AC2 Novelization Part 22

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Part Twenty-Two: Battle of Forli

Unsurprisingly, despite the Spaniard's sound defeat, Rodrigo Borgia's men hounded Ezio and his fellow Assassins, as they wanted the Apple back. Teodora, Antonio, and Bartolomeo stayed in the city, distracting guards and drawing the eyes away from the strategic withdrawal of Ezio, his uncle, and this new Assassin Ezio hadn't met before, Niccolo Machiavelli. During the course of this withdrawal, Ezio had looked at the artifact in the crate long enough to hear whispers and know that he and the others would not be able to figure it out on their own.

Altair, after all, had been far more learned that Ezio was, and even he could not crack the mysteries of this strange sphere completely. And Ezio could hear the whispers Altair wrote of. A quiet indistinguishable chorus along the back of his mind. It unnerved him, made him think of magic and sleight-of-hand that was all trickery and none of it truly magic. But such sorcery was there, whispering to him. So Ezio kept the Piece of Eden locked in its egg-shaped winged container, and tucked away in a crate or saddlebags that he never let out of his possession.

Ezio doubted he'd ever understand the thing, not the way Altair had, but there was one person he knew who might have the ability to do so.

Thus, on their quiet escape from Venice, Ezio insisted they get his dearest and oldest friend, Leonardo.

It was not the first time Leonardo had met Mario, nor was it the first time that Leonardo had met Mario when the nobleman was acting like an Assassin, but it was the first time Leonardo wasn't pushed out of more private ceremonies of the Assassins. The painter was right along Ezio's side as they slipped quietly onto gondolas and escaped to a ship waiting in the lagoon to set sail and Leonardo stayed by Ezio's side as his injuries were checked and tended to.

While on the ship, Ezio stayed out of armor, considering them safe for the moment and wanting to give his shoulder proper time to heal so that the weight of the Missalgias wouldn't do more harm. He still insisted that the Piece of Eden, the Apple, whatever it was called, stay with him. He couldn't explain why, not really, but even though the ship was safe, there was no one tailing them, and he was amongst friends, Ezio didn't dare let the thing out of his possession. He didn't want the whispering to affect anyone else. Ezio could ignore the whispers, as Altair could, but Altair also wrote that many had fallen under the Apple's grasp and Ezio had no intention of letting his friends and allies falling under whatever its spell was.

They disembarked in Romagna and found a small house that Bartolomeo had acquired for them near the Avamposto meant for family of the Venetian navy. They settled in for a few days, giving Ezio more time to recover, and it was during this time that the Piece of Eden was finally studied to figure out why the hell the Spaniard wanted a sphere with strange simplistic golden engravings.

Of course, Ezio understood. The whispers likely called to the Spaniard as well, though none of his friends seemed to hear it.

Ezio carefully pulled the ball from its treasure case and laid it on a table in the study, all the heavy curtains drawn despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. He made certain not to touch it directly as it rolled onto the table in front of them, bizarrely emitting its own strange, soft glow.

Leonardo, his eyes alight with wonder, crouched forward, seeking to get a better look, and Mario and Machiavelli leaned in as well. Ezio stood tall by Leonardo's side, not trusting the thing.

"Fascinating!" Leonardo said in quiet wonder. "Absolutely fascinating..."

"What is it, Leonardo?" Ezio asked quietly as well. "What does it do?"

The painter shook his head. "I could no more explain this than explain to you why the Earth goes around the Sun."

"You mean the Sun around the Earth," Mario said raising a brow and throwing a questioning look at Ezio, clearly asking if Leonardo was as smart as Ezio claimed.

Leonardo leaned forward, still crouched down and looking at it at table level and reached out with his bare hand, turning the small globe around. "It's fabricated with materials that shouldn't exist and yet this is clearly a very ancient artifact." He let go and the Apple continued is soft, pulsing glow.

The whispers seemed to have gotten louder, but Ezio still couldn't make anything out of what they were saying.

"The Codex refers to it as a Piece of Eden," Mario said.

"The Spaniard..." Ezio added, "He called it the Apple."

Leonardo latched onto the information. "Like Eve's apple of forbidden knowledge?" The painter stood, looking to Ezio with curiosity. "Are you then suggesting that this thing...?"

But Ezio wasn't listening. The whispers were louder than before, calling to him, drawing him. Not realizing what was happening, Ezio reached forward with his bare left hand, the glow intensifying. The whispers were still indistinct, a chorus of unclear voices, but they were no longer whispers, they echoed in Ezio's mind, calling and pulling and drawing and Ezio's had came down on the artifact.

The Prophet!

The room was engulfed in light, images, equations, and indecipherable symbols, strange writings flashing about and hanging in the air for a moment to be replaced by something else. Ezio squinted at the light, the whispers singing joyously in the confines of his own mind and soothing him. Leonardo looked around curious and startled and focused at everything before it dispersed to something else. Mario and Machiavelli did not seem to fair so well. Both were grunting, groaning, almost yelling, as they clutched their heads and dropped to the floor.

In Ezio's own mind, the soothing was distracting, the light blinding, and yet calling for him all at once.

But his friends and family were in danger.

That was enough for him to take action.

The Prophet! Yet the Prophet is not ready...

The Apple seemed to agree, as Ezio swiftly stepped forward and hit the Piece of Eden with his bare hand again, turning off the lights and ringing Ezio had only just noticed, leaving them all blinking and adjusting once more to the candlelight.

Mario stood, rubbing his eyes and Machiavelli just sat on the floor, collecting himself again.

They stayed for a moment, recovering from what had only been seconds but felt like an eternity.

It was Leonardo who spoke first, curiosity and wonder replaced with solemnity. "This must never fall into the wrong hands. It would drive weaker minds insane."

Machiavelli grunted his agreement from the floor.

"No doubt the Spaniard will be relentless in his desire to gain it back," Ezio observed, the whispers finally gone from his mind.

He hoped.

Machiavelli stood and grabbed some cloth, hastily wrapping it around the Apple and being careful not to touch it as Mario poured wine for all of them. Once the Apple was covered, Machiavelli put it into a small pouch and turned to the young Assassin. He said, respectfully, "Ezio. You must protect this with all the skills we have taught you. Clearly no other can handle its... power."

Mario downed his glass of wine and nodded. "Take it to Forli. The citadel's walls are protected by canons and," he smirked despite the recent ordeal, "our ally controls it."

Ezio raised an eyebrow. "Who is this ally?"

Mario grinned broadly. "Her name is Caterina Sforza."

Ezio's smile was just as broad. "You don't say," he said, thinking of her spirited and colorful language and bold grasp of him when they'd last met. "I think I may enjoy this mission."

Ezio turned to Leonardo, who was also sipping his wine, mind likely occupied with all that information he'd seen. The young Assassin hugged the painter. "Thank you for everything, my oldest friend," he said softly.

Leonardo smiled, about to say something, but Mario interrupted.

"Leonardo!" the gruff nobleman said, "Ezio tells me that you live in Milano. I have a grand villa in Tuscana. You must come visit me there."

The painter grinned, bowing politely with his hand to his chest.

"In fact," Mario continued, "I'll be heading back to Tuscana tomorrow. I'm sure you can come with me, see how that assistant of yours is doing and then teach him a few things, no doubt. I'm sure Maria wouldn't mind a visit..."

Ezio watched his uncle drag Leonardo upstairs, making plans and smiled in gratitude. Leonardo would be able to get away safely, which was exactly what Mario intended.

Machiavelli sighed, rubbing his eyes, which were likely still covered in spots after the brightness of the Apple. "Tomorrow we shall leave as well, and head for Forli."

Ezio nodded. "It will be easier to sneak in with just two of us instead of a procession."

The younger Florentine Assassin gave a wry grin. "No doubt."

The next morning Ezio kept the Apple in a pouch hidden by his half cape. He would rather it in his saddlebags, but he couldn't count on it not being lifted. Better on his person where he could feel if anyone was close enough to steal it. The whispers were gone, which Ezio was grateful for, but he couldn't help but feel attuned to the Apple, aware of his presence hanging from his hip. He focused on ignoring it. Once it was safely locked away, Ezio would be quite happy indeed.

Ezio and Machiavelli stayed to the back roads towards small city. The July day was very warm and muggy, as Ezio expected being so close to Venice, and he kept the pace somewhat slow to spare the horses of overheating.

It was the following day that they finally crested a hill and saw the city in the distance, and Machiavelli advised Ezio to stay put while he went ahead to inform Caterina Sforza.

Ezio nodded, and found a tiny patch of woods to settle into for the day, brushing down his horse and checking all his equipment. His shoulder was feeling much better, which was good since now he needed to wear his armor again. The dry season was clearly in full swing and Forli wasn't anywhere near as flooded as it had been that winter years ago when he'd passed through with Leonardo heading to Venice.

The following day, Ezio spied Machiavelli riding up the hill with Caterina by his side, and a small platoon of green-clad Forli guards. Ezio mounted and rode down to meet them.

Caterina took one look at him as he approached and gave a sultry smile. "Well, well, look who it is."

Ezio smiled right back and offered the same seductive voice, "Madonna," he greeted.

The redhead smiled, "I thought when we met you were a bit special. But, an Assassin, hmmm?" she hummed appreciatively, putting her horse beside his. "Ride with me, darling," she gestured and they all turned, heading back down the hill to the city, the guards marching behind them.

"You're going to love Forli," Caterina said with a coy smile. "The cannons in the citadel alone go back a hundred years. The artifact will be quite safe there."

Ezio offered a polite bow on his horse. "Forgive me, but I've never heard of a woman ruling her own city before," he said, looking down to the city. "It's very impressive."

The redhead shrugged. "Well..." she said with a sigh, "It was my husband's before, of course. He died."

Ezio remembered the news of it coming through Venice. "Oh. I'm sorry." But that meant she wasn't attached to anyone any more. Ezio smiled at the thought, and pushed away the counter thought of his last encounter with Cristina.

Caterina smiled. "Don't be. I had him killed."

Ezio looked to one side and coughed. "Oh..." Clearly Caterina wasn't one to be trifled with.

Machiavelli was gracious enough to turn the conversation elsewhere. "We discovered Girolamo Riario was working for the Templars," he said and Ezio nodded.

"Il Magnifico mentioned that he was the one conspirator that we could not kill."

"Indeed," Machiavelli nodded, still frowning. "It seems he was making a map of the locations of the remaining Codex pages."

Ezio raised his eyebrows. That would be very useful. Altair spoke of the Apple in the Codex; it might lead to more clues.

Caterina, however, shrugged. "I never liked the goddamn son of a bitch anyway. He was a lousy father, boring in bed, and a pain in my ass," she said crassly, her polite face of nobility that so impressed the Papal courts completely gone.

Some of the guards behind them chuckled. It was clear to see that Caterina inspired great loyalty.

They finally came to the flatlands around the city and continued heading south; talking of the preparations Caterina was making to ensure that the Apple was secure in her city.

As they approached the small farms outskirting the city walls, however, Machiavelli pulled his horse to a stop.

"Look," he pointed at the score or so of villagers panicked and running down the roads.

"Oh no..." Caterina muttered, urging her horse forward to the throngs of people and reached down to grab a stumbling woman and steady her.

"Wait! What's happening?" Caterina demanded.

"They came as soon as you left the city walls, Signora," the woman replied, rubbing at the tears streaming down her cheeks. "The city is under attack."

"What?!" Caterina gasped. "By who?"

"The Orsi brothers, Signora," the woman replied.

Caterina let her go and started to swear vociferously. "God damn it!' she growled.

"Who are the Orsi?" Ezio asked.

"The same canagli I hired to kill my husband!" she growled.

Machiavelli's frown intensified. "It's the Spaniard of course. The Orsi have no world view bigger than their purse," he spat contemptuously.

Ezio shook his head. "But how could he know where we were taking the Apple - before we even knew?"

"Because they're not here for the Apple, Ezio," Machiavelli replied calmly. "They're after Riario's map."

"Stop with your map, Niccolo!" Caterina spat, "My children are inside! Oh, porco demonio!"

"Men!" Machiavelli snapped to the guards behind them. "We'll be heading into an unknown situation. Prepare yourselves!"

They gave cries of assent, the pikemen taking the lead with their long lances, and marched forward, Ezio, Caterina and Machiavelli taking the rear as they pushed carefully through the crowds, who stopped at seeing the Lady of Forli returning and seemed to become hopeful.

One small band of brigands in the reds of the Orsi bastards fighting the citadel were soon upon them, but Caterina shouted orders and backed them all up either with her horse or with her knife. It didn't take long to beat the small band and they were rushing to the city gates once again.

"They're already inside!" Caterina swore at the looming form of the closed gates. "Double-crossing bastards!"

"Is there another way into this place?" Ezio asked, eyes flickering along the battlements.

Caterina thought a moment, "Wait... Perhaps, yes!" she nodded. "There's an old tunnel under the western wall from the canal."

"Bene. I'll be right back."

Caterina turned to her men, but Machiavelli was already setting them up to be ready for attack, so instead, the noblewoman turned to the gates and proceeded to swear worse than a sailor at them, keeping all attention on her.

Ezio smiled and outright chuckled at some of her threats, particularly at roasting all of the men's balls and then forcing them down their own throats as he raced along the canal, hidden in the lengthening shadows of the afternoon.

He kept his eye on the walls, looking for the tunnel Caterina had mentioned. He almost remembered it from his brief time passing through with Leonardo, a gate for allowing ships in that was sealed shut with rust and age.

Ah! There it was!

Ezio dove into the water easily and swam across the canal and under the rusted iron, entering the city. No one noticed his arrival as Caterina's stationed forces were almost all locked in combat with the Orsi mercenaries. They would need the reinforcements Caterina had brought with her, and Ezio ducked through the fighters, sopping wet and heavy, but otherwise unnoticed as everyone around him was stuck in their own fight.

Still, Ezio wasn't beyond thinning the ranks of the Orsi men as he raced by. A hidden blade in the back of an Osi guard certainly evened the score, though Ezio strove to stay as invisible as possible. Eventually he simply took to the roofs as too many of Orsi's men were starting to notice him as he wasn't in the same green uniform of Caterina's men.

He made his way to the city wall and killed every red guard he came across until he was finally at the gate, where Caterina was still swearing a storm at the enemies who kept her locked out of her own city. Threats of castration and impaling poles up asses to support the lack of spine were among the more tame of her insults.

Ezio opened the gates, allowing Caterina and her reinforcements to enter, his shoulder reminding him it still wasn't fully healed as he rolled the wheel that opened the doors.

"Ezio! You did it!" she called up as she ran in. "Follow me!" she shouted, she and her men racing into the city.

From there the fighting was bloody. Caterina's reinforcements certainly turned the tide and as word spread that the Sforza had returned, more and more of her men rallied around her, making a near unstoppable wall that cut through the Orsi mercenaries. With Caterina calling the orders, they organized and took out the Orsi thoroughly, using their increasing numbers to eviscerate their enemies and indeed carrying through with some of the threats Caterina had called out. But aside from the reinforcements Caterina had brought with her, the men who came to her had been fighting all day and were exhausted.

Machiavelli disappeared briefly, coming back with a small squad of doctors who started to treat the wounded as they continued to retake the city from Orsi's men.

At last, they arrived at the Rocca di Ravaldino, Forli's fortress, Caterina banging on the doors. "Open the door! Open the door! Hurry!"

But from the buildings in front of the Rocca, more of Orsi's men poured out, clearly having expected where Caterina would come and setting up an attack.

"It's an ambush!" Machiavelli shouted as they turned to face fresh men in red.

Caterina was blocked from fighting, but her men were loyal and listened to every one of her orders while Machiavelli and Ezio took the lead of the fight. The doctors were brought back with Caterina, as were the injured, leaving a thick wall of green men who would defend their comrades and noblewoman.

Ezio, meanwhile, was starting to use his smoke bombs. They confused Orsi's men and gave both him and anyone else a chance to strike. It easily cut the ambushing forces in half, and those that stumbled out of the clouds were swiftly cut down.

Ezio was starting to ache, still not quite recovered from his fight with the Spaniard and now several long hours of constant running around and fighting - and swimming, his clothes were still damp and sticky, but he was determined.

For the briefest of moments, Ezio thought the Apple reached right into his mind and ask if he sought help, but Ezio ignored it and kept pushing through his fatigue.

The red-clad men eventually beat a retreat, and the gates behind Caterina opened.

"Ezio! Niccolo! In here! Now!" she shouted. "Get your chiappe asses in here! Into the citadel!"

Once inside with all her men, the gates closed behind them. More doctors came out to treat the wounded and Caterina quickly ordered for any food to be brought out so that the men could replenish some of their energy.

A maid came out, rushing to Caterina and surrounded by a small band of children.

"Signora!'

Caterina also rushed forward, Machiavelli taking her place and seeing to the men as she was reunited with her children.

"My babies!" she cried out, hugging them all chose and showering them with kisses. "But where are Bianca and Ottaviano?"

"Forgive me Signora," the maid begged, holding the baby close. "They were playing outside when the attack began... I don't know where they are..."

Caterina started swearing in earnest but was interrupted.

One of her guards from atop the citadel called down, "Reinforcements from the mountains! They are breaching the citadel!"

Caterina held her children close once more, squeezing each of them, before gesturing for the maid to send them inside. "Ezio," she growled, "don't let those bastardi get in here!"

Ezio nodded and Machiavelli shouted, "With me!"

Together they scaled up to the citadel walls. Caterina stayed below, shouting out orders about canons and preparing to repel invaders, get the injured inside with the doctors, and clear a supply line for arrows to get up to the archers on the citadel walls.

On the walls, Ezio and Machiavelli were fighting back any of the Orsi's men who made it up the walls, leaving Caterina's men free to let arrows fly over the canal to the attackers and canons to break up the lines and create chaos.

It was a long battle. Canons could not aim down to the water where small boats of men had set up ladders to scale the walls and the archers could not see everything. Ezio was almost in a constant state of looking with his inner eagle to spy where they were coming from next and alerting anyone so that they were prepared. Injured archers were quickly sent down and treated men were sent up to replace them, the sun well sunk below the horizon and the darkness of night obscuring any movements save what Ezio could see with his special sight.

It was well past midnight when the invasion was finally repelled. Sentries were posted and Caterina saw to it that every man was treated, fed, given wine, and otherwise taken care of.

Ezio allowed himself to steal some sleep in the shadows of the battlements, though he kept an ear open for anything, and as dawn rose, he went below to get something to eat other than the trail mix he had with him.

But with the dawn came new problems.

"Caterina! Caterina Sforza! I know you're in there!"

Caterina of course made her way up to the battlements, Ezio and Machiavelli close behind, as were a small contingent of archers and guards.

"Those bastardi think they can negotiate? Negotiate? We'll see about that," Caterina grumbled, the sun dazzling all of them as they exited the battlements into its light, but Caterina marched forward, making herself visible to the two men, obviously brothers, and their squad of guards. "What do you want?" she demanded, voice foul as her mood.

One of the brothers smiled. "I have something you may want back," he called up from the square. He shared a wry grin with his brother. "Are you missing any children?"

Caterina stiffened, stepping closer to the edge of the rampart, and Ezio came up behind her, casting a measured gaze down at the men below. The spokesmen spotted him at once.

"And Ezio Auditore...!" he called up. "What a pleasant surprise."

"... I take it you would be the Orsi brothers," he called down, glancing at Caterina. She was white with shock, struggling to get control of herself as her mind obviously raced through the possibilities of the Orsi brothers having her children.

Below, the two bowed graciously and introduced themselves. "Ludovico-" said the quiet one.

"-And Checco," said the spokesman. "At your service."

The polite greeting was met with a growl from the noble woman. "Enough!" she shouted. "Where are my children? Let them go!"

"Of course Signora," Ludovico said courteously, voice dripping with venom. "We'll happily give them back - for something of yours. A certain map?"

"And a certain Apple, brother," Checco added, perhaps the smarter of the two as he eyed Ezio, assuming his presence meant the Apple was there, too. Ezio cursed that it had become so obvious. The crowd around the Orsi murmured, several priests shook their heads, and a few citizens tried to hide themselves better.

"Sì," Ludovico said, nodding sagely. He looked up, eyeing Caterina directly. "A certain Apple indeed," he called up, "Or shall I slice your babies' necks ear to ear?" He emphasized the point by making a gesture along his neck, pantomiming the murder he had just threatened.

Ezio looked to Caterina, just in time to see her eyes widen in shock before it twisted into rage.

"Bastardi!" she cursed, indignant. "You think you can threaten me? I'll give you nothing! You want my children? Take them! I have the instrument to make more!" And she stepped up to the edge of the rampart and boldly lifted her dress, displaying her womanhood for all to see as proof of her spite.

The brothers shared an incredulous look with each other, clearly expecting a different reaction - Ezio, too, was still staring in shock - but quickly recovered.

"When you change your mind," the spokesman Checco shouted up, "they'll be in the village outside the city - You have one hour."

And they withdrew.

Caterina watched them go, shaking, and only when they were gone did her anger slip away, and she took a shaky breath, exhaling in a desperate sob. A hand reached up to cover her face, and she turned away, holding her stomach.

She... she was going to do it.

She was going to sacrifice two of her children so that Ezio could hold the Apple and the map here in safekeeping. Such a sacrifice... he couldn't allow it, he couldn't even ask of it - how could he, when he knew the loss of his own family? And children...

"Caterina," he said softly, touching her shoulder, listening to her sobs, "no... I can't ask you to sacrifice your children."

The hand covering her face disappeared, and watery eyes looked up to him in fierce determination.

"Nobody's sacrificing anything," she hissed. "Go get them back for me Ezio. Get them back and kill them."

Ezio nodded. "Sì, you have my word."

It was an enormous display of trust that this woman, so independent, so fiery, would trust the rescue of her children to him. Ezio returned the favor, pulling out the pouch and giving it to her. "The Apple needs to remain in the citadel. Keep this safe. There is an old assassin tomb here, in the guardhouse; only an assassin can get to it, have Machiavelli take it there."

"Whatever you wish," Caterina said. "But hurry, time is wasting."

Only an hour. Yes.

Ezio saw a beam with pigeons roosting on it, and a glance saw a hay cart below, and so he leapt off the battlements and down into the city, pulling himself out of the hay cart and making his way to the city gates. He followed the direction the Orsi brothers had departed, and asked his eagle for help to see where they had gone. He exited the north gate; there were many buildings outside the city, but most of them were concentrated in the north, and he quickly merged into the crowds there, listening to the citizens' murmurs about what a bad deed this was, wondering how their Lady would deal with the crisis.

Most of the buildings were nondescript, and the peasantry was as dull as the structures themselves. In point of fact, it made the presence of guards obvious, and the thick mass of them near a crossroad told Ezio everything he needed to know. He climbed to the roof of a one-story building, peaking his head around to see two guards on roofs, the clear center of troop concentration and the obvious place to guard a pair of children.

Hopping back down to the road, he circled around. The guards on the roof had to be dealt with first, but with two practically facing each other, how to do it? He ascended another building, at a different angle, and studied. If he could sneak up on one... yes, and then a throwing knife? He would have to be very quick. Ezio rolled his injured shoulder, testing its strength. The soreness would slow him down, but he felt he could be fast enough.

Taking a deep breath, he worked his way to the roof guard closest to him; one hand kept a firm grip on a throwing knife. A white shadow, he snuck up to the guard and stabbed him in the back, and as he grunted Ezio threw the knife at the opposite guard, catching him in the throat. Both fell almost simultaneously, and Ezio tensed, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble, but neither body fell to the ground, and no alarm was struck, and Ezio allowed himself a small sigh in relief before peaking his head out over the edge of the building.

"Is this all the men you have to hold me?" a young voice asked. "Fools. It won't be enough. My mamma is fierce. We Sforza women are no wilting flowers. We may look pretty to the eye, but the eyes deceive. Just ask Father. I hope you don't imagine I'm scared of you. You'd be sorely mistaken. My mamma would never let you hurt me."

Ezio smiled. Like mother, like daughter.

There were two guards flanking the young Bianca, one of them turned to tell the tiny girl to shut up. Ezio watched and waited, eying the patrols at the end of the lane, but none came near the girl, secure that she was well guarded. Ezio shook his head. Fools, indeed.

His two hidden blades extended, Ezio leapt into the air and let gravity do the rest, the metal plunging into the necks of the two guards and breaking his short fall.

"Grazie! Grazie Messere!" the girl said brightly. Ezio shushed her, eying the crossroad and readying his poison blade.

"Stay here a moment longer," he whispered, moving even before the child nodded. Slowly, Ezio crept forward and leaned against the corner of a building, eying the approaching patrol from under his hood. As they began to merge to the larger road, Ezio pushed himself off the building and casually bumped into one of the guards, stabbing him with his poison and walking away. He could hear the gurgle, and didn't watch as the others turned to see what the matter was. He had the distraction he needed, and backtracked to Bianca, grabbing her hand and helping her run around the houses before hitting the main road much father down.

"Where is your brother?" he asked, stopping only when he saw the green of the Forli guards at the gate beginning to mass.

"They are holding Ottaviano at the lighthouse," she said brightly, happy to be of help. "He's such a baby, he cried when they took us. I'm much better Messere, and I can tell you would make a fine husband! A prince to the rescue!"

"I am no prince, piccina," Ezio said, using Claudia's nickname. "Go to the gates, the guards will take care of you."

"I want you to take care of me, Messere. And when a Sforza woman wants something, she gets it."

Just like her mother indeed!

But Ezio had no time for her fantasy and ran off as soon as the guards came up. He grabbed the first horse he found, ignoring the curses and cries of "Horse thief!" and took off at a hard gallop south. There were several lighthouses spotted along Forli, but only one close enough to meet the hour deadline.

The lighthouse was an older structure, decaying from all the floods over the years, but still firm enough to do its purpose and guide ships up river to the city's nearby ports. He saw some barrels leading up to an outcrop of the structure, the mini-rampart manned by two guards. Nodding to himself, Ezio ran up the barrels, hooking his hands around the edge of the outcrop. One guard, oblivious to the hands in the early morning light, stood right above him, and Ezio had no trouble assassinating him from the ledge, swinging the body over his head and down below. The second guard heard the crash and came to investigate, giving Ezio a second target.

His shoulder throbbed from the unwanted exercise, he really wasn't fully healed for this, and he took a moment to breath once he hoisted himself up to the rampart.

Someone above must have heard the noise, and Ezio took a moment to recognize the voice of the quieter Orsi brother, Ludovico.

"You want to see your boy walk again, Caterina? Give us what we want or I'll throw him off the edge!"

"Mamma! Help me! I don't want to be here anymore!"

Growling to himself, Ezio scanned the lighthouse. Several beams were sticking out of the circular structure, set up for repair perhaps, and Ezio was quick to pull himself up to one - pulling at his bad shoulder, and jumping from one beam to the next.

"Shut up kid. Let's go Caterina! Show yourself! The Apple and the map or your kid's a cripple."

Ezio mentally swore that wouldn't happen, reaching the last pole he could find and finding he was high enough to reach up and grab the outcroppings of the tower. Ezio grunted at the strain on his shoulder and pulled himself up to the lighthouse proper. Two guards paced about it, and Ezio waited until both were past before checking where the shadows fell, and leaping up to the protective grating surrounding the fire, now banked with the morning light. The irons were still warm to the touch, but not hot, and Ezio easily made his way higher up, to the top of the tower where Lodovico Orsi and little Ottaviano were. The boy was complaining again.

"I have to pee. Please Messere. I need to go to the bathroom. Just let me go pee."

"For God's sake kid, shut the hell up. Caterina! Where are you, bitch?"

"Messere!"

Ludovico turned to growl at the boy again, and Ezio took his cue, pulling himself up and stabbing the Orsi in the back. Ludovico grunted as the assassin lowered him to the ground, but when he looked up he only smiled.

"Caterina was a fool to send you," he moaned, blood trickling out of his mouth.

Ezio shook his head. "Or are you the fool, dying for a handful of change? Was it worth it?"

He laughed. "More than you know... the Maestro gains his prize, because of me."

Borgia? How? Ezio shook his head, putting the worry aside as he could. The boy came first.

"Die with your pride, for all it's worth," he said, reaching up and closing the body's eyes. "Requiescat in pace."

"Grazie Signore!" Ottaviano said when Ezio cut the ropes, and without further ado the child pulled down his pants and, as he had pleaded, took a piss, sighing in relief. Ezio chuckled slightly before picking the body up and tossing it over the edge of the tower, the Orsi body signaling that there was no money to be made this day. After twenty minutes, the last of the guards had fled, and Ezio picked up the boy, carrying him down the tower while he was pestered and pestered and pestered with inane questions.

The horse he had ridden was shockingly still there, flicking an ear at the two in boredom, before Ezio mounted and backtracked to the northern gate, entering into the city to see a flood of Forli guards, and it wasn't long before Ottaviano was whisked away, and Ezio informed that Caterina needed to see him immediately.

Ezio made his way to the Rocco di Ravaldino, the people tentatively beginning to fill the streets again at the signs of quiet, but as he approached the bridge he saw Caterina, hands covered in blood, and Machiavelli, holding his bloody side, come dashing out of the fortress.

"What are you doing out here?" Ezio asked. Was the city safe now?

"I'm so sorry, Ezio," Caterina said, reaching out almost to touch him. "I'm so sorry."

"What happened?"

"It was a trick," Caterina explained, her voice tight. "To lower our defenses."

"As soon as you left, they attacked again. Checco Orsi, he caused a diversion at the gates while he hired a small band of thieves to sneak in from the city wall." He winced, clutching his side again. "He has the Apple!"

"What!?" Ezio shouted, his voice echoing off the square. All that work, a dozen years of searching to get the damnable thing and to not even lay claim to it for a week. Gone? There would be hell to pay! "No! Where is he?" he demanded, rich baritone rough with intent.

"We chased him out here," Machiavelli explained. "He's been gone for some hours, and we only just now realized it has been stolen. The bastard's escaped to the mountains, we know that much, and-"

That was all Ezio needed to hear. "I'm going!" he declared, turning on his heel and marching south. He remembered the road from his winter travels with Leonardo, all his backtracking and merging back and forth. He had a good idea which path Checco Orsi would take if he wanted to rush to his master. "Bring me a horse!" he ordered. "The fastest one you have!" The Orsi had several hours head start; he needed to close that distance swiftly.

A well-built black stallion was waiting for him at the southern gate, and Ezio took off at a gallop, heading southwest towards the Apennine Mountains. The steed sensed Ezio's anxiety, it made the beast flighty and skittish, but Ezio mastered the animal quickly and pushed him into a ground-eating rhythm. He kept low to the saddle, feeling his half cape flitter in the wind. For three hours he pushed the horse, slowing only when absolutely necessary, panting himself as he opened his eagle and searched left and right, praying to his father to find some fleck of gold, some intuition on which road to take. He was well up into the mountains now, the humid air thinning slightly.

The main highways were packed with people, thick traffic making for slow going. Ezio hoped that his target was slowed as well, as he finally gave in to impatience and yanked his horse off center of the road, riding several meters away before once more pushing the animal to a gallop. The uneven ground made the skittish horse uncertain of its footing, but Ezio reassured it as best he could, coaxing it to a faster gate as his head swiveled left and right.

He reached one of the few villages on the mountain road, talking to a stable boy and trading out for a fresh horse, as he took to the roads again, listening, looking, searching for anything that would tell him he was on the right trail, trying not to doubt himself, willing himself to stay calm. If Borgia got his hands on the Apple...!

At last, a fleck of gold, and Ezio's head snapped so far to his left he pulled the muscle connected to his bad shoulder. He winced, a hand instinctively going up to massage the abused muscle - his riding around for hours on end was certainly not helping - and saw the dark head and blue-grey of the Orsi. Ezio wasted no time with the recognition; he wheeled his horse around and kicked it to a fresh gallop.

Checco Orsi saw the pursuit, and did the same with his own horse.

It wasn't long before both were well off the road, climbing the forested mountains for purchase. Orsi's horse was nimbler, but Ezio's was fresher, and it was a trade off on who was catching up and who was pulling away. Checco shouted threats and abuses behind him, but they fell on deaf ears, all Ezio cared about was getting that damn artifact back and preventing Borgia from ever, ever getting it.

They burst onto a road again, surprising both of them but Ezio had the advantage here, and he pressed his horse into a full gallop, easily gaining ground on Orsi. Checco tried to pull into the mountains again, but Ezio had the ground he needed, and leapt off his horse, slamming his weight into Orsi and pulling him down to the ground. He angled the fall, making Checco take the brunt of it, and landed on top; they rolled a few times but Ezio came up the victor, knees straddling the bastard. Pain burst in his side from the scuffle, but he ignored it, utterly focused on his objective. A quick check of his pockets found the embroidered pouch, unharmed, and Ezio took it.

"So," Checco said, grinning faintly, "You have your prize again."

Ezio looked down upon his target. "Was it worth it?" he asked. "So much bloodshed?"

The Orsi brother laughed, weakly. "A prize of such value, it will not remain yours for long."

"... We shall see," Ezio answered, feeling heat emanating from his side but ignoring it again. He extended his hidden blade, sweating profusely, and sank it into Orsi's neck, so deep in protruded from the other side, and he twisted the blade to be certain, before pulling it out. Checco Orsi still had a smile on his face.

But now no one would know where the Apple was. He could return it to Forli, or find somewhere else to hide it.

"What wretched things are born of greed," he muttered, contemplating the body, the Orsi, and the bloody battle they had wrought. "Requiescat in pace."

The pain in his side finally entered his attention, and it exploded when he moved to get up. What had he hit to cause such pain?

But when he looked down, he saw not dented armor, but the hilt of a knife. When...? He looked down to Orsi. Bastard. No wonder he had been grinning. The blade was just below his armor, and angled upward. Deep, he could tell, it felt like his entire abdomen was burning - no wonder he was sweating.

His breath coming out in shorter and shorter gasps, he wrapped his fists around the hilt, and forced himself to take a deep breath, yanking the dagger out. Blood spurted out of the wound, his stomach was on fire, and his vision swam dangerously, making him reach out and prevent himself from collapsing. Why was the ground so soft? So squishy? He looked and took several moment to comprehend he was braced against a body. Who's body? Never mind, not important, he had to stop the bleeding.

Ezio reached behind him to grab his pack, and his shoulder erupted in pain, blurring his vision again, the muscles strained from all their work and complaining in tandem with his abdomen. He took a hot, shuddering breath and made himself work through the pain, asking the eagle in his mind for help as he drew on the intense focus of the bird, trying to will away the pain and reach for the pack he had been taught to carry. His grip was weak, he couldn't figure out how to unfasten the button, and his fingers were getting numb, unable to feel what he needed. He also realized he couldn't treat the wound until he took the armor off first. Idiot, Alfeo would have his hide for this.

Panting, he reached up to try and unfasten his armor, but doing so pulled at his stomach, and for a moment everything was white with agony, and he decided now might be a good time to get help.

He took another deep breath, drawing on his strength and willing himself to his feet. He staggered slightly, and looked around for the horses. If he could get on them...

The July sun seemed very bright, and that confused him, because when he looked up he saw it was very cloudy. Rain was coming in over the mountains. He had to get back to... to... where...?

Something pulsed in his hand, and he looked down, dimly confused. A pouch?

Yes, the Apple... he had to get it to safety... Where were the horses...?

Everything grayed out, and Ezio had the odd sensation of tipping backwards. He may have fainted for the fact that hitting the ground hurt everything, and he gasped, curling slightly around his abdomen, and watched numbly as the pouch rolled out of his hands.

He had to get it back. He had to get it somewhere safe. He had to...

Feet passed into his vision, pausing contemplatively over the pouch. A hand missing the little finger reached down. Did he mean to take...? Wait...

"Wait... Don't..." Ezio wasn't sure how loud his words were, his heartbeat sounded loud and erratic in his ears. His body was soaked in sweat and his breathing was hot and ragged. "Who are you?" he tried again. Black robes... Beads... A priest? A monk? Why was he so interested in the pouch, what about good Samaritans?

His vision started to swim, he could feel himself slipping away, but struggled to hold on. There were whispers in his head, protestations, anger, subjugation, eradication of sin. Power was pulsing from the pouch, the Apple had come active again, Ezio had to stop it.

"Stop... Don't open it..."

He looked up, tried to see the face, wondering if he could be heard. No one could use the Apple.

No one...

He had to stop...

He...

"It's your move, brother."

Chessboard. White versus black. He was black. His move.

... Huh?

He looked up, the motion difficult; he was exhausted. The boy across from him only smiled.

"... Petruccio?"

"There he is! I've found him! Over here!"

"It's your move, brother!"

"... What...?"

"Did you get the feathers?"

He blinked, looking back down at the board. His limbs felt like cast iron, it was a struggle to lift his hand up and move his knight, splitting Petruccio's bishop and rook. Was that the move he was supposed to make? The board was fuzzy, he couldn't be sure. "Feathers..." he mumbled, feeling warm.

"My God! Look at all the blood, what's happened to him?"

"Where's the Apple?"

Apple... that was important... He blinked again, lethargic, confused. He looked to Petruccio, but he only smiled at him.

"Yes, the feathers. Did you get them?"

"Yes... I've gotten many, many feathers." Fistfuls at a time. Eagle feathers, hawk feathers, pigeon feathers. All different shapes, all different sizes, all for a box that... that... "What are you going to do with all of them?"

"They're quills!" Petruccio said brightly. "For Mother! She writes so much, and goes through many quills. I needed to collect feathers, and then Federico was going to show me how to make a quill, and then I would give her enough quills to last the rest of her life, so she'd never have to worry about them again. For her birthday."

He stared at Petruccio, blinking slowly, his brain thick and foggy. Quills? When had she last written? She's been still for so long...

... Why was she so still?

Why was it so hard to think, to remember?

"It's your move, brother."

"Baby brother is feeling lazy, Petruccio, give him a minute."

He didn't want to move, it was too much work, but the voice made him try to swivel his head, to look past Petruccio.

"Hang on, Ezio, the doctor's almost here."

"I've never seen a fever like this, I don't know if he'll last."

"Hold your tongue before I cut it out! Ignore him, mio caro, you're going to be just fine, do you hear me? If you don't I'll kill you myself."

"Federico...?"

Twenty years old, bright faced, smiling brightly. Why wasn't that right? Why did he picture a solemn face, cool and closed off like it never was. With a rope...?

His heart tightened, his body tensed, and his breath quickened.

This wasn't right.

This wasn't right...

Where was he...?

He tried to back away, afraid, uncertain, and full of stones for all that he could move. He made a soft, hitched moan; everything was hot, the chessboard was gone, and he couldn't understand where he was. He looked around, but all he could make out was Petruccio and Federico, and that wasn't right, because... because...

He shook his head, faintly, weakly, and leaned back. "What's going on here?" he mumbled, his voice cracking.

"You were playing chess, baby brother," Federico said, "But I think maybe your mind isn't in the game. Walk with me."

And they were in the courtyard of the villa in Florence, walking out the gates and into the streets, packed with faceless people, noises dim and far away. It was still hot, his body ached, and everything seemed to move so slowly.

"What do you think?" Federico asked, pointing to a gaggle of girls. "Do any of them strike your fancy? You still need to practice, don't you? For the girl that will hold your heart after Cristina."

"... What...?"

"I'm still older than you, you know," Federico said brightly, warmly, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders. He felt like he was floating. "That means there are still a lot of things I haven't taught you."

He blinked, confused, everything felt fuzzy. He tried to ask a question. "Did you know about it? Any of it?"

Federico nodded. "I told you, didn't I? He told me on my twentieth birthday, and he would have done the same for you. Same for Claudia, too, and Petruccio."

"Then you knew...?"

"What was happening? No. I'd only just started training, baby brother; I was hardly ready for a conspiracy of that size. He explained it to me after, in the Signoria. It was a lot to take in, believe me. How did you take it, when you finally figured it all out?"

"I..."

"Get me more leeches. And more towels. And more wine. Damn it, hold the candle steady!"

Suddenly his stomach exploded in pain, and he clutched it, hissing and wondering what was happening.

"Easy, easy, baby brother."

And strong hands were holding his shoulders, and he leaned into the embrace. He hadn't been held like this in so long... it felt... it felt...

"My son, I am so proud of you."

"... Father..." He clutched the body in front of him, afraid to look up, afraid of what he would see. It felt so good, to have these achingly familiar strong arms wrapped around him. He felt secure, safe, warm and content; a child in his father's embrace, certain that everything was right with the world. A strong, calloused hand brought his head under his father's chin, and he could remember the scent: ink and paper and sweat, oil and metal, the unique scent of his precious, precious father.

"You have done more than I have ever imagined, Ezio."

"I... I tried, Father. I tried. I just wanted... Mother has stopped talking and... and Claudia tries so hard to be strong... I... I just wanted... I tried to..."

"Rest easy, son. It's all right."

"But, I kept letting them get away. Lorenzo, Il Magnifico, he almost died because of me, and Jacopo de' Pazzi, and Doge Mocenigo. There's been so much death over this; it's taken me so long... And now, I've lost..."

"No, Ezio, it's taken the time you need. Look at me."

He was afraid to, afraid what he would see, but Giovanni brooked no refusal, gently guiding him to look up.

And he saw a proud, smiling, face.

He wept.

"Father... Father...!"

"It's a miracle he's lasted this long. The night will be the deciding factor."

He pressed his face back into his father, unable to maintain eye contact. He cried, sobbed into that strong shoulder, as a child, clutching the embroidered coat, the linens, wrapping his arms around the neck, taking deep shuddering breaths, and he wept. And the strong arms held him, gentle, firm, loving, everything that he remembered, rocking back and forth slightly, and one hand rubbing his back.

"I love you, too, Ezio. My precious son."

"Father...! It's been so hard without you! I didn't know what to do!"

"But you did what you had to, my son, and you did it well. Exceedingly well. Don't ever tell yourself different."

"But...!"

"No buts, Ezio. You need to know that more than any questions you have of me: you have done well. And you will continue to do well, even with regards to the Piece of Eden. You will find it, or it will find you, when the time is right."

And all he could feel was relief...

"Now, wake up."

Author's Notes: Oh, look, the DLC, the Battle of Forli. Which of course we cannibalized for our own purposes. And some of you may have remembered us mentioning a fever dream, oh, several chapters ago...

Okay, yeah. Caterina aside (because her arc obviously isn't done yet), we thought this DLC was the perfect place to put in a scene like this. Belying the fact that Ezio passes out clean shaven and waked up with a beard and freakishly pale, it made sense that he probably had a near death experience of some kind, and we really wanted some kind of affirmation of his work. Weary though he gets by ACR, he never doubts what he does or why he does it, only whether it will end. Given his words in Venice before he faces Borgia about what it was all for, we both figured something like this had to happen, and the DLC was too perfect for it. It's one thing to feel good about being an assassin when he was inducted, it's another entirely to finally feel pride in his work. His family haunts him for the rest of his life, it has to pop up somewhere.

And now that the DLC has begun, so, too, has the ten year timeskip. Let the whining begin. Very roughly, it's split into two chapters(ish), five years apiece. Next chapter (obviously) wraps up the Forli DLC and covers the first five years of the gap. Our beta thought the pacing was more than fine, and we hope that you all enjoy it as well.

Also, enjoy the end of the world today!

Next chapter: Caterina Sforza, and reuniting with his family. Ezio might be in for a shock...