AC2 Novelization Part 19

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Part Nineteen: Death of a Barbarigo

Ezio wrote quite a bit in his weekly letter to Claudia, asking her to forward part of it to Mario, heaven knew where he was. He talked about his encounter with Cristina and his idiocy involved, as well as some of the things Sister Teodora said (but decidedly not what she did) to help him through the loss. He shared some of his memories of their courtship, and emphasized to Claudia that if Ulderico did anything remotely as bad as he had done to Cristina to let him know so he could put the cazzo in his place.

But more importantly, (or at least, he told himself it was more important), he asked Claudia to get Uncle Mario's thoughts on Marco's last words, the unshakable belief he had that under his hand Venice could be the powerhouse of the world and crush anything and everything under his feet. Did all Templars think that way? Was that why his father and brothers were killed, because they dared to think differently? Or was there some other purpose? Nine years after their deaths, and still Ezio was no closer to understanding the why, even as he slaughtered the who. What kind of world would it look like, under the Templar rule? Altair's speculations, hundreds of years past, why were they still so relevant?

A war about concepts... what was the assassin concept?

But the answer was obvious as soon as Ezio asked it: freedom. Where the Templars would grind everyone and everything under their boot, Ezio rather thought the assassins would allow men their freedom. Nothing was true and everything was permitted, Altair said, and that the world was an illusion, either to live in or to transcend. It was the freedom to make laws from rational thought and understanding of those around them, it was balancing the freedom of the individual with the freedom of the community, and it was allowing men to learn for themselves what this meant. The Assassin's stood for education, and peace in all things, where the Templars stood for wealth and power. Where the Templars would cut down their enemy, the Assassins would teach and lead by example, and try to make them friend.

Ezio paused in his writing, not certain where all of this was coming from, and apologized to Claudia for his ramblings before signing it.

It was after sending the letter, standing on the great wooden Rialto Bridge, that a thief darted up to him.

"Ezio! Ser Antonio wishes to speak to you."

The Florentine nodded. "Grazie for the message," he said, flanking the nimble thief and heading for the Palazzo della Seta.

"Ah, there you are!" the aristocratic thief said upon the Florentine's arrival. "Come, Ezio. You remember Agostino Barbarigo, soon to be Doge of Venezia... thanks to you."

Ezio blinked, not realizing that Agostino was the next oldest city official. He offered an appropriate bow. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance properly, Doge. I am sorry for the loss of your brother."

With a beard whiter than his brother, Agostino shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing. "He had it coming," he said off-handedly, his voice worn and weathered. "He was bought and paid for by the Borgia, a mistake I have no intention of making."

"Come, Ezio," Antonio said. "We have much to discuss. Agostino brings news, and I'm certain you of all people want to hear it." The three men entered the gothic palace, Rosa and Ugo quickly falling in and flanking their father figure, and they sat around a table after Antonio stoked a dying fire. Wine was passed around, and everyone drew of it before they got down to business.

"We've located Silvio Barbarigo for you," Antonio said to Agostino. "He's fled to L'Arsenale."

The elderly man scoffed. "Ha! Fled? You mean occupied... and joined by two hundred mercenaries, no less."

Ezio frowned. "You're Doge now. Can't you command them to stand down?"

Agostino shook his head. "The committee of forty-one has yet to confirm my ascension. And this little stunt of Silvio's has only made things worse. He has an entire army at his command! He's threatened to rain terror down if they do not do as he wishes, and the committee is 'convening a subcommittee to discuss the possible repercussions.' They're stalling, is what they are doing. Worse, they have no choice, because with L'Arsenale under his command he really does have control of the army - and more importantly: the fleet."

"Then help me to raise my own," Ezio suggested. "Meet fist with fist."

Antonio smirked, sipping his wine. "I figured you'd say as much. Bartolomeo d'Alviano is the man you seek. He and his men have little love for Silvio. He resides within the military district... southwest of L'Arsenale. You'd have met him sooner, but he's out in the country almost as much as your uncle, beating up bandits and unaligned thieves. He's also been keeping a tight reign - as much as can be established - on the ships coming in and out of Venezia when Emilio was trying to overtake the merchants. He's a good man and a good ally. If you need fighters, he's the man to go to."

"Va bene, I'll go and see him," Ezio said, nodding. Directions were quickly given to Bartolomeo's headquarters.

Standing, he left the meeting to the two powerhouses. Antonio no doubt had other matters to discuss about policies with the future Doge, and politics was something Ezio didn't have much of a mind for. Besides, he had what he had come for: Silvio Barbarigo.

Rosa followed him out. "You've gotten so busy," the voluptuous thief said. "And don't think I didn't hear about your visit to Sister Teodora. I suppose I should be jealous."

Ezio offered a roguish grin. "Would you like me to make it up to you?" he asked in a low, suggestive voice.

She made a great show of thinking about it. "I might... except you're so busy I find you boring. I'll just have to find someone else to entertain me. I hear Teodora's men are quite imaginative."

"I wouldn't know."

"Too bad... you might learn from them."

And with a quick kiss she leapt up the façade of the inner courtyard, off to do whatever she pleased.

Ezio smiled, shaking his head slightly and wondering who - if anyone - could ever tame that woman.

Ezio made his way east, back to the Ponte Rialto and crossing over into the San Marco district, dominated as it was by the Palazzo Ducale and the Basilica di San Marco. He passed through the massive square, keeping his hood down and changing his gate and posture when he could. It had not even been six months since he allowed Doge Mocenigo to die, and now he'd killed a second Doge less than a week ago. Once he was south of the square he turned his way east, crossing into the narrow streets of L'Arsenale's district. It was undergoing a growth spurt, many sets of scaffolding, fences and platforms, architects hammering at walls or workmen carrying crates of bricks. The streets were narrow, heavily shadowed by the buildings and the construction, and also filled with Venetian guards.

Ezio, confident in his invisibility, still looked to the balconies and beams, weary of bumping into a guard in the packed streets or alerting a sharp eyed archer on the roofs. With the city tense from the death of a second Doge, and Silvio threatening the council for the title, he didn't even want to blink wrong at the guards. He decided to reconnoiter the location Antonio had given him before just barging in; he knew nothing of Bartolomeo d'Alviano, and thought to get a measure of the man before introducing himself.

It was because of this, because he was near the roofs and because he was being cautious, that he heard a weak, desperate,

"Please... help..."

He froze for a moment, looking around to see if it was an archer or some kind of trap, but the voice repeated itself, "Please... help... someone..." and Ezio scrambled up to the roofline, finding a secluded sky garden and a mercenary sprawled against it. His stomach was covered in blood, as was the wood around him, and his lips were as pale as his face. He had lost a lot of blood, and Ezio was quick to pull out his carefully maintained medical pack that Alfeo had taught him to make.

The mercenary wore a navy blue bandana about his head; something Antonio said was common with d'Alviano's host. His armor was mostly leather, ripped almost to shreds, and when Ezio tore apart the mercenary's shirt to examine the wound, he realized just what he was looking at. Slowly, he repacked his kit. "You must be one of Bartolomeo's men," Ezio said softly, "What's happened here? Where is he?"

"Silvio's thugs... attacked last night," he coughed. "Took him deeper into the district... north of here... Please... help..."

His plea doubled as his last words, as the blood loss at last overtook him, and he died.

Ezio looked down at the body, the senseless death that served no purpose, and he sighed, deep in his chest, before bending down and reaching over to close the man's eyes.

"Requiescat in pace."

After a moment of silence, Ezio stood and pulled himself up to the top of the sky garden, standing on its admittedly shaky roof; he closed his eyes and thought about the eagles he was named after, asking for their help and opening up his mind. He needed his intuition for this, his special sight to help him find Bartolomeo d'Alviano, and tell him about the courage of one of his men.

Heading north, Ezio kept to the roofs for faster travel, ducking under archers' gazes or working his way around them - tedious, but faster than planning around along balconies and plant posts. He worried that d'Alviano had been taken into L'Arsenale proper, if that was the case the fight was over before it even started, and the further north he went without any speck of gold to fill his vision, the more nervous he became.

At full dark he passed a checkpoint, he could tell from the ground, as a collection of four Venetian guards stood at the entrance of an alleyway and, circling around, he found more guards at similar posts. The Florentine took that as a good sign and worked his way past the checkpoint, into what was obviously a restricted zone. His boots were feather light over the roof tiles, and he slowly became aware of someone cursing as he made his way towards the water.

"Luridi cordardi! I'll take you all on! At the same time! With one arm - no - both arms tied behind my back! You must be wondering how this is even possible! Only release me and I'll gladly demonstrate, miserabili pezzi di merda! You have no honor! No valor! No virtue! And people wonder why it is Venezia's star has begun to fade! I'll show mercy to whoever here has the courage to release me! All the rest of you are going to die! By my hand! I swear it! What sort of man sells his honor and dignity for a bit of coin? You realize you are in service to a traitor and a coward! Oh ho! Do you think I don't know why you've chained me up?! Do you think I don't know who pulls Silvio's puppet strings?! I've been fighting his weasel of a master since before most of you were even glimmers in your fathers' eyes! Let me out! Let me out! I swear, once I'm free of this cage I'm going to make it my mission to sever each and every one of your fucking heads and shove them up your fucking asses! And I've no intention of matching ass to head either. Oh, and what a grand display it will be! The likes of which will be sung for years to come!"

... Ezio couldn't see the gold flicker of intuition, but his ears were burning so hard he knew he had the right man. The man in the gondola storage cage - as Ezio saw when he crept over a platform reaching out over the roof he was hiding on - was certainly spirited, and given his extended opinion of Silvio Barbarigo, Ezio knew he had found Bartolomeo d'Alviano.

Crawling forward onto his stomach, Ezio's eagle helped him ascertain the situation. No less than four guards stood at the door to the cage - a testament to the strength of the man inside - and there was an archer above them; only Ezio's low profile and the shadows of the brick wall next to him kept him invisible. There were no other guards that he could see, but he knew this was a restricted area; even one shout would bring all the armored guards from the checkpoints barreling in.

... He should have brought Ugo, or Rosa.

Leaning back and away from the sight of the archer, he looked at what he'd brought with him. The firearm was too noisy, and the recoil was terrible. Poison would only work if he could get close to the guards, and while he could do that with the archer, he couldn't with the four guarding the cursing d'Alviano. He did have one smoke bomb...

A plan slowly formulated in his mind, and he nodded, doubling back and circling around to the blind side of the archer, creeping up on near-silent boots and stabbing him in the back, controlling the fall. Picking up the body, he edged his way towards the canal, bracing himself, and threw the body out over the water.

The splash was loud after falling over two stories, and two guards left their post to investigate. Ezio waited, anticipation filling his body but not his mind as he watched carefully, waiting for both backs to be turned, and then he leapt down, both hidden blades extended, and plunged them into the necks of the two guards left at d'Alviano's cage. There was a gurgled cry and a startled gasp from the man in the gondola storage cage, but Ezio was already reaching into his pouch and throwing the smoke bomb onto the ground. The crack of the explosion was loud, but nothing like his firearm, and the two guards ran back to the new noise, the distraction at the river forgotten. They could only see an indistinct silhouette - assuming it was one of them, and began firing questions, but Ezio instead stood between them and grabbed their faces, extending his blades again for another double strike.

When the smoke cleared, four were dead at his feet, one in the water, and he was already working on the lock to free d'Alviano.

The man's hair was closely cropped, his head rectangular and neck thick, he was a big, bulky man with small eyes and a big mouth - literally and figuratively. "About goddamn time!" he cursed, stepping out of his prison. "I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you. Maybe both, just to be safe."

Ezio held his hands up in a placating gesture. "That's quite alright," he said, unwilling to be slapped by a man, and certainly not kissed.

"Who are you?" d'Alviano asked, studying him in the moonlight.

"I am Ezio Auditore da Firenze. I'm here to rescue you."

"Ha!" the mercenary laughed. "Let's see who winds up rescuing who."

"... What do you mean?"

"Down there! Stop them!"

Damn. The noise had still managed to carry, meaning the entire area was about to be filled with all the guards from the checkpoint. Ezio stole a glance at d'Alviano.

"We should go."

"Agreed! There are still more heads to be smashed!"

... What?

"Perhaps we should try and avoid conflict?" Ezio asked, already darting down a shadowed alley for cover.

"Why? Are you afraid?"

"No," Ezio said, hooking a left and then a sharp right, "just practical, given that they outnumber us."

The mercenary scoffed. "As you wish, my lady."

... Was everything a competition of masculinity with this man? Ezio shook his head, smirking at the thought. Instead, he began explaining himself. "Silvio's set his men to ransacking your place. One of your men managed to stay alive long enough to tell me where to find you. Antonio de Magianis suggested I look you up if I want to raise an army."

"Ha! Now you're talking my language!" d'Alviano said brightly as they darted down a main street, going first south and then west and then south again. "I've been fighting that cazzo and his ilk for years now; it's good to see Antonio finally admits that fighting is better than thieving. He's more of a weeping vagina that even you."

Ezio tried not to be insulted, and before he could open his mouth to retort the mercenary was talking once again.

"Watch for the large one. Dante, he's called. Most of Silvio's men are useless, but that one is trouble. His mind is dimmer than even mine, but to fight him... He'll be the only challenge. All the other pezzo di merdi that Silvio's hired are little girls, they have no honor and sell themselves for the highest coin, thinking nothing of switching sides so long as they're paid more. My host and I will make their lives miserable."

They crossed a bridge and entered the enormous square of the Palazzo Ducale. Hooking south, Ezio paused at the Campanile di San Marco, hiding in its shadow while d'Alviano stayed out in the moonlight, seemingly oblivious at how visible he was. The large man took in a deep, happy breath. "Ah, sweet freedom, how I have missed you."

"You are a man of simple pleasure, I see," Ezio said, his eyes darting about.

"As any man should be," d'Alviano replied. "All any man needs to be happy is a sword and a woman. Anything after that is an unnecessary complication. So long as I am fighting, I am free, and so long as I am free, I am happy."

In that moment, Ezio decided he liked this man.

"Let's get going," he said, dipping out of the shadows and continuing south down the massive square. The streets were nearly empty this late at night, and Ezio was acutely aware of how obvious both he and d'Alviano were, especially as they neared the big man's general quarters. "Prepare yourself for a fight," he said cautiously.

There was another scoff. "No need! Bartolomeo is always prepared for a fight!"

That announced their presence, it seemed, for a Venetian guard in light armor exited the courtyard of Bartolomeo's tiny barracks, and saw them.

"If you value your life, you'll stand down," he said menacingly, drawing a dagger.

"Never!" Bartolomeo growled. "What good is a man's life if it's not lived free, eh? I'll not go back into a cage!"

"Then you'll go into the ground! Kill them!" And four more guards appeared from the courtyard, and Ezio and d'Alviano were suddenly pressed into a fight. Or, it might have been a fight, if anyone other than Bartolomeo was there. The big man took a chunky fist and rammed it into the face of the lightly armored guard, hitting with such force that the metal of his helmet dented into his nose, sending teeth flying everywhere and the man spinning down to the ground. The falling body gave the mercenary room to step into another guard's circle and shove a thick elbow into the man's neck, his other massive arm having grabbed the man's wrists to prevent a swing. The blow to the neck chocked the guard, and d'Alviano spun him around to wrap his impressive arms around the man's head, twisting and breaking the neck. He kicked up the sword in one fluid motion and blocked a third man's strike - no deflection, no circling, just holding up the parry and taking the blow, and then impressively shoving it away and landing another meaty punch, this time into the guard's gut, under the armor. This was followed up with the pommel of the stolen sword crashing into the back of the guards head, and in less than a minute three guards were down, Bartolomeo was armed, and he was grinning happily.

The fourth man was heavily armored, but that meant nothing to Bartolomeo, and he swatted the lance away like it was a toothpick before splitting the shaft in two with his sword - he struck with such force that the blade itself, a simply captain's sword, was shattered. The armored brute laughed, but that was all he had time to do as Bartolomeo boxed his ears, kicked his kneecap, and was shoved him into the brick wall of the courtyard.

The last guard took one look at the one-man army known as Bartolomeo d'Alviano, and turned and ran out of the courtyard, but not before Ezio took out a throwing knife and downed him.

"Ah! That was a good warm up!" d'Alviano said, a bright smile on his face that echoed Leonardo's at the sight of a puzzle. Ah, that was why Ezio liked him; he reminded him of his painter friend in such a whimsical enjoyment of life.

Inside the courtyard of Bartolomeo's general quarters was an unmitigated mess. Weapons and armor were strung about the ground, carts and dummies were overturned, a few telling splatters of blood were splashed on the walls. The door inside was hanging open, off its hinges, and only shadows were beyond.

"What a mess they've made..." Bartolomeo said, eying the destruction. Then a shiver passed over him, and his head snapped to the building proper. "Bianca! I hope she's unharmed!"

He ran inside.

Ezio followed quickly, wondering if Bianca was the same Bianca Antonio used when his thieves were injured, or if it was a different woman all together. He had said that a man only needed a sword and a woman; perhaps d'Alviano was married...?

Inside Bartolomeo could be heard crashing about, and Ezio quickly busied himself lighting candles, shedding light to better see. The damage was as extensive in here as it was outside, and Bartolomeo was frantic - meaning he was making even more of a mess.

"Bianca! Bianca! Look at this place! And poor Bianca... if something's happened to her..."

Touched by the concern, Ezio suggested that they search the rest of the stables-cum-barracks.

"And why should we do that?" d'Alviano demanded. "She would only ever be here and... Aha!" he cried out, shoving a desk aside and reaching down. "Oh, my darling. Thank God you're alright!"

And from behind the desk, Bartolomeo pulled out a sword.

... A sword.

Grinning like a child, Bartolomeo swung it around briefly, extolling its beauty, before casting his gaze to the Florentine. "Ezio," he said brightly, "meet Bianca. Bianca, Ezio."

And he held the sword to Ezio's throat, again seemingly oblivious to how threatening the move was.

The best Ezio could offer was a tight, "Charmed..." before batting the (admittedly impressive) broadsword away.

"So," Bartolomeo said, sheathing his beloved sword. "I know your name, but not why you are here. What do you want with Silvio Barbarigo and my men?"

Ezio quickly explained the meeting with Agostino Barbarigo, Silvio's threats to the council of forty-one, and Ezio's desire to have an... audience... with the man.

"Ah!" Bartolomeo said when he finally understood. "It would be my honor!"

"But it's going to require more than just the two... er... three," he added quickly, glancing at the broadsword Bianca as d'Alviano stroked it, "of us to weaken his forces. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"I'll go and ready my men for battle. Most of them were able to retreat when we realized we were outnumbered. While I do this, I'd like you to rescue those who were captured during Silvio's assault. I cannot, in good conscience, leave them behind, and I need to see if you actually have a pair of anything between those legs of yours."

... Right.

"Understood," Ezio said slowly, nodding his head. "I will attend to it at once."

The mercenary smiled. "Good luck out there, Ezio."

Ezio's first stop was back to the Palazzo della Seta and Antonio. It was dawn by the time he returned, and the aristocratic thief could only laugh at Ezio's impressions of the mercenary.

"He's a condottieri," the thief said, as if it explained everything.

Explaining what had happened to Bartolomeo's host, Antonio as more than happy to lend his thieves, assigning Ugo to the Florentine to help ascertain where the captured mercenaries were. With his gondola, Ugo and his men made quick work of the district, and reported by the end of the day where the major cages and cells were. With his reconnaissance done, Rosa and her men joined Ezio, and over the next three days they broke the mercenaries out of prison: Rosa distracting the guards and leading them on merry chases as Ezio broke the locks. The mercenaries were happy to be free and proud to flank Ezio as he led them back to Bartolomeo's general quarters.

At the end of the week, the converted stables were full, and many cheered to see Ezio enter it as he made his way
inside, meeting with Bartolomeo.

The condottieri was oiling Bianca to prevent rust that would weaken the blade. The mercenary looked up as Ezio walked in and smiled, putting down his work.

"Salute, Ezio. Welcome back. And well done," Bartolomeo grasped Ezio's arms with the grip of steel. "My host is restored to its former glory. Now Silvio will see just how grave a mistake he's made," Bartolomeo said with a cruel and amused smile.

Ezio nodded. "How should we proceed? A direct assault against the Arsenale?"

The condottieri shook his head. "No. We'd be massacred at the gates," he sad. "Haven't you learned anything about warfare?"

Ezio only shrugged. He'd worked with mercenaries before, certainly, the attack on Salviati's villa coming to mind, but he had always used them based on his own skills and what he would need.

Bartolomeo scoffed. "We'll need to change that. I have something else in mind for that pezzo di merda. We'll plant my men throughout the district. The trouble they cause will force Silvio to dispatch most of his guards."

Ezio saw where this plan was going in an instant. "And with the Arsenale drained of mercenaries, I can move in for the kill."

"Exactly! You'll be virtually unopposed."

"Let's hope he takes the bait," Ezio nodded.

"Oh, don't worry. He will."

From there, the two of them started to pour over the maps, discussing where would be better places for havoc. It was an interesting learning experience. Ezio, who had used thieves and courtesans by the score over the years, knew how to distract in open squares and crowded streets. Bartolomeo who had practically lived in the saddle and battlefields, knew how to distract with flanking and feinting. Ezio knew how to distract in small areas where Bartolomeo worked over large fields.

They spent most of the day planning where to best place men, discussing the pros and cons and, above all, how to keep the citizens safe.

"Those dickless men of Silvio's are the ones who give mercenaries a bad name," Bartolomeo commented. "They're the ones that, after a battle, will go in and rape and rob a village. Those men need to have their cazzo removed and stuffed down their throats."

By mid afternoon, Bartolomeo had instructed his men of what their job was and both he and Ezio started to head out into the city in small groups, placing the mercenaries at the ideal spots they'd spent all day figuring out. Those with Ezio tended to marvel as he scaled a wall or building to check positioning and if there were any pitfalls ahead like a patrolling squad.

Slipping through the Castello district and placing the mercenaries took more time than Ezio anticipated, but none of the men accompanying him were lost. They all would wait for the signal, Ezio only needed to return to Bartolomeo and find it.

He headed south, down to San Pietro di Castello. Church of the Bishop of the city, it was noticeably far away from the Palazzo Ducale, a symbolic separation of church and state; it was also the first building to be faced with Venice's famous Istrian white stone that now covered many buildings, including the Palazzo Ducale.

"Ah, there you are!" Bartolomeo greeted. "Is it done?"

"Yes," Ezio smiled. "All your men are in place."

"Bene, bene." Bartolomeo reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a canister Ezio was familiar with closer to Carnevale. "Take this. I assume you know how it works?"

Ezio nodded, thinking of his time separated from Antonio as the thief sniffed out a traitor; he had spent Carnevale with several beautiful women and setting off fireworks - to ignite their own physical fireworks.

Bartolomeo looked at Ezio's smile and grinned as well. "Find the highest point you can and fire it from there."

"It will signal all our men in the district," Ezio nodded. "I will see you on the battlefield."

"That you will."

Two mercenaries, Beppe and Vanni, went with Ezio as his back up. They slipped through the streets, the late evening sun casting long shadows to hide in and the late spring dropping temperatures to almost chilly. Walking through the crowds heading home, Ezio kept light conversation with his two comrades, appearing to be a bunch of friends heading out for a late drink. But Ezio's sharp eyes were to the rooflines; looking for a tall church tower he'd remembered from when he first explored Venice when he'd arrived, all those years ago.

"Ah, there it is," he whispered. Beppe nodded and Vanni simply took position at an alley entrance, looking casual, but still blocking the way. Ezio scrambled up the wall, reaching the roof and then used what little light was left from the disappearing sun to plot his route up the tower. It was difficult, climbing at night. The candles and lanterns from the streets below didn't provide adequate light and the moon was just a tiny sliver in the sky, not enough to go by. So Ezio made his climb by feel, squinting when he needed to leap as Rosa had taught him and carefully making sure he was timing it will in the dim light.

When he finally reached the top, Ezio took a moment, his legs wrapped around the cross to simply catch his breath and shake out his arms.

Once his body wasn't quite so angry with him, he pulled out his flint and lit first a candle, so that he could see, protected from the wind this high up by his limbs. Finally able to see, Ezio set up the canister and lit the fuse, aiming it up to the sky. It flew into the sky leaving a trail and Ezio looked down to avoid being blinded, as there was a loud explosion above his head.

Ezio stayed still, seeking to get his hearing back and also to ensure he could still see what he was doing. Putting out his candle, he put it away and started the long climb down.

It wasn't until he was almost at the roofline when Ezio's sharp eyes spotted something he didn't wish to see. Bartolomeo only had three men with him and were facing a full squad along with Dante.

Whether Bartolomeo would ever admit it or not, he needed help.

Glancing down, Ezio spotted a haystack and did some quick calculations. It would likely hurt, but he needed to get down faster than he was currently going. Ezio let out a whistle, calling Beppe and Vanni's attention as he leapt away from the tower to a haystack located in a yard across the street.

"What the hell!" Beppe shouted.

The landing did hurt. Ezio's sword dug sharply into his hip and his shoulder felt bruised, but Ezio paid it no mind as he got out of the haystack and leapt the wall back to the alley and startling the two mercenaries.

"Bartolomeo is in trouble," Ezio said firmly before they could start asking questions, "We need to hurry."

That was all either of them needed to hear. They followed him down the alley and over a canal, immediately engaging Bartolomeo's overwhelmed squad. Beppe and Vanni dove right in, swinging axe and broadsword in wide arcs, cutting down unsuspecting enemies while Ezio slipped to Bartolomeo's side and used his own sword to cut down an agile mercenary that was heading for the condotierri's blind spot.

"L'Arsenale," Dante muttered between locking broadswords, "must get back..."

Ezio ducked under a slashing sword, swinging behind the assailant and slicing the tendons behind the knees, knocking the man down before Ezio flipped his sword and plunged it into the man's chest.

Bartolomeo laughed. "Salute, Ezio!"

"Care for some company?" Ezio offered.

"By all means!"

Back to back, they squared off. Bartolomeo focused on Dante and keeping him occupied. Ezio, in turn, kept anyone from attacking Bartolomeo. It was a good combination until a pair of hulking brutes in full plated armor came dashing forth. One engaged Bartolomeo right away while the other swing at Ezio who, in lighter armor, had to jump back.

Dante, no longer fighting Bartolomeo - who was fending off heavy axe, blinked and turned, no doubt heading to the L'Arsenale as he'd been muttering to himself.

Bartolomeo didn't care for this. Not one bit. "You have no honor!" he shouted at Dante's retreating back. "You've nothing but a gaping whole between your thighs, wide open and inviting for anyone with a real cazzo to pierce it! Porca puttana!"

But the brute swung his axe at the condotierro, that Bartolomeo held his Bianca perpendicular, blocking it.

Ezio, meanwhile, kept dancing around the brute that was attacking him.

"Bastardo!" the brute growled, "Stay still, damn it! Before I find your mother and show her what a proper man is like!"

Ezio ignored him, dodging back again, studying the brute and his armor. As the brute kept swinging and Ezio kept prancing around and deflecting, he noticed that some of the armor was starting to bunch, unable to keep up with the constant swinging, meaning Ezio had a chance. With another swing, Ezio ducked in close and aimed five precise stabs of his hidden blades into each weakness he saw. The brute gurgled something before falling back, dead.

Turning Ezio saw that Bartolomeo was still laughing at the brute that he was facing, blocking and kicking the brute in delicate areas. Ezio knew Bartolomeo was enjoying the fight, but there was little enough time for this. So Ezio leapt forward, hidden blade extended behind him and then thrust the blade between the helmet and pauldrons and into the neck, his weight and momentum knocking the man down even as Ezio landed precisely and stood quickly.

Bartolomeo wasn't paying any attention, however. He was already heading in the direction they'd last seen Dante flee. "After him!"

The two chased through the streets, knocking the occasional guard into one of Bartolomeo's men for further distraction as they ducked through every dark alley and shortcut Bartolomeo knew as they approached the Arsenale.

Silvio Barbarigo, it seemed, had spotted them when the reached the only gate that lead into the shipyard. The square was filled with mercenaries, both Bartolomeo's and Silvio's, and Dante was wading through them.

"A fine specimen, isn't he?" the last Barbarigo shouted from atop L'Arsenale's walls. "You should be honored to die by his hand!"

Bartolomeo offered his own opinion. "Suck my balls, muso da mona! Porca puttana!" He turned to Ezio as they also slipped through the warring mercenaries. "Come on, Ezio! We need to stop that grassone bastardo!"

Dante seemed to hear the underlying order Silvio had given, though how was anyone's guess given his low intelligence, and turned to fight once more. Bartolomeo took him on while Ezio was once more at the condotierro's back defending it. When he thought he could, Ezio slipped to the fighting mercenaries as well, helping Bartolomeo's men thin the ranks of Silvio's private army. Ezio made his kills quick and quiet, stabbing men from the back rather than engaging directly, so that he could slip back to Bartolomeo's back and defend it once more.

Silvio above them, however, seemed quite chatty.

"You think I don't know why you're here, Ezio?! But you're too late!"

Too late for what? Did Silvio have a ship to escape on?

"There's nothing you can do to prevent us from obtaining it."

"It?" Ezio called up. "What are you hiding?"

"Ah! That's right! You still don't know, do you?" Silvio laughed from on high. "Though once Dante's done with you it won't matter anymore."

Ezio growled a curse under his breath as he blocked the lance of a guard, letting it slide harmlessly to the side and then stepping forward and kicking him in between the legs. With the guard screaming and clutching his delicate bits, Ezio slashed his sword through the man's screaming mouth and out the back of his head before yanking it out and kicking the body away.

"Do you miss him, Ezio? Your fool of a father?" Silvio laughed again. "My greatest regret is that I could not have been the one to pull the lever. To watch him kick and gasp and hang!"

Ezio saw, yet again, his family swinging from the gallows and something inside him snapped. Nobody mocked the death of his family. No one. Ezio surged forward, a whirlwind of death and destruction as he danced through the mercenaries, taking down those wearing the red of Silvio's crest and aiding the blue of Bartolomeo's men. The red mercenaries all fell to his blades, be it his dagger, sword, throwing knife, it didn't matter. On one he was able to knock a mercenary to his knees, then he put the gun of his hidden blade to the man's head and fired, using the recoil to turn and swung his sword through the clavicle of another of Silvio's men. The sword stuck in the bones, but Ezio kicked him off and kept on slicing.

"You'll follow him into the ground!" Silvio shouted, starting to sound desperate. "You and that mercenary captain both! And after we'll come for the others! Your uncle. Your mother. Your sweet, sweet sister."

But Silvio's men were all falling under Ezio's blade and Bartolomeo was beating back the bulky Dante.

"Enough of this! We're out of time!" Silvio shouted to his mulish servant. "Return to me. We must depart."

Bartolomeo dashed after Dante, but was blocked by another of Silvio's mercenaries.

"Ezio! Go now! That brute will no doubt lead you straight to his master! My men and I will remain here and keep the guards from giving chase."

Ezio nodded, feeling a little more clear-headed now that Silvio wasn't making the murder of his family dance behind his eyes. "Be careful! I wish to fight by your side again!"

"Ha! No doubt we will! Now go!"

Ezio dashed through the warring mercenaries and entered the gate just as Silvio was collecting Dante.

"Hurry!" Silvio shouted. "They're going to leave without us!" Together they ran off, Ezio quickly pursuing and taking to the roofs when he thought he saw the shadow of guards in the flickering light of the torches and slow dawn.

Ezio was moving slower than he liked, as the sun was just cresting over the horizon, but he was able to keep pace with them as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop in the fortified Arsenale. Silvio and Dante reached the dock just as a ship was leaving through the Porta Magna.

"God damn them all!" Silvio cursed. "I've been nothing but loyal! And this - this - is how they repay me?"

Dante looked stupidly to the Barbarigo. "What trouble, master?"

"Don't you see what's happened?!"

"No."

Ezio was getting closer. He could see them at the dock.

"Of course not, slow as you are," Silvio spat. "We've been betrayed! The ship has sailed - without us! And now the Assassin approaches. Perhaps there's still time for us to escape. If not to the island, at least away from here..."

Ezio didn't let them get any farther away. He leapt, both blades extended, and drove a blade into each man's neck, making them pitch forward to the ground.

Now, for some answers.

"What happened here?" Ezio demanded. "Why the boats? I thought you sought the Doge's seat?"

Silvio gasped as blood filled his lungs. "Just a distraction. We were meant to sail..." But Silvio seemed to catch himself.

"Sail where?" Ezio demanded.

"I'll... never... tell..." Silvio breathed his last breath.

"Cyprus is their destination," Dante muttered. "They want... they want..." but he, too, was gone.

Ezio let out a long and heavy sigh. "Fear not the darkness, but welcome its embrace. Requiescat in Pace."

Standing, he slipped back to the shadows of dawn and once more ascended to the roofs of the shipyard, and backtracked, his mind heavy.

If Silvio didn't want the Doge's seat, what did he want? What was on Cyprus that they desired so badly? All this distraction and death, and for what? Ezio was no closer to an answer and it left him wondering what the Templars really sought. For years now, Ezio thought his father and brothers had been killed because they had discovered a Templar conspiracy to conquer the cities of Italy. Now he wasn't so sure.

What was it all for?

Ezio exited l'Arsenale as the sun finally crested the horizon. The square was littered with bodies, almost all wearing the red of Silvio's men. Venice's guards and police were there, cleaning up and dragging off bodies at Agostino's orders from the sound of it, and doctors were out in force, talking to Bartolomeo's men.

As for the condotierro himself, he was dirty and rumpled and smiling brightly with a hearty laugh. "Well done, Ezio! Silvio is defeated and the Castello district returned to us! Perhaps now Venezia might finally enjoy a bit of peace and quiet!" With a meaty hand, he slapped Ezio's shoulder. "We should celebrate this victory!"

Ezio gave a wistful smile. "I am glad for you and your men, Bartolomeo, but I cannot join." He looked east to the rising sun, and the ship sailing away for Cyprus. "I fear my work has just taken a rather strange turn..."

Bartolomeo's great big smile disappeared to complete seriousness. "What do you mean?"

"Silvio wasn't looking to replace Marco as Doge," Ezio explained. "He was about to leave Venezia, in fact. This whole thing was just a distraction."

"Why?"

"... That is what I need to find out."

With Venice at last settled into Agostino's hands as Doge, things started to return to normal in the Castello district. Bartolomeo was granted all Silvio's old barracks, though the Arsenale remained stubborn on many things. It appeared that the Arsenale had been in Templar hands for too long and Templar aligned people still ran it. It made seizing documents to find out what Silvio had been after on Cyprus difficult and bogged down in official proceedings.

Ezio could only shake his head at the delays, and settled in for a wait. Antonio offered to just sneak in and steal it, but after all the turmoil in the city, Agostino wished to avoid anything that might antagonize the tension still left over in the city. Ezio was inclined to agree. Walking the streets the citizens were worried that another war within the city would break out, as it had between Bartolomeo's men and the Barbarigo's.

It was, in a way, frustrating with how long it took Agostino to settle into Doge and start streamlining things. Though the man was a good politician, he was no Lorenzo de' Medici. He couldn't sway the people as Florence's patron did, and as such it took him longer to get anything done.

While Venice was working to get back on her feet, Teodora very firmly stated that Ezio would be staying with her at her brothel, instead of anywhere else. She wished to teach him invisibility in the crowds. Ezio protested, having already learned these lessons from Paola years ago. Teodora merely gave a delicate smile in response. It seemed that while Ezio was a good hand at invisibility and had been for years, his body had been changing. After all, he'd been in constant combat and battle, training in all methods of fighting, for years now as well. His body now possessed a natural grace that came when one was in complete control of one's body. He still moved for invisibility but never seemed to take that grace into account. The average person wouldn't notice, but a trained soldier or mercenary would.

This was harder to master than his initial lessons with Paola on how to position his hips or shoulders, as his body was used to doing things one way and he had to unlearn it to do things a different way.

Word came from Santino that he'd recently come into possession of an interesting sword from the East, one he was certain that Ezio would be interested in. Ezio sent a letter back saying that he'd like to see it once he returned to Monteriggioni, but that it would still be a while before he could return.

Spring quickly turned to summer and Agostino continued to legally fight for the documents of l'Arsenale, making slow headway, if any at all. Some good things came Ezio's way, however.

Antonio, whose thieves still kept an eye out for Codex pages, had miraculously come across a few in one of their jobs. Ezio took a trip to Milan to visit Leonardo for a month or so to escape the hottest, or rather, the muggiest, weather in Venice, and ruminated on some of the passages.

"Attis. Dionysus. Horus. Krishna. Mithra. Jesus. Similar stories color their lives. Too similar, I think. Divine birthright. Persecution. Disciples. Miraculous acts. Resurrection...

"How is it possible?

"Perhaps it isn't... Merely a single story told over the ages? Borrowed then changed to fit the times? Evolving as our tools and language do? Is this tale born of fact or fiction? A bit of both? Could these figures be the same person - their life extended and transformed by a Piece of Eden?

"Al Mualim spoke of Jesus as a real person - a mortal who had mastered the arts of manipulation. But what if he was wrong? If these men are real - and if they have walked amongst us many times before - does it mean they'll come again? Perhaps they are here now? So many questions, and every day, even more..."

Ezio kept returning to this passage in particular, unable to make sense of it. While hardly a devout Catholic, his family did attend mass regularly, as was expected. He listened to the sermons and speeches of the clergy, on Jesus and his miracles. This idea that Jesus was either a fraud or someone else was difficult to wrap his mind around. There was also this strange mention of a "Piece of Eden." Mario had mentioned it years ago, and occasionally it would slip into conversation, but Ezio didn't understand it. Didn't comprehend it. It sounded more fantasy than reality. One person living the lives of Horus, Jesus, Krisna, others? No being had ever lived that long. Centuries separated the stories. The theory of Altair of a story borrowed and altered for each new culture was far more plausible. Indeed, whenever Ezio read Altair's works, he found the ancient Assassin to be knowledgeable and grounded firmly in reality. But the occasional excerpts from the Codex like this. Ezio couldn't help but wonder...

Maybe Altair, as he grew older, started to separate from reality, as some men occasionally did with age. But the questions Altair posed showed he was still thinking clearly.

Ezio left such thoughts and returned to Venice with the cooler weather of autumn and returned to relearning invisibility with Teodora, waiting for Agostino to finally get the documents of the Arsenale.

While walking around Venice, Ezio occasionally found a young thief, sent from Antonio, who was a new recruit and couldn't believe the legends that the older thieves had of Ezio's speed, even when in armor. Ezio had no problem teaching them a lesson in humility and leaving them in his dust.

Ezio took pleasure in joining the painters at various areas in Venice, learning more and honing his own skills in the field. Ezio knew he'd never be a master like Leonardo or even some of the apprentices he spoke with, but he liked to think he was improving. He did a fair job of the targets he'd killed thus far, having studied each of them while hunting for them. He also found more feathers of lovely colors and size, as he wandered the city, and collected them for his mother. Claudia's letters had reported that Maria seemed to be getting better. She was doing things on her own instead of just going through the motions, but it was stiffly and lacking any feeling.

Winter was rainy, as expected, and Bartolomeo started to visit Teodora's to grab Ezio and teach him a thing or two about soldiering, particularly in such unpleasant weather.

So Ezio kept learning, briefly wondering, from time to time, when he'd ever stop learning, before he remembered both his parents saying that an education never truly stops until one was dead.

December came and Ezio kept painting and finding a bed to warm himself in. It didn't seem to have the same meaning, not after his meeting of Christina at Carnevale. But Ezio couldn't forget, not unless he was with someone for a few hours, and the cold of December always needed him to find some way to forget, especially between Christmas and New Years.

The following year followed much the same pattern. Ezio kept helping around Venice where he could, if Agostino asked it, raced the young braggarts of Antonio, and kept learning under Bartolomeo and Teodora. Antonio, who  now seemed to have a nose for Codex pages, would send them his way, and Ezio spent the summer in Milan again to relax away from the muggy Venice weather and study Altair's words again.

Indeed, Ezio was finding he had a fair bit that he traveled with now. The Codex pages, the feathers, the seals he'd found, he wouldn't dare trust any of them with a courier heading to Tuscany. And the few times he'd seen Mario, his uncle was always off somewhere, never heading to home, so Ezio kept holding onto these important and precious things. He was certain he was going to need a wagon to bring everything back to Monteriggioni at his rate.

The year quietly passed by again, and Ezio was settled in his routine.

It was early spring when Teodora finally pronounced that he was once again a master of hiding in the crowds and promptly asked him to leave the brothel. He just smiled, intending to stay with Antonio (and Rosa) again, but Bartolomeo dragged him to his new barracks in the Castello district and had Ezio start teaching some of the mercenaries a thing or two about facing a swift opponent. (Like the new thieves who challenged him, the mercenaries couldn't quite believe how fast Ezio was, especially without armor.) In fact, Bartolomeo had no problems starting a betting pool in the sparring, and Ezio always left the ring with more coins in his purse.

One early summer morning, however, Ugo arrived and told Ezio that the odd skull symbol had been found.

Ugo took Ezio in his gondola down to the Dorsoduro district where Ezio had spent so much time under Teodora's tutelage. They arrived at the Santa Maria della Visitazione. A church originally dedicated to librarians and encyclopedia writers, a church dedicated to knowledge, something Ezio could appreciate, it had been rechristened for the Virgin Mother's visit with Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist. A church overlooking the waters of Venice, it was small compared to the Frari, but being at the edge of the Dorsoduro, it received far more sunlight with dawn shining brightly on it's white façade.

Under long shadows on the west side of the church, Ugo swiftly climbed up, Ezio following and once on the roof, the approached the back of the church near the bell tower. In the deep shadows of the rising sun, Ezio spotted the small skull in the assassin symbol.

"I'll take care of this from here," he told Ugo as he hopped down to the lower roofline.

"I should come with you," the thief replied. "You never know what you're going to find."

Ezio looked up to him and smiled. "I do know what I'm going to find. Send my thanks to Antonio."

"Fine, fine," Ugo grumbled, but he left as Ezio wished. Alone in the shadows, Ezio pulled at the eyes of the skull and stepped into the bell tower.

It was a long climb down, and once at the base of the bell tower, Ezio's sharp eyes spotted another Assassin symbol, pointing down through the floor. Switching to his eagle's sight, he spotted a stone and pushed it, revealing a tiny crawlspace that he squeezed into, the darkness complete as the opening closed behind him. Ezio crawled along in the dark, eventually coming across a ladder that went down even further.

One of the great myths of Venice was that it was a city built on water. This wasn't true. Venice was a series of islands on a lagoon that were close enough together to build bridges, rather than swimming across. This wasn't to say that some buildings weren't on any actual islands. There were many areas where the city had, over the centuries, filled in the land to build structures, and the brightest engineers were designing better posts for support that one could only hope didn't rot in the wet environment of Venice.

By this point, Ezio knew he was likely under the lagoon itself, water leaked in, dripping from above and puddles were common along with mud on the stone floors. Like at the Santa Maria Novella, Ezio found himself in catacombs. From his belt he pulled out a candle he had grabbed before joining Ugo (one of several) and lit it with his flint to get a better look at his surroundings. His eyes spotted another Assassin symbol pointing the way and started to make his way through the catacombs.

It was easily two hours and three candles later that Ezio dropped down a narrow hole in a wall to find a cavernous room partially submerged in water. In the center of the room was a small Roman-styled building, like a room in a room, with a clearly carved Assassin symbol on the door. Looking around, Ezio saw that the waters had done much damage over the centuries. Once elegant stone pillars were crumbling away, wooden beams were almost black with rot, and there didn't appear to be any stairs that lead to the tomb. With water everywhere, Ezio couldn't see any handholds that wouldn't be slippery and swimming wasn't the best of options if he wanted to light his candles as he went so that he could see better.

So Ezio closed his eyes, focused on the bird he was named after, and opened that corner of his mind often kept closed. He needed a way in to the tomb, and all he needed was a flicker of gold to see where to go. He scanned the room slowly, looking from side to side, trying to see what he needed, wondering where he was supposed to go.

It wasn't until, on a whim, he looked up that he spied some sort of lever apparatus on a ledge above him.

Right. Now how to get there...?

Ezio put his candle down and started to study the decaying pillars again. If he was to climb up to that lever, there would likely be a path on the pillars than the slippery walls.

Lighting another candle, Ezio slowly started to follow a path, checking and double checking all his placements and seeing if the next stone he was leaping for was stable enough to not crumble under his weight.

Partway around he set his candle down and started to study again, now that he could see more than he had before, and lit another candle to use on his path.

Progress was slow, using up many of his candles so that he could still see where he was going and where he had been. At one point, Ezio reached the back of the tomb and found a wooden door that likely lead inside, but while it was partially rotted, there must have been a collapse of some kind behind it, since the door refused to budge.

Back to circling around on broken down pillars and arches and walls.

Finally, Ezio reached an upper ledge that was still solid, overlooking the tomb below and he walked along to find the lever he had seen before.

It was surprisingly dry, given the leaking lagoon, and solid as Ezio heaved the heavy lever up, spinning a wooden gear of some kind and hearing chains in the walls start to move.

Looking down to the tomb, stairs started to rise up from the waters and the Assassin symbol and its wall, sank into the ground.

"Perfect."

Ezio leapt down easily to where he had first arrived and carefully ascended the slippery stairs to the tomb. Inside was dry and Ezio put his candle to one of the torches and used that to light his way instead as he entered the tomb of Leonis, an ancient Assassin who favored a dagger.

Shoving aside the lid of the sarcophagus, Ezio pulled out the seal and then took a moment to bow to the old Assassin. Here, like with other tombs, was filled with antiquities and treasures, but Ezio had no need of them. So he took a moment to feel the wisdom and history before finding a wooden hatch and using it to leave.

Author's Note: Another memory in one go. AND a tomb, w00t! I don't think it's even possible to cram more content in a chapter. And dear Barto; he's certainly interesting. The language he uses (and subsequently we had to force ourselves to use). It was fun and horrifying at the same time. We're going to go to hell... The memories are coming a little fast now, a short timeskip and then the next memory; there isn't much wiggle room to branch out, and we think this section suffers for it. This is also when we were most exhausted with the writing. Both of us were wondering if the fic would EVER finish. Venice is our least favorite part of the game, it always drags for us when we play it, and it drags in the actual timeline - four years just to break out thieves and then, what, three memories inside a year? There's also a lack of personal connection; Ezio has allies in Venice, to be sure, but he doesn't really have family like he does with Lorenzo in Florence, and the diconnect hits us hard in the game,and made writing Venice even harder. We tried. We hope you like.

Anyway, not much to say about this chapter. It's pretty self-explanatory.

And oh yeah, WE FINISHED AC3! It... we... Connor! Desmond...! There's... just... SO MUCH to say but we know some of our reviewers haven't gotten the game yet. Just... Just... gyaaah!

Next chapter: Borgia. Mario. Apple. It's going to be great. See you in a week!