AC2 Novelization Part 15

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Part Fifteen: Death of a Merchant

As autumn passed, the twenty-two-year-old began to get impatient. He had been in Venice for a year, and though he had learned much he felt he had not done much, and much like before when he was hunting down the Pazzi conspirators, impatient energy began to fill him. He fought the anxiety bravely, remembering all too clearly the price for his impatience, but as December rolled around the old dreams of the gallows began hitting him, and not for the first time he spent his nights in the arms of women, trying to forget.

It was Rosa who recognized what was happening to him, and one night pulled him aside before he went out prowling for a new bed.

"What's happening?" she asked, her usual flirtatious nature missing.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," she said in a low voice. "I know that look. You're trying to forget something."

"What would you know?" Ezio hissed.

"I know that my mother was a whore, and the nobleman who made me and Ugo refused to take us in when she died," she said in a flat, toneless voice. "I know that every spring I have to throw a party, get as drunk as possible, and forget for a few nights that she died. Sometimes it's with a man, sometimes it's crying on Antonio's shoulder, and sometimes it's running as fast as I can through the streets."

Ezio blinked, not at all expecting such a confession from the prickly and tough-talking thief.

"We thieves," she said. "We have a pact. We tell each other our darkest, deepest secrets and sins. Everybody knows everything here. We are bound not to tell each other's secrets to anyone, guards or otherwise. What are you trying to forget?"

"... The death of my family," Ezio said slowly, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

Rosa's eyes widened slightly, realizing just how similar they were, and grabbed his wrist, dragging him back to the enclosed courtyard and the thieves as they had their dinner. "Ugo!" she called out, barging through several men before forcing Ezio to sit down around a cookpot next to her suspicious brother. "Tell him about the time you were seven."

Ugo turned bright red. "Rosa!" he said in a strangled voice.

"He needs to hear it."

"He does not! No one does!"

"And yet," Franco, another thief said, "we all do."

Everyone around the cookpot started needling Ugo, and soon he told the embarrassing story of when he was seven, their mother still alive, and he, wanting to chase away a nightmare, walked in on her during her work, causing the client to startle so badly he pissed all over his own clothes, ruining the finery. Franco talked about his three sisters, their obsession with finding men and how he had been roped into helping obtain them, extolling their beauty even though he thought they were the ugliest girls in the entirety of Venice. Rosa talked about Ugo and diaper training, and Bianca shared the horror of birthing her first child, locked in a cell and surrounded by men who had no idea why she was screaming and bleeding, her laughing through the entire recitation.

"Tell us a story," Rosa said, "about your family."

And slowly, hesitantly, Ezio talked about Federico and his first month as a banker, how bored he was and how he had hidden a sack of money just to make things interesting. He talked about Petruccio and chess, and how everybody bent over backwards for the boy. He talked about Claudia, staunchly protected by Federico and him, and how temperamental she was with their influence; he told of his beating of Duccio, and how Giovanni had reacted when learning he had deliberately started a fight with Vieri de' Pazzi. He talked about his mother's bakery and the smell of bread - proper bread - and voices and haggling in the morning. He realized, with no small amount of surprise, that he had not talked about his family since the gallows. Neither he nor Claudia could bring themselves to talk about Federico and Petruccio, and Giovanni was silently taboo because of their mother. It felt... it felt...

It felt... good.

Rosa seemed to smile, dawn had arrived, and she stood up, swaying slightly from the wine and touched his shoulder.

"You've remembered," she said, "Now I'll help you forget."

They spent two days fucking each other senseless.

Afterward, Antonio called him to his office, looking out over the model of his city, and leveled a glare at him.

"Rosa and Ugo, those two are very dear to me," he said slowly, his eyes narrow and calculating. "They've been with me the longest, and I'll be damned if I see anything come to them."

"I know," Ezio said, nodding his head. "She was... helping me through a difficult time."

The older thief blinked, realization spreading across his pale face. "I'd forgotten," he said. "Giovanni died in winter... Oh, Ezio."

"It's alright, Ser Magianis," the Florentine said, raising a hand to forestall the comfort. "I'm... better now. Claudia's birthday is tomorrow and I need to write her a letter."

The aristocratic thief nodded, understanding written all over his face. He fingered his mustache, saying, "Write your letter, then. But Ezio," he added, his face serious, "for that kind of grief you need more than one outlet. Something other than vaginas, at any rate."

Those were some of his mother's last words, and they shook Ezio down to his core, so much that his hand was shaking when he wrote Claudia, explaining what was surging through him and wondering if his sister talked about their brothers to anyone, and if it would help her as it helped him. He told a few stories, taking several pages and hoping it would help her, and asked her to share them with Maria, maybe even Mario, their uncle knew very little about their respective childhoods, and after all his generosity it was the least either of them could do.

The next day he was banging on Leonardo's door, surprising the blond with his visit, and asking if he could be taught a little more about painting.

Leonardo, much like Rosa, was perceptive, and gave Ezio everything he needed, for once the Florentine assassin did most of the talking, trying to stretch out his canvas and show what his brothers and father looked like to Leonardo, frustrated when something came out wrong or a line didn't look right. Leonardo helped as he could, instructing on facial proportions and then talking a little bit about chiaroscuro - the study of lights and shadows that generally went right over Ezio's head until the thirty-year-old started demonstrating it. Between the two of them, Ezio was able to get a passable sketch of his family, and Leonardo added Ezio, Claudia, and Maria to it - infinitely more detailed than the dead.

"Ezio, what kind of background would you like?"

"What?"

"For this painting. What kind of background would you like? The hills of Monteriggioni? Your old villa? A backdrop of Firenze?"

Blinking, Ezio asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I want to do this portrait," Leonardo explained. "For you to look at, at this time of year. I want to help you."

Ezio was struck dumb for several minutes, staring at the painter, before giving a slightly broken laugh and touching the man's shoulder. "Grazie, my friend. You've no idea what that means to me. But... I think this is one painting I need to do myself."

"... As you wish," Leonardo said, tugging at his ever growing beard. "But please, let me know when I may be of service."

"I will."

It wasn't long after that, in spring, that Antonio deemed his thieves set to do more than just pickpocketing. They set out into the wealthy San Polo district and tested their skills. Ezio was only passable at best, if he stuck around a square or street too long people began to notice their missing purses, and some would harass him if they caught sight of him. Venetian guards, too, proved to be much better trained the Florentine or Tuscan guards; almost all of them wore full armor, spears or pikes or heavy axes or broadswords. The thieves, both Antonio and Ezio were pleased to note, were fast on their feet after over a year of training, and the heavily armored guards were hard pressed to actually hit anyone.

Ezio picked up very quickly, however, that while Antonio's thieves knew how to run, they seemed to know nothing about escape.

"Why do they always run in straight lines?" he asked.

Antonio sighed at that. "Try though I might, fear is a powerful motivator. A thief wants to live very badly, and will dash to safety literally without thought."

"But that's why it's so difficult for you and your men to sneak out," Ezio said, "Everyone knows that you are based somewhere on the docks, and so if a thief is running they need only position their archers. It is likely why the assault on Emilio's Palazzo was such a failure."

"Hm," Antonio said, "Another delay to our next attack. They have to know how to escape without running in a straight line. Rosa and Ugo, they know it, but even they can't instill it in my men. Even you couldn't. Who else would?"

Ezio thought a moment, before a wide grin split his face. "A fox might know a thing or two," he said smoothly.

And so he sent another letter to Claudia, to forward to Mario to forward to La Volpe, for assistance in training idiots about straight lines.

To his surprise, not only did Volpe arrive with the summer thunderstorms, but so did Mario, crushing his nephew in a powerful hug that lifted him in the air. "Ah, nipote, it's good to see you are thriving!"

"I don't know how 'thriving' I am after that," Ezio coughed, trying to get his breath back. "Uncle, I'm twenty-three!"

"And still my nephew!" Mario said, slapping the Florentine's back with a gruff laugh. "Claudia sends her best, and news that Vincenzo is doing well in his new art shop. Santino wants to know how your armor is holding up, that sour miser Adler says to tell you that Italian bankers are all idiots except for you and Claudia, and Orazio wants to know when you'll next give him gold. The only one in Monteriggioni not asking after you is the tailor, though I suspect that's only because you haven't really talked to him yet. We all miss you, nipote."

"... Even Mother?"

"Even Maria," Mario said with a sad smile. "Claudia reads all your letters to her, and you should have seen her face when she read all those childhood memories you talked about. It was the most expression I've ever seen in her since..."

Ezio smiled, slightly, glad for the news.

The first thing to be done was arrange a race in the thick summer air. Ezio, pacing himself, lost miserably to Volpe - to be expected since he didn't have to worry about armor bringing him down with the heat - but he put Mario to shame and tied with Antonio and Rosa, the female thief huffing at the very idea.

"I let you win, figlio di puttana."

"Of course..."

Then Volpe drew a dagger and started chasing the awed thieves, using throwing knives to make them duck left and right in shrieking terror, before getting them all bunched together in a corner. "And that," he said with a sly voice, "Is why you never run in straight lines."

The summer's work was very hard on the thieves, with powerhouses like the Auditore and Volpe and Antonio overseeing them, and then Rosa and Ugo - the only ones who could escape the four - shouted swears and threats at them when they couldn't learn what they needed. But, as the putrid air of Venice finally started to dry out, the thunderstorms fading in frequency, they were at last good enough that Antonio began pulling Ezio and the others into his office, outlining his next assault on the Palazzo.

"I wish I could stay longer," Mario said, looking over the plan, "but I'm off to Forli. Lorenzo de' Medici wants me to keep an eye on Girolamo Riario, and I'm one to agree with him."

"Give my regards to his wife, Caterina," Ezio said with a smile.

"Oh, my," Rosa said in exaggerated tones. "Don't tell me you're cheating."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ezio replied in an equally flirtatious tone. "But can the same be said for you?"

"Make it stop..." Ugo groaned.

"Things are doubly hard now," Mario said. "Mehmet of the Ottomans just died, and Bayezid II is the new Sultan. Lorenzo is sending a few men over to make friends, the last thing we need is a war with the east."

"Don't let people here in Venezia hear you say that," Antonio said with a smirk, "We hate the Ottomans and want our territory back."

Volpe and Mario both laughed and bid their farewells.

For the next month Ezio, Rosa, and Ugo stalked the Palazzo, taking note of guard patrols and strength, noting shift changes and tracing lines to scale for the next assault on the Palazzo. By November, they were ready to strike, and slowly, very slowly, Ezio began to feel anticipation. After almost two years in Venice he would have his chance with Emilio Barbarigo, and one more name would be off his list. It wasn't the impatient pulse of when he'd tried to kill Jacopo de' Pazzi, it was the solid sense of anticipation: death was about to reign down on a Templar, and vengeance would be had. Also, Venice commerce would settle down, tradesmen would not have to worry about renting space or paying dues out of their profits. Barbarigo's death would also be a boon to Venice.

They crept out at sunset, traversing the rooftops and making their way east, to the palazzo. Ugo gave the signal, and the thieves distracted the guards, Ezio guarding from above, but no sooner had the thieves began to move in that the guards stopped chasing the first pair, turning around and charging the startled forces, and archers appeared from places they weren't supposed to be, and Ezio was suddenly forced to run all over the place to take out the archers.

It was, in short, a disaster. The guards knew exactly where the thieves were stationed, every one of them, and it was a sudden mad dash through the streets of Venice in an eerie mimicry of their first assault, dashing left and right, going up and down the facades of buildings, jerking from one direction to the next, backtracking and sidestepping to keep the guards confused as they began trickling back to the docks.

Worse, less than half of them arrived.

"Ugo," Rosa said, circling around the well anxiously. "Where is Ugo? That bastard is too good to be caught..."

"He's probably fine," Antonio said, but his pale face was even paler, and his aristocratic demeanor was almost completely missing, his thoughts racing. Ezio kept a lookout at the docks, two or three gondolas bearing thieves came back, but none afterwards and none of them held Rosa's precious little brother.

Then,

"Ugo!"

"Rosa, I'm fine, I'm-"

"No you're not, proco puttani, look at your arm! Get Bianca!"

Ezio came in to see Ugo being shoved to a table by Rosa, blood soaking his arm and swearing as his sister roughly handled him. Ezio darted in as Antonio ripped the shirt, inspecting the damage. Stitches were needed, and Rosa was beside herself, swearing and cursing and shouting before Antonio roughly took her by the arm and led her out, ordering Ezio to help with the surgery.

The next morning, late, Ezio emerged from his room, still tired, but wanting answers as much as Antonio, who, like Rosa, had camped out in front of Ugo's room. Ezio was back to waiting. He'd been waiting the past two years to kill Emilio Barbarigo, and now it would be delayed again. Answers would be good.

Antonio stirred as Ezio stalked down the hall, though Rosa remained asleep, likely having stayed up the latest keeping an eye on her brother.

The Venetian nobleman nodded to the Florentine nobleman and both silently slipped into Ugo's room.

Ugo was bare-chested, bruises littering his chest an arms and looking like dark holes in the candlelight. Antonio didn't care for this and whipped open the curtains, letting in more light and making the bruising seem less ominous. Ugo grunted at the intrusion of light almost instantly, attempting to raise an arm to block it out before hissing in pain and grunting.

The arm, which Ezio himself had stitched the previous night, bore a long, deep gash, from shoulder down to elbow, to say nothing of the other nicks and scratches, including a deep cut on his forearm. It was not the damage that Rosa had suffered with the arrow in the leg, but it was extensive and would take time to heal.

"Cazzo," Ugo grunted, attempting to sit up and realizing all the bruising he'd suffered.

Antonio ran a hand over Ugo's head in a fatherly gesture and Ezio stayed back, allowing them the moment and wishing his own father were still alive.

"Ugo," Antonio said softly. "What happened last night? We were all worried."

The young thief grimaced, still trying to find a position that was comfortable, but finally gave up. "I had a thought."

"Seeing your current state," Antonio replied, "I rather doubt it."

Ugo scowled severely, but continued. "It was strange that the guards turned after starting to chase us. They shouldn't have known we were coming, but they did. All those archers at just the spots to see all our men. Knowing that it was a distraction. Something just didn't smell right about it."

Ezio held back a sarcastic comment about the smell of the waters of Venice and let the thief keep talking.

"After I had lost my pursuers, I backtracked," Ugo attempted to shrug before hissing at the bruises it pulled at. "I followed the figlios di puttani back."

Antonio sucked in a breath. "You weren't spotted?"

Ugo offered a feral grin. "No. Archers watching roofs, patrols on the streets, no one looking at balconies."

Ezio chuckled. It seemed his lessons had done some good after all.

"Our men are all alive, Antonio. Arrested and imprisoned, but alive."

The news settled around them for a moment, full and happy and seeming to brighten the very room.

"Alive," Antonio breathed, sitting heavily. "Alive. We may yet win this war. We need to break them out... We can regroup..."

"Yes!" Ugo nodded enthused. "We've not been beaten yet."

"Save for the fact that news of our attack was leaked," Ezio reminded them stepping forward. "That must be dealt with first else any attempt we make to free our friends will merely result in more friends in jail."

Antonio's happy face disappeared in an instant. "Very true. We must think on this." But the thief guild head simply turned and smiled to Ugo. "First thing's first, you heal."

"Merda," Ugo grunted.

Antonio and Ezio walked out, making Rosa stir.

"Bastardi," she grunted at them. "Why didn't you tell me Ugo was awake!" She quickly darted into Ugo's room and thus the battle of cursing began.

Ezio and Antonio both shook their heads and headed out to the courtyard.

They walked together in silence, out to the streets of Venice, packed, as always, and strode together for a time.

At last, Antonio sighed. "It seems Emilio has turned some of my own men against me."

"Bribery and blackmail, is it?"

"Most likely." Antonio rubbed his face tiredly. "We cannot strike until the traitors are dealt with. I doubt they were arrested and are probably somewhere in this district; keeping tabs on us and reporting back to Emilio."

Ezio nodded. "I think I need to stay away from the docks for now," he said quietly. "Most of your thieves assume me to be a thief from Florence who washed ashore here and I'd rather it kept that way."

"Si," Antonio agreed reluctantly. "For the work you are here for, you'd best not be known for who you are. Only Ugo, Rosa and I know your true purpose."

"Have Rosa at the Frari once in a while. I'll send word to you through her."

"Consider it done," Antonio replied with a hint of his usual suave smile. "That girl could use the chance to learn how to blend in with more respectable folk."

Ezio chuckled. "Don't worry about your traitors," he said, stepping into the shadows of an alley. "I'll take care of them."

Ezio spent the next month, December, establishing himself as a Florentine tourist visiting fair Venice, in the southern part of the district, staying far away from the docks. With Leonardo now in Milan to work for Ludovico Sforza, and the thieves knowing he had visited Leonardo's shop, he thought it best to find a tavern in a part of the district that the thieves guild usually didn't frequent.

It wasn't a pleasant month, but then December never seemed to be for Ezio. He spent a fair bit of time with his easel out in the streets, trying to paint that portrait of his family, but never seeming to get any part of it right. To his horror, Ezio found he was forgetting what his father and brothers looked like, how his father's voice rolled, Federico's laughs, Petruccio's quiet coughs. They were slipping from his memory.

Time, it seemed, moved on no matter what.

He also spent time up atop the Frari, thinking hard and planning how to go about to smoke out the traitors, and how to break out the imprisoned thieves.

Once he had a plan in mind, Ezio looked at it from every angle he could think of on how it could go wrong.

The first priority was to get the thieves out of jail. Prison was often a good place to die, as inmates were interrogated with torture and could die of infections or starvation. Ezio couldn't afford to let them linger incarcerated. But if the guild here wasn't safe, the question was where to put them.

So Ezio sent a letter to Claudia, explaining the dilemma and his plans, instructing her that Orazio would be using more of their gold because he wanted a small thieves guild building for his escapees to hide. He also thought a place for courtesans would be a good idea, and asked her thoughts on it, as Paola had helped them so much in their flight from Florence, a place for her girls to hide might be a good repayment.

Ugo met him in front of the Frari one evening, his arm still bound in a sling, once Ezio received word from Claudia that it was already underway and that she had rules for any thieves coming to Monteriggioni. Rules Ezio agreed with and added to.

"Are you up to this?" Ezio asked quietly as they sat in the square in front of the Frari.

"Bastardo," Ugo grunted and scowled. "I can do my part. I want our men back too, you know."

Ezio sighed, shaking his head. "They can't stay at the docks. I'll be sending your men away to a safe place."

"I know, I know," the young man growled. "I just don't have to like it."

To this, the young Assassin chuckled. "Come on, then. Show me where your friends were taken."

With the setting sun casting long shadows and glittering on the water, the archers above had difficulty seeing as the two approached a small guardhouse.

Ezio frowned. "I doubt they're all still here," he whispered. "We lost two dozen men, that guardhouse can't hold that many men for an extended period of time."

"I know," Ugo hissed back. "But our men may know where to look next."

Ezio nodded. "Best go to your gondola. I'll meet you at the Rialto Bridge."

"I'd rather help you free our men."

Ezio poked Ugo in his still healing stitches.

"Aargh! Bastardo, you've made your point!" And the young thief melted back into the shadows.

Ezio stayed in the alley, assessing the building. Such a small guardhouse likely only had a half dozen people, most out on patrol. So Ezio ripped his sleeve, used his dagger to cut his arm and let it bleed into his shirt. Now he had an excuse to get in.

He entered the guardhouse, calling out for help. "Some figlio di puttana just took my purse!" he growled and one of the guards stepped forward. Ezio noted that none of them were wearing armor. Once the approaching guard was close enough, Ezio grabbed his head and brought it down to his knee. The other two stood shocked for a second, not having expected someone coming for help to attack and Ezio used that to his advantage as he leapt forward, shoving a man hard to the wall and then punching him precisely in the throat, leaving him gasping for breath. The third was just starting to pull out his sword and Ezio kicked him between the legs, sending the poor man's scream of pain up an octave before bringing both of his fists to the man's ears to further disorient him.

The keys were conveniently on a peg on the wall and Ezio grabbed them and released the iron bars that kept the inmates captive. Most of the inmates were thieves he recognized, though one seemed to be more of a beggar. Out of caution, Ezio looked at them with his special sight and noted that none bore the red flicker of an enemy.

"Follow me," he said quietly.

"No need to even say so," one of them grunted, stumbling out of the cell with various bruises and the starting signs of malnutrition.

They were down the street and melding into an alley, Ezio explaining where they were going so that the four knew where Ugo was waiting with the gondola when an outraged shout came from the guardhouse.

Ezio turned and saw a large hulking brute of a guard in full armor racing as fast as his heavy armaments would allow.

"Go! I'll meet you later!"

The thieves dispersed, using the training both Ezio and Volpe had given them and dashed away. Ezio pulled out his sword and deflected the brute's heavy broadsword, drawing him further into the alley and away from the evening onlookers. Ezio stayed on defense, knowing that finding the chink in that heavy armor would take a larger space than he had available in the narrow alley, and anonymity was his friend. Still, the confines also limited the brute, who couldn't swing as widely. Ezio's sword was soon knocked away and, unarmed, Ezio kept backstepping the heavy swings. On swing went wide and stuck in some crates and Ezio took his chance to dart forward, kicking the arms holding the sword, and punching them at the elbow to make the brute let go with a grunt and Ezio took the broadsword as his own.

He grunted with the effort to swing it, but he'd been training for years under Ulderico, who insisted Ezio be familiar with every type of weapon he could think of. One swing knocked the brute off his feet and the other came down right into the stomach, the momentum cutting through the armor like cheese.

Ezio dropped the broadsword and reclaimed his own sword before taking off to the rooftops and balconies.

At the Rialto Bridge, Ezio waited behind a travel station, watching the late night travelers rushing about to get home or heading out to some sort of party. There didn't seem to be an influx of guards, so Ezio assumed things were going well.

"Pssst!" came a hiss from the river below.

Ezio easily stood and leapt over the railing, landing gracefully on the gondola.

One of the escaped thieves then reached up, grabbed his half-cape, and flung him off balance and into the cold smelly canal.

Ezio came up sputtering. "Merda! What was that for?" he spat, climbing back up to the gondola.

"Leaving Venezia!" Lazzoro grunted. "We can't even check in with Antonio? And why are we leaving?"

Ezio sighed. "Some of Antonio's men are spies, but we don't know who is who yet," he explained. "Rather than letting Emilio Barbarigo know that Antonio is gaining strength, it would be best if you weren't in the city for a while."

"So you're sending us to Firenze?"

"No," Ezio growled, "I'm sending you to Monteriggioni. I have a villa there and you will be safe. Once we've routed out the traitors, you can come back here. Then we can take Emilio down."

One of the thieves, one Ezio couldn't remember the name of but couldn't be older than fifteen, said quietly, "Venezia's the only home I know..."

Ezio put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It always will be. Think of it as a vacation. At least until we know it's safe for you here." Ezio decided not to mention the training Ulderico would likely be putting them through.

"Fine," Lazzoro spat. "But don't expect us to care for your saltless bread!"

To this, at least, Ezio could chuckle. "Just don't steal from any of our townsfolk. Or rather, if you do, give it back. I'm paying for you to be there, so keep your skills sharp, just don't take from the taxpayers that are paying for you to be there."

"Then we won't have any fun there..."

Ezio laughed. "Oh, if you want a challenge, my sister Claudia has been saying how a band of thieves has been terrorizing the countryside. Why not steal from the thieves?"

The four sort of grunted together, which Ezio took as assent and then dragged them up to the streets and took them to the tavern he was staying at where he had a doctor waiting to check on them. He dressed them properly so they didn't look so unsavory and send them on their way. They'd shared what the guards had said on likely places that their fellow thieves had likely been taken to, and Ezio started to check out the locations.

The next breakout went along the same lines as the first, only Ezio took a horse for escape this time as it was just standing outside, waiting. These thieves also didn't like the idea of leaving, but went along with it.

Antonio met Ezio one evening for dinner and smiled as he heard of more men that were safe.

"I can't thank you enough, Ezio," he said, sipping his wine. "Knowing my men are safe and recuperating takes a great burden off of me."

Ezio waved the praise away. "How is Rosa coming along with finding the traitors?"

To this, the noble thief sighed, his sharp tenor dropping. "She's been with all of them almost from the beginning. She trusts them and can't seem to tell who's lying or acting suspiciously."

"I think it's time I meet all your thieves again," Ezio said quietly. "Have Ugo take me through everyone. As an unbiased eye, I might see what Rosa can't."

Antonio nodded. "Best to wait a bit, though. Avoid suspicion that way. I swear, I don't know how we haven't found posters of you around the district yet."

Ezio merely smiled.

Thus, a few weeks later, Ezio met with Ugo as the heat of summer pressed down on them. Ezio walked without his armor this time, not seeking a fight, but just information, and didn't want the added heat as he was going to be ushered from one den of thieves to another for the next few days.

The purpose of Ezio's visits was given as "checking in" on how they were doing with their training and Ezio took delight in racing them without his armor and beating them even more soundly. However, as he met group after group of thieves, he studied them all with his Eagle Vision. As he did, he noticed no reds of an enemy, but he did start to notice a whitish-blue flicker around them. Looking at Ugo showed similar coloring, so Ezio could only assume that it was because they were allies.

It was reassuring.

Still, he spoke to each thief for a bit, "catching up" and trying to sense if anything was off. It wasn't until the first evening that Ezio finally found a thief he didn't trust. Ugo, who had been stuck with Ezio for almost a half year now on little excursions to free thieves and scout out guardhouses and such, noticed when Ezio was cool and careful with certain people.

"How do you know?" Ugo asked, shocked when Ezio mentioned Pompeo was likely a traitor.

Ezio only smiled. "I see things a little differently than most," he said with great irony.

Once he had a list, he was again sitting with Antonio for dinner, in a different tavern. Both agreed that Ezio couldn't just start killing the traitors. The other thieves had been working with these people for years and at least deserved some proof before taking them out.

Which meant that Ezio and Antonio had to set up the traitors and expose them. In the middle of all this, Ezio kept breaking out thieves with Ugo and occasionally Rosa when she wasn't trying to swallow how many people she trusted were now traitors.

The year passed and Ezio was kept busy taking care of all of this. It wasn't until late the following summer that all the traitors were finally exposed and killed, giving Ezio leave to finally call back the thieves from Monteriggioni and focus more thoroughly on finishing freeing the thieves still captive.

In September, word finally came of some interesting events in Rome that had Ezio listening to the heralds and writing Mario for more information. It seemed that Sixtus had finally died, but electing a new Pope had proven difficult. Supporters of Sixtus faced rebellion and looting, and there was some turmoil even in Venice. Forli, apparently, was hit particularly hard and Girolamo's residence was sacked and almost destroyed. It seemed husband and wife of Forli agreed on this being a bad thing and while Girolamo took up a strategic position outside the city, Caterina Sforza took her men, and rode (while seven months pregnant, the rumor went) and held Castel Sant'Angelo. This, of course, prevented the College of Cardinals to meet and vote for a new Pope, which led to more chaos in Venice and Italy in general.

Girolamo was bought off by the College of Cardinals, being given money in compensation for the damages and a military title of Captain-General of the Church. Caterina was not so easily bought off, and stayed in the Castel Sant'Angelo until her own husband took position against her and she was to surrender in late October.

Once the drama of Rome was settled, Ezio had freed all the thieves and focus was placed once more on recuperating and planning on how to get to Emilio once again.

Winter proved difficult for healing, as the cold weather brought colds and illnesses that made infections. Ezio knew how to stitch wounds and the basics for healing plants, but this was beyond his knowledge and he felt useless. The timing of it, of course, coincided with remembering his family swinging from the gallows, and Rosa helped him with his worries. He spent the cold days with the portrait of his family, trying again to get it right.

Spring came and Ezio worked once more putting the thieves through their paces. Antonio had found some new recruits and, after two years of teaching, Ezio was doing much better at showing them the ins and outs of climbing and running. He could even show them a thing or two on thieving, as Ezio had kept these skills up while he was living at the tavern in the southern part of the district, rather than asking Claudia for more money. Antonio and Rosa and Ugo still surpassed him, but Ezio liked to think he wasn't as inept at picking pockets as he had been.

The warmer weather also brought the new armor Ezio had ordered from a local blacksmith that Antonio trusted. It was solid metal, much like that of the brutes he'd seen about the district, helping Ezio to blend in and also to have better protection against said brutes.

It was interesting, getting used to the heavier armor with the heavier heat as it kept rolling in, especially as it gleamed so well and reflected more heat to him. But Ezio once more found a good pace for himself and even in the heavier armor, he was still faster than Rosa and Ugo.

"That's just not fair," Ugo grumbled.

Still, Ugo grabbed Ezio aside in early August. At the docks there was at least a cool breeze from the water and the sun was slowly sinking as afternoon approached evening. "You know of our plan?"

"Yes," Ezio replied. "Antonio and I have been going over it all day."

"Good. Then it's time to do some clothes shopping, yes?"

Ezio laughed. "You Venetians and your clothes..."

But they went about gathering some of the thieves, mixing the experienced with some of the new recruits to give them proper practice, and headed out into the city. There had been a shipment earlier that day and the new uniforms were now at a few guardhouses, waiting for pickup by the archers that would rotate in that morning.

Getting the clothes was easy. Ugo would have thieves and distract the guards, flying away at great speed and, thankfully, not in a straight line. Ezio would then take his pair of thieves and loot the place and then send one of the thieves back to Antonio with the armor and uniforms.

It was a long night, trading out the tiring thieves with fresh ones, but it was good work done.

September was approaching, after all, and it was time to act.

The morning of the eleventh started off with a light rain, but by afternoon the sun was out and shining. Ezio was pleased that the temperatures and humidity were slowly dropping, though they still had a random sweltering day. He'd spent most of the wet morning double and triple checking everything around the Seta, seeing guards in the same positions they'd been observing. Nothing seemed amiss and none of the guards seemed to realize that they were going to be attacked.

He made his way back to Antonio's headquarters, knocking politely before opening the door.

Antonio looked up with a modest smile, he, Rosa, and Ugo looking over the blocks the thief master used as a map. "Please, enter! Your good work has restored us to our former strength, Ezio," he thanked the young Assassin. "We are ready to strike."

Ezio nodded. "We've waited for this for some time. Just tell me what needs to be done, and I'll see that it is."

"You'll approach from above, under the cover of sunset," Antonio gestured to his block map of the district. "Emilio has posted archers around the palazzo. Kill them, but do so quietly. As they fall, my men shall replace them. Ugo will take care of the ground patrols."

Ezio looked to Ugo, who was staring intently at the position he'd be taking. In the past four years, he'd learned that Ugo was more than competent and had keen eyes for escape routes, even better than his sister, but Rosa overshadowed him in personality so strongly that none ever seemed to notice. "Be wary of those brutes," he cautioned. "They'll be difficult to take down."

"Bastardo, do you think I've not been paying attention to you beating me to the ground with a lance? I can handle it," the young thief grumbled.

Antonio cut in before Ugo started his battle of curses. "When you've finished with the archers, we'll regroup in front of this building here, and discuss next steps."

"Not a problem. I'll take care of the archers and return to you," Ezio nodded. "The thieves I'm working with...?"

"Are already on the rooftops," Rosa drawled. "Antonio and I will be keeping the police nearby busy while you replace the Seta's guards."

Antonio gave a final nod. "Then it's settled. Good luck."

"You as well," Ezio shook hands with each of them, though Rosa snuck in a kiss, and they headed out.

Rosa and Antonio headed out to the streets, Ugo down to the gondola to go meet his own men. Ezio climbed the scaffolding as Rosa had taught him and scaled to the roofs were a dozen disguised thieves were waiting. These were the thieves that Ezio had been working with since stealing the armor and clothes the previous month. Every day he'd been drilling them with bows, since they would be his cover as he infiltrated the heavily guarded palazzo.

They all nodded and took off. The sun was starting to sink heavily behind them, blinding the archers on the roofs as they approached. Ezio had also chosen one of his brighter hoods and robes, its faded golden orange color blending with the sky around them, yet light enough to not be spotted against the pale façade of the gothic Seta.

As they approached the roofs across the small canal that surrounded the Palazzo della Seta, they flowed over each archer they came across like a wave. One archer against a dozen thieves and one Assassin didn't really stand a chance and was never even able to call out a warning. Once an archer was down, one of Ezio's men replaced him and they disappeared down to the balconies and cross beams to stay hidden as they approached the next archer. The sun was gone from the horizon when they finally took the last archer down, and Ezio wiped his forehead, grateful for a cool breeze that was swiftly bringing down the temperature.

"Take care," he said, before climbing back down to the streets.

"Well done, Ezio," Antonio smiled, not a hair out of place despite running the police ragged. "Everything is going according to plan. The way to the palazzo is clear now."

"But not the building itself," Ezio commented, noticing that Ugo had not joined them yet. "Emilio's guards still patrol its border."

"Not any more," a voice panted behind them. Ugo jogged up, a trace of blood trailing down his face and a new gash to cross the stitches from the last time he'd gotten hurt along his forearm. "My men patrol the grounds now. The only guards left are those inside the Seta herself."

"Bene," Ezio nodded. "And you did very well."

Ugo merely grunted in response.

Rosa smiled, hugging her brother's uninjured arm, already dressed in her stolen archer uniform. "And when it comes time to storm the place," she said to Ezio, "remember what I've taught you."

"Take care, Ezio," Antonio grasped his arm firmly. "We await word of your success."

The young Assassin nodded, and slipped into the shadows.

It was a bizarre redo of his first day in Venice, in a way. That first day guards had lined the roofs, the entries, the grounds, everywhere, and now it was all thieves. Rosa had rushed into her climb, knowing time was against her, and now Ezio took his time, tracing his route to the roof carefully and methodically, so as not to draw attention from any stray guards Ugo's men didn't take care of.

It felt good to remove the stain of such a horrid disaster. One that had been repeated when the thieves had been arrested.

Once on the roof Ezio creeped his way forward on his stomach, staying low so that he could get an idea of the layout and possible escape routes. If he'd learned anything over these past four years, it had been patience. A well thought-out plan like this evening's was key in such guarded places. The archers on the roof still Emilio's men were yawning. They wouldn't switch shifts for another hour, to Ezio's benefit.

The courtyard below was rectangular and pure gothic, from what Ezio could tell from all the information Leonardo could spout about anything at any given time. Ornate details seemed to cover every surface, though there seemed to be an eastern influence in the arches, with the lions that symbolized Venice roaring out of much of the detail work. Down below, along the back of the courtyard, were steps to a gated door that lead to the Grand Canal behind the Seta, and Ezio saw a boat standing by with an oarsman.

Someone was visiting it seemed.

So Ezio stayed still and opened his ears as much as he could. Emilio, if he was any kind of host, would escort his guest to the gondola, which would be his best chance.

"Your little house of cards is crumbling, Emilio," a voice sighed, a smarmy tenor that seemed to drip oil.

"A minor setback," Emilio replied, a voice Ezio remembered criticizing Jacopo de' Pazzi before the Spaniard killed him. It was still the gruff baritone with a cruel lilt. "It will be dealt with. This poor fool Antonio and his thieves..."

"Never mind them!" the smarmy tenor hissed. Ezio narrowed his eyes and could just see them descending the stairs that lined the courtyard. "It's the Assassin you should be worried about!"

Emilio actually paused, his face paling in the moonlight. "Why? Is...is he in Venezia?"

"He's been here for weeks!" the smarmy tenor almost shouted. He looked very official. A government worker of some kind? "How could you be so blind?!"

Ezio held in a chuckle. Weeks was it? Ezio may have been recognized when he'd stolen the uniforms, but he had been here for years. Clearly the Templars didn't know where to look.

"Unlike you, I've been busy!" Emilio retorted. "Someone had to unite the commerce here. Then we'll have money flowing in."

"And yet, you still have hold outs," the official growled. "You only have, on a good day, two thirds of the merchants in the district. Those that don't wish to follow you simply do their business away from the marketplace."

"Enough with the barbs!" Emilio waved their argument away and resumed walking down to the courtyard. "What is it you want, Carlo?"

Ah, a name.

"Maestro has called a meeting," the official replied. "Three days from now at Santo Stefano."

There was only one person that a Templar would call Maestro. Ezio would have to be at the Santo Stefano when that meeting occurred. That only gave him three days. Not much time... He'd have to rush it, the exact opposite of how he'd been spending the last four years.

"Very well. I'll be there," Emilio nodded.

"Assuming you still live," Carlo rubbed his gray beard and looking skeptical. "If you want my advice, I'd find a less conspicuous place to wait. Seta is a target now."

"Seta is a fortress!" Emilio countered sharply.

"If you say so," Carlo didn't look convinced as he stepped to his gondola. "Goodbye, Emilio."

The iron gates shut and Carlo's oarsman started to work, disappearing from Ezio's sight. He waited a few more minutes, not wishing to alarm this Carlo person that Emilio Barbarigo was about to die.

The merchant of Venice, however, was pacing his courtyard, startling to look worried. "Cazzo, what if he's right? You!" he pointed to one of his guards, "Call my boat, it should be close. When it arrives, load these crates and prepare to sail. I'll be right back." Emilio started up the stairs, likely heading to pack things, still mumbling to himself. Ezio had heard enough and eased over the roof and dropped down to an iron lantern beam, watching the lantern sway slightly. He gauged the distance, adjusted his minimal footing, and leapt.

The Barbarigo merchant didn't even cry out as Ezio crouched over him. "Do not be afraid."

"I feel no fear, assassin," Emilio whispered. "Only regret. I sought unity... stability... order."

Ezio shook his head. "At too great a cost."

"Progress demands sacrifice."

"... I take no joy in this, but I see no other way. Requiescat in pace."

Emilio breathed his last and Ezio closed his eyes. Behind him, the guards who had stood in shock at his sudden appearance from on high were starting to organize. Ezio stood, pulling out his sword and ready for a fight, but arrows started to rain down, causing more chaos as Ezio dived to a more protected position and thanking the thieves for paying attention to his training them with a bow. The last of the guards soon fell or gave up, holding up their hands in surrender.

Rosa appeared on the roofline. "Sorry!" she called down. "We couldn't resist. You wouldn't have left us anything!"

With nimble feet, despite the heavier armor she wore, she climbed down and ran up to kiss him in excitement. "Come! Let's open the gate for Antonio."

Ezio chuckled and followed her, unbolting the door and letting it swing open in a grand fashion for its new owner.

Antonio smiled and stepped in with arms outspread and a large smile across his face. "Seta has fallen and Emilio is no more! All thanks to you, Ezio!" he grasped Ezio's shoulder warmly. He turned to the thieves. "Go! Tear down Emilio's banners! Return what he has stolen from the people. They've been waiting long enough."

Walking further into the courtyard, Antonio took a moment in the moonlight to bask in what would be their new home. "Tell me, Ezio. How can I repay you for your service?"

"Money's always nice," Ezio said with pure Florentine irony.

Antonio laughed, slapping his back. "Easy enough, I've a whole palazzo of finances now. What else?"

Ezio paused. He'd been exploring the city a fair bit over the past four years, but he didn't have the time to look for what he really needed. "There are two things I've been keeping an eye out for. If your thieves ever see something here in Venezia, I'd like to know."

"Consider it done! Truly, is that all?"

"Emilio was meeting with a man named Carlo," Ezio said, his mind already heading to a meeting three days away. "He looked to be a government official. Do you know him?"

Antonio nodded. "Most likely Carlo Grimaldi. He sits on the Council of Ten. Why do you ask?" Antonio raised a dark brow. "What are you up to?"

"I have a meeting to attend."

"No doubt," Antonio nodded. "But for now, it's late. Let's sleep. Tomorrow we can go through Emilio's papers and see if we can learn anything."

"Sounds like a good idea."

Antonio gave another wide smile. "And now that I have a new home, I think I can find you a proper guest room."

Author's Notes: Gueeeeeeh... The four year timeskip is dooooooooone.

Lots of character building for Rosa and Ugo, and Antonio to a point. Hopefully the relationship between Rosa and Ezio makes a vague amount of sense, that they're both looking for a "good fuck" when they're sad and flirt the rest of the way, much to Ugo's never-ending embarrassment. It was the only way we could make it work and make sense, especially with how we've made Ezio's desires for women tied to his personal tragedy. Leo also got a small moment to shine - Mirror nearly cried when she first read it. And we TRIED to make the missions make sense on how much freakin' time they took.

From here on in everything is insanely rushed for Ezio, and subsequently for us. He barely can keep up with the targets as they line themselves up, and new allies are going to be thrown at him just as fast. We tried, we really did. Hope you liked.

And as for Frankenstorm Sandy: we blogged most of it on our livejournal account, but the short of it is we lost power late Monday night when a mile's worth of line fell to the ground in massive loops down our street; and we were out for a blessed 24 hours. It's a statement of the state's management of the crisis that today, five days later we're waaaaay down to 12% without power. Last year that didn't happen until week 2 of the crisis. The shoreline, simply put, was devastated. But the ones we really have to pray for, is NJ and NY; they didn't have the advantage of Hurricane Irene or Nor'easter Alfred to teach them how to prep for a disaster like this. They'll be in the dark for WEEKS. Pray for WV, too, they're suffering a combination of Irene and Alfred in one shot.

And oh yeah, this game called AC3 is out. We don't want to hear any spoiler, nor will we give any spoilers, but we will say this: The Eagle Sequence. Achilles. It was impossible to be quiet for that.