eyes cold and determined, but before they could reach Ezio, a stone flew through the air, striking one of the attackers squarely on the head. The sword clattered from his hand, and he stumbled back with a cry.
Vieri spun around, his face twisting with outrage as he searched the shadows. "What sorcery is this?!"
A gruff voice answered from the darkness, filled with the confidence of a seasoned warrior. "Not sorcery, boy. Skill."
"Show yourself!" Vieri snarled, his expression contorting with fury.
From the shadows stepped a tall figure in battle-worn armor, his face framed by a salt-and-pepper beard. He moved with the grace of a warrior who had seen countless battles, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. With a practiced ease, he tossed a sword to Giovanni, who caught it with a nod of thanks.
"Here! Use this!" the man called, his voice carrying over the canyon's walls. A sword went flying in the air towards Giovanni who caught it like the expert he was.
Vieri's face twisted in anger as he gestured wildly to his men. "Kill them! Kill them all!" he screamed, his composure shattered. The air filled with the clash of steel and the shouts of battle.
Amelia sprang into motion, her blade flashing as she cut down the first attacker who came too close. She fought with a precision born of years of training, each movement efficient, each strike deadly. She kept close to Ezio's side, matching his movements as they worked to hold back Vieri's men, protecting Claudia, Maria, and Petruccio from harm.
Ezio moved like a man possessed, his sword cleaving through the air as he fought to protect his family. But despite his rage, she could see the determination in his eyes—the resolve to do whatever it took to keep his loved ones safe. And beside him, she matched that determination with her own, her blade dancing through the air, cutting down any who dared approach.
Amelia's eyes flicked to Vieri, standing back with that hateful sneer twisting his face. He was content to let his men do the dirty work, but she saw the flicker of fear behind his eyes as he watched his forces dwindle. The sight fueled her resolve, turning her strikes sharper, her movements swifter. As the last of Vieri's men fell, panting and beaten, Ezio turned to the stranger who had come to their aid, still gripping his sword tightly. His expression softened with dawning recognition as he took in the older man's features, the roughness of his voice sparking a memory from his childhood.
"You have my thanks... but do I know you from somewhere?" Ezio asked, tilting his head, his voice uncertain but hopeful.
The man's face split into a broad grin as he spread his arms wide. "Don't you recognize me? It's-a me, Mario!" he announced, his voice rich with warmth and amusement.
The realization struck Ezio like a bolt of lightning, his surprise giving way to a tentative smile as the memory of his uncle flooded back. "Uncle Mario?" he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. Mario embraced his nephew with a laugh, clapping him on the back with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.
"It's been too long, nipote! Far too long! I heard what happened in Firenze... Terrible." Mario's voice was filled with affection, but his eyes held a deep sadness as he glanced over Ezio's shoulder at the weary, battered group. His expression softened further when he saw Giovanni approaching. "Giovanni! It's good to see you, fratello."
Giovanni stepped forward with a weary but genuine smile, embracing his brother tightly. "And you, Mario. I feared the worst when we had to leave Firenze behind. I'm glad to see you've kept your sword arm strong." His voice wavered with relief, and Amelia could see the tension easing from his shoulders for the first time since they had fled their home.
Mario chuckled, but his expression grew serious as he surveyed their battered group, noting the strain on their faces, the fresh bruises and cuts from the skirmish. "Come. Let's get you all away from here before more of Vieri's dogs catch up. Monteriggioni's walls will keep us safe, but we have to move quickly." He gestured toward the road ahead, his voice firm.
Amelia fell in beside Ezio, casting a last glance back at Vieri's fallen men. Her eyes lingered on the spot where Vieri had stood, the memory of his mocking voice and leering gaze still burning in her mind. Disgust coiled in her gut, mixing with a simmering anger that she couldn't quite shake. Vieri's arrogance, his entitlement, the way he had spoken of her as if she were a prize to be claimed—it made her blood boil. But she forced herself to focus on the road ahead, on the promise of safety within Monteriggioni's walls. With Mario leading the way and Giovanni supporting Maria and Claudia, they moved quickly through the canyon, the first stars beginning to dot the sky above them. Petruccio struggled to keep up, his small legs straining to match their pace. Amelia reached down, taking his hand with a reassuring smile.
"You're doing great, Petruccio. Just a little further, and we'll be safe. Think of the stories you'll have to tell when we reach the villa." Her voice was gentle, soothing, and she saw a faint smile touch his lips as he nodded, his grip tightening on her hand.
They pressed on through the night, the shadows deepening around them, but the promise of shelter at the villa guided their footsteps. For a moment, as they moved together through the darkness, Amelia allowed herself to believe that they might find some measure of peace—at least for tonight. And as they followed Mario's lead, the distant lights of Monteriggioni beckoning like a beacon in the dark, she clung to that hope like a lifeline.