Brotherhood: The Recruits [19a/?]
Brotherhood: The Recruits
Author: name-me-regret
AN: The title of the last chapter was not translated, but it means Human Trafficking. It would have given away too much, which is the reason it was left without a translation. This chapter was written ahead in my little notebook lol, but it was hard to get it typed up with everything getting in the way. Surprisingly enough, the muses were fighting to get this chapter out, so they were a big help. They seemed to really get into the chapter, but it feels a bit rushed due to the time skips. Well, like @jarpad’s tweet said “Baby’s got her running shoes on.” lol, too bad that line was cut. Onward!
Chapter Nineteen: Two Thieves in the Night
1498
It was difficult for Vittorio to stop himself from busting out in laughter, because at the moment Elio resembled little more than a drowned cat. “So, uh what exactly...heh... happened?” Vittorio was proud that he managed to bite back his snort of laughter at the end. Although, judging by unimpressed look on Elio’s face, he hadn’t been successful.
Messere Mario had given the novice thief his first assignment. There was word that there was a thief stealing within Campagna District, and Elio had been sent to investigate but under no circumstances was he to engage him. The reason was that Mario was suspicious and wanted to make sure it wasn’t the Cento Occhi. Alejandro was on his own assignment and Vittorio couldn’t go for obvious reasons. Also, if it was the Cento Occhi then it was possible that Carlo was involved and Vittorio didn’t want to meet with him. He wasn’t ready yet. Vittorio had hoped that the man would have been killed by now, but he didn’t have that kind of luck and he’d have been the first to be informed.
“It wasn’t the Cento Occhi,” Elio said with a sigh as he wrung the water out of his hat. “I was in the Campagna, and saw a man swiping money pouches. When I tried to follow him he evaded me, and I tried to keep up as best as I could. Then when I was passing one of the aqueducts I felt someone shove me into the well.” He quickly shook his hair like a dog as the water from the wet strands flew everywhere. Vittorio knew his habits and had hid behind the towel that he’d had in his hands for Elio. “There was a second accomplice and he’s the one that was most likely finding him targets. It was a boy around my age, or maybe younger. He jeered and taunted me as he crouched on the edge, and only left when the older man came to drag him off. They’re probably a father and son duo, and by the time I managed to get out of the well, they were long gone.”
Vittorio nodded with a smirk as the scarred skin of his face bunched slightly as he did so. “Did you report in with Messere Mario yet?” he inquired. The nineteen year old had become associated with the Thieves’ Guild for these long five years, but had never really joined them. It was mostly because his loyalty was limited to Elio and Alejandro, and their father by default. So, none of the other thieves felt comfortable working with him without knowing whether he was going to cover their back or not. Vittorio would, of course, defend or protect any of them in a combat situation, but they didn’t know that. The young man liked their little trio the way it was, and didn’t want anything or anyone to disrupt that.
When Elio shook his head, Vittorio threw the towel in his face as he stood from where he’d been sitting. “You should go tell him. He’s probably waiting for you.” Elio cursed at him as he yanked the towel off, only for Vittorio to flick his forehead. It was a habit he’d picked up from Alejandro, and it annoyed him to no end whenever either of them treated him like a child. He was fifteen for Cristo’s sake, and as a novice thief he was being given his first missions. The missions consisted mostly of training the children so they could become novices one day themselves, and easy information and reconnaissance missions, but they were important to him. So, to fail due to that other boy whose name he didn’t even know was infuriating.
“Let me know what your papa says,” Vittorio told him, snapping Elio out of his fuming. The nineteen year old was well trained, since his brother had taken him under his wing regardless of the other thieves’ protests. Elio could understand why they were upset, since he accompanied Alejandro on his mission despite the fact that he hadn’t pledged his loyalty and he wasn’t born into the Thieves’ Guild. It was the reason that the others refused to go on any mission that Vittorio went on, and didn’t even speak to the young man. Vittorio took being an outcast in stride, and even seemed to prefer things the way they were.
The only thing that severely bothered him was if anyone stared at his face for too long, or commented on his scars. He’d gotten into several fistfights over the years with the novice thieves as a result, and won every one. It was another reason for them to loath him, but as always, Vittorio thrived from it. Elio knew that the only two things that scared him were meeting with Carlo once more, and Elio or Alejandro in danger. He would have teased him about it, but Elio wouldn’t be so cruel, since he knew the tragic ways in which he’d lost all his family. At times, he wondered if he treated the other thieves with disdain so they wouldn’t get close. That way he wouldn’t let them into his heart as he had accidentally done with the Petaccia brothers. Elio wondered if letting anyone else in was another of his fears.
Elio was vigorously drying his hair when the door opened, and through the tousled strands of his still damp hair, he saw that it was his father. “You were supposed to come see me as soon as you got back.” As Elio stood there looking cowed, Mario jerked his head at the door, and Vittorio gave him a two finger salute before leaving. To anyone that saw them, it appeared as if Vittorio had no respect for Mario Petaccia, but it was quite the opposite. Vittorio had a lot of respect for the man, or else he’d have simply ignored him just now. He was also the only one he listened to and obeyed, since he argued that Alejandro was only six years older and it wasn’t enough of an age difference for Alejandro to be his elder. Elio suspected that he did it merely to annoy his older brother.
If one looked at how his lean muscled body could move as smoothly as water running through your fingers, and it wouldn’t be possible to think that he’d been severely injured a few years ago. However, the dottore had said that there was no permanent damage, and Vittorio only complained on very cold winter nights. As for his face, he’d started to wear a strip of cloth so only his eyes were visible, and also so he wouldn’t be spotted by the guards. The artist that had done the wanted poster of Vittorio with his scar was very accurate, and Elio would have been impressed if it didn’t mean that his friend was in danger. Of course, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think that after five years Carlo would have given up his search for Vittorio. However, the young man had assured Elio after he made that statement, that only death would free him from Carlo’s vengeance. Elio had been worried when he didn’t clarify whose death; Carlo’s or Vittorio’s. “That man doesn’t understand what forgiveness is,” Vittorio had told Elio with such graveness in his voice that it had scared him. It was almost as if he’d come to terms with the fact that he would one day have to face Carlo, and one of them would die. Vittorio just didn’t know who it was going to be.
“Are you listening to me?” He was snapped out of his thoughts by his father’s voice. The man sighed at seeing the confusion on his face. “I said to get changed before you catch pneumonia.” It was already spring but the nights were still cold, and it was already past mid-day.
As he left to do as Mario instructed, he figured it was best that Elio hadn’t heard what he had really said. Mario had been thinking out loud on the duo that Elio had encountered, and by his son’s descriptions he knew who they were. At least he thought he may know the older man, but he wasn’t sure due to the names they were known by, Robyn and Yeoman. Elio had described him as man that was in his forties and a boy that was most likely younger than Elio. They appeared to be working in tandem with another, and the kid was the spotter while the man did the stealing. It was a good system, since the spotter, usually located on the roof, could also see when the guards were too close, or if anyone had taken notice of the man. It also meant that the spotter was less likely to get caught if they avoided being seen by the archers.
The Thieves’ Guild had no problem with lone thieves as long as they weren’t preying on the already poor people of Roma. So far, it seemed that they stole from the guards that harassed or stole from the poor people of Roma. While they were too busy counting the money they’d stolen, they wouldn’t see their money pouches being stolen, and it usually contained more than what they’d taken. They would then give it to the victims and disappear without even waiting to be thanked. They also seemed to steal from corrupt officials, and anyone that openly flaunted their lavish attire in front of those suffering under the Borgia guards.
The man knew they’d make a good addition to their ranks due to their excellent thieving skills and their strong sense of justice, but he doubted they would join. He suspected that the older man that went by the name Robyn was actually a man named Ciro, who had been a lone thief for many years. Mario wasn’t sure because of the boy, since the Ciro he’d known all his life would never have accepted a partner, and both his children were dead.
Mario would send a more skilled thief next time to track the duo and discover if it was the same man or not. He would go himself since he already knew his face, but he had other responsibilities that he just couldn’t abandon. Now that he thought about it, Mario needed to leave now since it was almost dusk and he and La Volpe had to ride for Monteriggioni. Alejandro was on a mission on the other side of Roma and would not return in two more days, and there were few options before he would have to leave. So, as he left the small house his son’s shared with Vittorio, he decided something he may regret later due to the ear full he’d get from the other Master Thieves. However, if La Volpe hadn’t said anything to him about training and sending Vittorio on missions, then Mario wouldn’t worry too much over the others.
Besides, he knew that the young man needed to be ready, because one day he would have to return to his childhood home. It was essential they returned with someone that was familiar with the house, and the Master Thief was certain that Vittorio wouldn’t forget the house he’d spent fourteen years of his life.
~o~
Vittorio’s entire body stiffened as he heard the howl of a wolf nearby, and ducked down as low to the ground as possible so the piece of wall would hide the top of his head. The clank of armor and heavy footsteps was the only thing heard as the patrol passed his hiding spot. When that sound had faded away, he straightened and flashed a look to the nearby rooftop where he’d just jumped from, and where Elio had slinked into the shadows.
They had moving steadily over the rooftops on their way to where Elio had first seen the lone thief and his spotter. As Vittorio had jumped down, he’d immediately heard Elio’s warning, and now the other joined him since it was clear. Vittorio nudged him so he could go ahead because he wasn’t the one in danger of being seen and subsequently captured by the guards. Both of them continued that way until reaching their destination where Campagna met Centro, and the fifteen year old even showed Vittorio the well he’d been thrown into.
Vittorio knew that the man would not return here after his encounter with Elio, but he had to be somewhere in Campagna District. They spent most of the morning and well into late afternoon looking through the whole district, but always making sure that it was Vittorio out in the open in case Elio was spotted again. The nineteen year old was seen once by a patrol, but he had lost them in the nearby market and soon after they abandoned that area. Next time, Vittorio made sure to take to the rooftops, but they were on opposite sides of the streets since two people huddled together looked suspicious.
They used simple hand signs to communicate such look, quiet, listen, danger, and stop. Also, the animal noises were for when they weren’t within sight of each other. The wolf howl was for approaching guards, the eagle’s cry if one of them had spotted their target or anything else worth investigating, a cat’s mewl if there was a potential enemy near, and a dog’s bark if danger was close.
As Vittorio was returning from buying something to eat along with a canteen filled with water from the aqueduct, he suddenly heard the cry of an eagle. He could never mistake Elio’s signal with the real thing, since he’d heard it enough times to know the difference. So, he immediately scanned the crowd for their target, because the signal meant he was close to Vittorio’s position. As he was discreetly looking at everyone in the crowd, he heard Elio’s cat call closer than the eagle one. It meant that the fifteen year old was moving toward him, and the older male hoped he wasn’t spotted by their target.
Vittorio saw the thief before he saw Vittorio, and noticed that it was the youth instead of the older man. The kid was good as he deftly stole with quick hands, and while a civilian wouldn’t notice, a guard would see him right away. From what Mario had told him yesterday, the father and son worked as a very effective team with one as the spotter while the other stole. However, he’d gotten the impression that the son was the spotter, and if they’d switched than those experienced eyes would see him coming before he got close enough, if he hadn’t seen him already. There had been no warning given, and Vittorio was probably being dismissed as another face in the crowd since he didn’t have his mask on because it had gotten too hot to have it on. It was also possible that papa hadn’t seen him yet to sound the alarm. Either way, he couldn’t just stand still and wait for the boy to come to him, so he steadily moved in his direction. He slowly pulled his mask up now, since the scarring on his face might scare the kid before he even got the chance to speak.
The young man kept his eyes discreetly looking at the rooftops in hopes of spotting the older man, and all the while he was getting closer to the pickpocket. When he was just ten feet away from the slender boy, a shrill whistle cut through the cacophony of the afternoon day, and the boy’s head snapped up. Their eyes locked in that instant, and as quick as a fox he darted away. It pained Vittorio to waste food, so he shoved the items in one of the beggar’s hands that he’d been passing and sprinted after the boy. Yeoman was annoying quick on his feet, but Vittorio prided himself on his speed. It was one of the main things he had obsessed about in the past five years. Along with his swordsmanship, he had been determined to be the best, because it was only a matter of time before he found himself face to face with Carlo. It was certain that one of both would die when that time came to pass.
So, this boy’s speed was no match for Vittorio as he tackled him into a pile of hay. After all, he didn’t want to hurt him, since his mission was more of a diplomatic one. Of course, some would argue that Vittorio couldn’t offer these two an invitation to join, when he himself hadn’t joined the Thieves’ Guild. Vittorio would counter that as a non-member, he was unbiased, and having not taken the Oath was not swayed to omit the truth even if it put the Guild in a questionable light.
“Porca Bastardo! Get off me!” He was startled by the too high voice that couldn’t possibly belong to a fifteen year old who was already past puberty. Also, Vittorio was impressed by the inventive curses coming from him, and had to admit that not even he could come up with such creative insults. “Are you deaf or just stupid, non pene?! I said get off me!” It seemed apparent that he could not shove off Vittorio’s more muscular body from on top of him where he was straddling his waist. He could not be Elio’s age as the fifteen year old had thought. The boy had to be at least twelve with such a high pitched voice. Also, Vittorio was perturbed at how pretty the other was, and there was no other word to describe him.
Vittorio frowned at the racket he was making, and gave him a swift jab in the stomach as the other was cut off mid-rant as he whimpered in pain. It wouldn’t injure him, and only knock the air out of him so he’d shut up for a second. “Just listen for a minute,” he snapped, voice muffled by his mask. “Yeoman” - -as Mario had named him- - wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, and meanwhile Vittorio got off him and dragged him further into the alleyway. Vittorio was sure “Robyn” wouldn’t be too far behind Yeoman, and wanted to talk with him without daddy’s interference.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, and I won’t turn you into the guards. I’ve actually come to offer you an invitation-”
Yeoman turned back suddenly as he snapped his hand forward, and Vittorio’s own hands snatched the throwing knives out of the air. The younger male appeared shocked for a moment before he was on his feet as he pulled a dagger out of a sheath hidden in a sash at his waist, and rushed him. Vittorio merely sighed in exasperation as he only dodged every swipe of the dagger in Yeoman’s right hand, and the occasional punch or kick.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to attack someone, and especially such a young boy.” His words did nothing to quell his anger, and if anything his attacks only increased in intensity. “Have you ever killed a person? Don’t ever do it because then you don’t wait for God to do justice for you,” he grunted as he jumped away, “you take justice into your own hands.” Yeoman wasn’t listening to him, and it annoyed Vittorio to no end.
However, his annoyance turned into real anger as Yeoman got past his defenses, and his dagger cut into the sleeve of his shirt and drew blood. Vittorio went on the offensive, and it was over in a few seconds as he used the knives he still had in his hands and disarmed Yeoman. Then he kicked him into the wall, and quickly used his own daggers to pin the sleeves of his coat to the wall behind him.
As Yeoman struggled to dislodge the knives, Vittorio pushed back his disheveled hair out of his eyes and tried to catch his breath. “Now will you listen to me?” he demanded angrily. Although, he was so incensed that he contemplated leaving Yeoman for the guards to find. However, the whiz of projectiles interrupted his thoughts and had to dodge several knives, and one could only be attacked so many times before he countered with the intent to kill. He threw his own throwing knives to where the attack had come and was rewarded for his effort as he saw Robyn jump away from the line of fire and into Vittorio’s sights.
“Leave us in peace, bandito,” the older man warned. He was clearly armed and Vittorio was wary, and hoped he chose to listen instead of fighting. “We want no involvement in your nefarious group. If you do not leave us be, then I will be forced to kill you.” Vittorio didn’t doubt that the man would follow through with his threat, but the fact that he had just done it gave the impression that he was reluctant. He glanced at Yeoman who was watching them with rapt attention, and knew the reason. It would pain Robyn to kill another in front of his son, but would do it to save his life. Despite the fact that Robyn had attacked him, he was a man that Vittorio could respect. The Thieves’ Guild needed men like Robyn.
“I didn’t come here to fight.” Yeoman snorted sardonically behind him, and Vittorio flashed a smirk in Yeoman’s direction. “Well, you wouldn’t be pinned to the wall if you hadn’t attacked me first.” The boy glared at him as he opened his mouth, but Vittorio cut him off with a grin. “And you were making enough noise to attract the guards’ attention, and I had to shut you up somehow. Besides, I doubt I hit you hard enough for it to hurt, so suck it up, bambino.” If Yeoman hadn’t been pinned to the wall then Vittorio was sure he’d have lunged at him again.
Vittorio ignored Yeoman’s muttered curses as he looked at Robyn, who hadn’t removed his hand from the hilt of his dagger. Clearly he would listen to what Vittorio wanted to say, but was no gullible fool. “I’m not part of the Cento Occhi,” he started off, but Robyn looked skeptical. “I was sent by Mario Petaccia.” That seemed to get a reaction out of him as his eyes widened minutely and he looked to be trying to say something. “He sent me to ask that you join the Thieves’ Guild, and that although he made you the same offer long ago, you refused him. Messere Mario strongly urges you to accept now.”
Vittorio’s voice lacked the pleading note that Mario’s had when he’d told him to convey these words. He didn’t know who this man was to Mario, but the emotion he’d glimpsed in his eyes was of fear and desperation. “The Borgia has made Roma a very dangerous place, and he begs that you join and surround yourself and the boy with allies.” Vittorio had slightly altered the last sentence, but the look on Mario’s face had filled Vittorio with the desire to convince Robyn. However, Robyn didn’t even look to be considering the offer as he shook his head. “Why?” Vittorio wanted to know what to say to the man.
Robyn looked pained for a moment before his features returned to a neutral expression. “He knows the reasons, and what will happen if I do return. There’s nothing left to say anymore.” The man jumped down, and Vittorio didn’t try to stop him as he freed Yeoman. Both men turned away to move toward the end of the alleyway.
“What about Yeoman? Will you not let the boy make his own decision?” He was getting a bit desperate now, and it was something he never would have done just a few years ago.
Yeoman whirled around to shout something at him, but Robyn silenced him with an outstretched hand. He didn’t even bother to turn around as he answered. “I lost too much already, and I won’t sacrifice Yeoman as well. Just leave us be.” Vittorio found he could say no more when the other man sounded so defeated. “Farewell, and safety and peace.” Robyn moved off while Yeoman looked after him in confusion. When he’d disappeared around the corner, he turned to glare at Vittorio.
In turn, Vittorio grinned mockingly, since he knew that having dodged every attack, and then disarmed him so easily was burning a hole in Yeoman’s gut. “You upset that I beat you, bambino?” he taunted. Yeoman’s hand moved to his dagger but didn’t pull it out. “Meet me here in three days, and I’ll give you a rematch.” Vittorio’s grin stretched further across his face hidden under his mask. “Just make sure daddy’s not there to hold your hand.”
Before Yeoman could answer or attack him, they both heard Robyn’s shrill whistle two times, and it was followed shortly by the howl of a wolf. They both went for the same hay stack since they didn’t know where the patrol was coming from, and it was the only thing close enough to hide. So, there was no time to argue as Yeoman dived in along with Vittorio. Yeoman grunted as Vittorio’s bulkier body landed on top of him, and Vittorio hissed softly in pain as he slammed his elbow into the ground. They froze as they heard the approaching patrol just seconds after they’d disappeared from sight. There had been no time to adjust their positions and Yeoman could scarcely breathe with Vittorio’s heavier form crushing his, and his arms were both on either side of his head where he’d tried to brace himself. Vittorio, on the other hand, was rather uncomfortable, since Yeoman’s knee was pressed into his crotch and he was very aware of every shift he made.
When the patrol had passed, Vittorio felt Yeoman shove him as he simultaneously tried to scramble back to prevent that knee from rubbing against him again. Vittorio immediately turned away as he pretended to brush away the hay that clung to his clothes.
“In three days,” Yeoman growled huskily as he used his forearm to shield his flushed face. The other had been closer than anyone had ever been, and didn’t quite know what else to say.
Vittorio didn’t notice his embarrassment because he was still turned away trying to hide his own humiliating problem. “Bene,” he answered a bit breathlessly, pushing the heel of his hand into the bulge in his pants. Yeoman had given him an erection. He was so mortified that he stormed out of the alleyway, and didn’t care if Elio was following him or not.
Elio was confused as he tried to keep up with Vittorio, but he was moving as if the hounds of hell were biting at his heels. He didn’t stop until he’d reached the safe-house, but Vittorio noticed that Alejandro hadn’t returned. The twenty-five year old was the one that Vittorio reported to whenever Mario was unavailable, but with him also unavailable so he turned and marched out the door and warned Elio not to follow him. It quickly became apparent why he’d warned him as the brothel Vittorio usually frequented came into view.
The blonde haired, blue eyed whore he always went with was furious as he ignored her. Instead he chose a small breasted, slender, dark haired courtesan with black eyes and pale skin that looked to bruise easily, and if she slightly resembled Yeoman, nobody had to know.
~o~
Annetta lifted a hand as her slender digits caught hold of a velvety petal, smoothing the pads of her fingers along the soft surface. As she did that, her head tilted back to watch the rain of petals against the backdrop of a clear blue sky that was almost painful to look at. The sun was at her back and it was nearing late morning while she sat on that bench. Her mind wondered to the things that made up the life she had lead up to this point.
Ciro was the main person that had given her a purpose and a way to live. At one point, she saw him take the money he had stolen with expert hands from a passing guard, and then turn around to hand it to the same people it’d been stolen from. This image stayed in her mind for so long, it became her way of life. Her father had been a fan of English folklore and often told her stories of Robyn Hode, which was a heroic outlaw that was a highly skilled archer and swordsman. While there was no mention of him giving stolen money to poor or people mistreated by corrupt officials, for Annetta it was something that he seemed capable of doing for being a hero.
So, Ciro became her Robyn Hode and she wanted to be just like him. As a result, the thief, Ciro had to endure the nickname “Robyn”, but he didn’t particularly mind and took it in stride, calling her “Yeoman”, since the ballads and stories depicted this Robyn Hode as a yeoman. Then without realizing it they became known as Robyn and Yeoman by those that knew them, and with it was that Annetta was a young boy and not the young woman she was gradually becoming. It was convenient for them, since that meant that Annetta wasn’t bothered because they thought she was a boy. They became a team and a family, and they helped people that were suffering.
It was days like that which kept her from losing all hope in Roma as it suffered under Borgia control. These acts of benevolence from a lowly thief made her think that perhaps one day, even men of power could be just as compassionate. She honestly believed this to be the case as she sat on the bench in the Piazza della Rotond, and watched pink flower petals dance in the wind. This happened every third day of the week, and she had come to expect it and made sure she sat there as dawn crested the horizon so the water in the fountain sparkled. It had been the most beautiful morning and the only fixed thing in her life at this point in time.
There were several petals already sprinkling her hair, which was pulled into a braid and pinned to the top of her head, and usually covered by a hat that was sitting on the bench beside her at the moment. A cart filled with those very petals was a few feet away from her, and which a street sweeper had gathered in an attempt to clean the paved piazza, but it was in vain. For every petal he picked up, five more would fall. It was likely frustrating for him as his work increased, but Annetta could only think that it was the most magnificent sight.
Annetta always tried to be here to watch the petals, but that meant getting up before dawn came so she could be sitting in the same bench from where she had first seen this sight all those years ago. Even if it had been no more than five years from that night, it had seemed like a lifetime had passed. At times she would look back to the girl she had been and saw a stranger, and while she mourned for her lost innocence, perhaps it was better this way. That girl would never have been able to survive out here.
She stiffened as she saw a figure appear at the other side of the piazza, and immediately left her seat but was discreet about it. There wasn’t a good sized crowd to hide within, but there was enough to keep her from being recognized in an instant. So, by the time the bandit might have been close enough to spot her, she had completely disappeared from sight. The only thing left behind was the hat sitting on the bench which she had forgotten to grab before leaving. However, she made sure to quickly steal one. Afterwards, Annetta made sure to head straight home as she used the already growing crowd to her advantage. She was sure that the man hadn’t been looking for her, but one could never be too careful with the Cento Occhi.
By the time she returned to their home, it was almost noon and Ciro glanced disapprovingly at her. Annetta grinned sheepishly at him to which he sighed in fond exasperation before returning to sharpening his dagger. “Don’t you have a date today?” he asked with a smirk.
Annetta flushed hotly at his words as her mouth opened and closed several times indignantly. “I-it’s n-not a date, Ciro!” she sputtered. The man stopped what he was doing to look at his surrogate daughter with a raised eyebrow. Annetta’s lips twisted irritably before turning away and hurrying out of the door followed by Ciro’s amused laughter.
~o~
It was difficult to remember the exact place where he’d met Robyn and Yeoman, since he’d chased after the youth without keeping track of the direction he had taken. So, imagine his surprise when he saw that slender figure next to that same alleyway he had pinned him in. Vittorio thought he had sufficiently sated his lust three days later, but seeing Yeoman again made his cock stir to life once more. By that point he’d stopped caring that it was wrong, and just wanted to throw the boy down on that same pile of hay and make him howl in pleasure. However, he resisted because he had no idea how Yeoman would react, and he really didn’t want to add rape to his wanted posters. So, he would wait to see how this particular encounter would pan out before he acted on his impulses.
As Vittorio was battling with his desire to ravage the other, Yeoman, or rather, Annetta was trying her hardest not to blush at seeing the other thief. Ciro’s earlier words wouldn’t leave her mind, and she was getting flustered at remembering Vittorio’s larger body covering hers. Also, she could have sworn she had felt the man harden against her knee, but couldn’t be too sure. However, just the thought of it was getting her a little hot under the collar. Especially at the hungry look she saw in his eyes now. Annetta felt her insides quiver in anticipation.
“W-well, what are you waiting for?” she called, her voice shaking. She didn’t know exactly what she was asking for, but she knew what he wanted. Annetta wondered if he suspected she was a girl, or if he was attracted to her because he truly believed she was a boy. Well, she was about to find out as he stalked toward her.
Vittorio’s mouth stretched back into a grin underneath his mask at Annetta’s words, and quickly moved in her direction. He grabbed the smaller figure, pushing her back into the shadows of the alleyway. When he was sure his face wouldn’t be seen he yanked his mask down and crushed his mouth to hers. Annetta immediately grabbed onto him and kissed back passionately, and Vittorio was glad he hadn’t read her wrong.
His hands first pulled off her hat, finding the hair pinned up and pushed the fingers into the strands to dislodge the pins so it cascaded almost down to her waist. Vittorio shoved the coat back and pulled the shirt open with more force than he intended, ripping it a bit but Annetta only hissed angrily against his mouth and continued to kiss him. When his fingers felt the bindings keeping Annetta’s breasts flattened, he reeled back in shock and left Annetta panting against the wall feeling hurt and confused.
“You’re a woman?” he asked incredulously. His body and the top of his head were partially lighted by the dying sunlight, and Annetta could make out the top of a hideous scar just under his left caramel eye. It didn’t stop the persistent throbbing in her nether region that had started as soon as he’d touched her. However, she was worried that the fact that she was a woman would turn him off.
Annetta lifted shaking hands to pull the shirt closed. “Yes, so tough luck if you were expecting a man,” she spat, but her bravado was a cover for the humiliation of rejection.
Vittorio realized that his actions had been misinterpreted and surged forward. “No, no, of course not,” he reassured, large hands coming to cup her face. He could just make out her now obviously female face in the dim light, and he now knew that pretty hadn’t been enough to describe her before. The girl was gorgeous. “I was freaking out before.” He leaned down to kiss her again and was relieved when she only hesitated for an instant. “Grazie a Dio you’re a woman!” Vittorio growled against her mouth. He pulled her shirt open again and released her breasts from the restricting material.
Annetta moaned as her nipple was pinched by his fingers, arching up against the leg pressed between her thighs. It was getting so hot and she felt a desperate urgency to get touched where it was incessantly throbbing. She fumbled for his hand and pushed it to her own crotch. Vittorio pulled his hand free and shoved it down her pants and found her already wet. “Dio,” he gasped, crooking his fingers up into her. Annetta yelped in shock at the unfamiliar feeling of something inside of her. Vittorio paused at her reaction. “A-are you-?”
“Hey! What are you doing over there?!” Vittorio’s and Annetta’s heads snapped toward the mouth of the alleyway and the four guards that were quickly approaching. Vittorio’s hand snapped out automatically and a throwing knife embedded in one of the guards’ leg. Annetta’s own projectile wasn’t too far behind. However, hers was a smoke bomb that landed at their feet, stopping them as they started coughing on the smoke. Both the thieves darted out of the alleyway, and were aware that the other three members of the patrol that could still walk were chasing them.
As they ran, Vittorio turned to look at Annetta as her long black hair whipped behind her, and her recovered hat clasped in her hand. There was a huge smile on her face as if she were having the time of her life running from the guards. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” he challenged and she flashed him an excited grin.
“Are you sure you can keep up with me?” she jeered right back. The young man had pulled up his mask once more so she couldn’t see his expression, but his caramel eyes were filled with amusement. As they led the guards on a good chase, they stuck together because, after all, they had unfinished business after they outran these bastardi. Every time she looked over at Vittorio she would see that same hungry look again. As soon as they lost their tail, then a private rendezvous was in order, and she didn’t care if it happened in the stables. By that point, anywhere was good even if it meant almost getting caught by guards again, and if she was really honest, the prospect excited her a little.
~o~
“I’m Annetta. W-what’s your name?” she asked breathlessly. She was lying on the hay next to Vittorio’s naked body afterwards, and wished she had a blanket. The stable wasn’t the most romantic place to have lost her virginity in, but after outrunning the guards the thieves had snuck in there to hide until they gave up the search. Even before they were safe, Vittorio couldn’t keep his hands to himself as he had fondled her against the wall they were hiding behind. She had hissed at him to stop or they would be caught, but nothing she said dissuaded him and pretty soon she was silently praying that they’d go away.
Vittorio paused momentarily as he always did when he was trying to decide if he could trust someone with his name. Nobody in the Thieves’ Guild knew the young man as being anything else beside the fake name he had been given. Vittorio didn’t trust anyone beside Elio, Alejandro, and Mario with his name; La Volpe not included because he’d never met the man. So, he couldn’t simply give this girl his name as freely as she had obviously given hers. He didn’t know her, and didn’t trust her.
He turned his body around so he was looking at her face, and saw her staring up at him earnestly. It was obvious she had been a virgin, because when he’d pushed into her she had cried in pain and clung fiercely to him. He was sure there would be blood, and he felt guilty that he had let his lust control him so he’d taken her on a pile of dirty hay. Annetta is what she said her name was, and he found it fitting for her. It was a beautiful name for a beautiful girl and he wished he could feel more than lust when he looked at her, but he didn’t.
“Piero,” he lied, the practiced smile coming easily to his face. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Annetta’s, and noticed that there was a lighter shade of black around her pupil. “It’s dangerous to remain here. We should go.”
The young woman deflated in disappointment. “Oh, yes, we should.” They dressed in silence, and when Vittorio turned to leave Annetta had not yet pinned her hair up so it swayed around her as she whipped around. “Will I see you again?” She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt.
He glanced back at her and once more gave her that plastic smile that was meant to reassure her, but for some reason it filled her with sadness. “Of course you will. Just come back here every fourth day of the week, and I’ll be here.” Vittorio reached out to finger a strand of her vibrant black hair before he let it drop, and walked out of the stable.
When he’d gone she looked around at the stable and wondered if he had meant here. Annetta rushed over to the door with the intention to see him leave, but when she got there he was nowhere to be seen. She fell against the frame of the gate as her fingers wound the strands of her dark mane between the digits. It had started out as such a wonderful, passionate day, and had ended leaving her cold and abandoned. A few minutes later, she walked out of the stable with her hair pinned under her hat, and the persona of Yeoman firmly in place. When Ciro asked her why she was limping, she explained it away as an injury she’d gotten from the spare with “Piero”.
Annetta wondered if that was even his real name.
~o~
1500
She prowled along the rooftops as her sharp, black eyes observed the people walking down below on the streets. It was her job to spot the bait and then Ciro would do the stealing. They’d had a good day thus far since she had managed to spot three big purses, and he’d moved in, gotten the money and moved on without too much trouble. Now, she was looking for a fourth so they could call it a day and go home. Home, the concept was foreign to her, since that place had been seized by the Borgia along with all her family’s earthly possessions. Now, there were only temporary places where they rested during the nights, and it was a wonder that they had stayed where they were this long.
As she was choosing her next target, Annetta could admit that her mind started to wander elsewhere. To be more specific, her mind was on that night’s meeting with Piero. It was the fourth day of the week.
Piero.
That was the name he had given her when he’d taken her virginity, and for two years she hadn’t asked him what his real name was, since she knew that Piero wasn’t his name. It was only because a man named Alejandro had accidentally stumbled into Vittorio as he had arrived to the stables. He had made it seem as if he was on his way back from a mission, and Annetta had been eavesdropping behind the door. She had overheard Alejandro call him ‘Vittorio’.
Two years had passed since then, and she still didn’t know what to call their casual involvement. Or rather, Vittorio wouldn’t let her call it a romance, or even a relationship. He called it an ‘arrangement’ or their ‘situation’, but never anything else. Annetta knew what it was to her after two years, and what had at first been just a fling had turned into something so deep that Vittorio’s indifference was a knife to her heart. Annetta was pretty sure she loved him, and it killed her that Vittorio didn’t feel the same way.
She couldn’t blame anyone but herself, since she’d let him sweep her into it knowing that all he wanted was to satisfy his lust. Annetta also knew that she wasn’t the only one, because she had seen him visit a brothel once or twice. The young woman could smell their cheap perfume on his clothes whenever they would meet up. Even knowing this hurtful information, she continued to let him use her, and as they were having sex she pretended it was because he loved her. That the filthy words he whispered in her words were endearments.
Annetta was thus distracted as she chose the next target. It was two men astride two fine looking horses, and one had black robes and the other was in white, whose features were obscured by a hood. Annetta figured they would be too distracted by their conversation to notice the theft. As she made a cooing sound reminiscent of a pigeon and signaled the target, she failed to notice the sword at his side, and that his hooded appearance made him appear mysterious, but dangerous.
Annetta inexplicably held her breath as Ciro weaved through the crowd with expert ease, finally breaking away and passing at a run to the slowly trotting horse. He snatched the man’s coin pouch and darted away, intending to disappear within the crowd. She was just about to turn away when the whine of a horse caught her attention. Her eyes darted back to the two men and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the hooded figure chasing down Ciro on the horse. The young girl experienced a moment of panic and dashed across the rooftops, trying to keep up with what was happening down below. If Ciro was hurt, then she’d never forgive herself for having been too distracted to notice that he was a threat.
A small cry of dismay escaped her throat when the white clad stranger leapt from on top of the horse and landed heavily on the thief. Annetta got off the roof with such urgency that it was a wonder she didn’t fall and break her neck. However, as soon as she hit the ground, Ciro was at her side and led her off without a word. She tried to say something, apologize for her mistake, and ask what had happened with the man, but he shushed her and Annetta obediently kept quiet. They took several detours and changed directions so many times that she lost track of where they were. Annetta had never seen Ciro this paranoid before, and she didn’t understand why this incident had been so significant. They had been caught in the act before and had to flee. The way the man had chased him down to recover the money and then simply let him go was very odd, but not enough to bring about this level of paranoia.
“Ciro, what’s happening?” she demanded as soon as they were inside their safe house. Instead of answering, the man started to run around and gather all their belongings. Annetta was stunned, since the last time they moved had been when a guard had followed her too close to their base for Ciro’s comfort, and they’d moved here. That had been almost three years ago. Although Annetta had started to think of this as her home, she didn’t question the man and started packing what they needed, but left what would slow them down. They were gone in five minutes.
It was ten minutes later that another man stepped through the threshold and stopped there to look around. He was clad in black robes and had dark hair chopped close to his scalp. It was obvious to him that both were long gone, and from here he had no idea where to start looking. Although La Volpe had told him of it, the sudden appearance of the lone thief had shocked him.
He had wanted to go after him, but chasing after him instead of sending Ezio would have looked strange. So, he had encouraged the man to chase after the thief while he had followed, and he had hoped that perhaps he would do the job for him. However, he had not expected Ezio to let him go, and Ciro had fled with Yeoman before he could intercept him. Although he had chased him, it was obvious that Ciro had not been idle all these years as he’d managed to lose his tail three times. By the time he had managed to find his trail, Ciro and the boy had enough time to get to the safe house, take what they could and flee.
The man knew that both of Ciro’s children had been killed, so he wondered of the identity of this street urchin simply known as ‘Yeoman’. If only Ciro had accepted his brother’s invitation to join the Thieves’ Guild, and then he would have had the man’s location. At the moment the Guild may be scattered and a bit unstable, but they had their hands full with trying to deal with the Cento Occhi. However, it had always been a strong ally to the Assassin Brotherhood dating back almost to the Crusades, and what’s more; La Volpe was a member of the Order himself.
Although, right now all three factions were estranged with the Order because he had been trying to aid Ezio in his quest to recover the apple, and in the process he had failed to offer them aid when they most needed it. Now, it seemed that he may have to get Ezio’s help to restore the unspoken treaty they had with the Order. Ezio was not very good at accepting orders, so he’d have to manipulate the situation to where it was Ezio that brought up the idea as if it were his own.
As for Ciro, well, it was obvious that the man was reluctant to leave Roma if he was here after all these years, so he would definitely find him again. It was then that Niccolo Machiavelli and Ciro Petaccia would meet face to face once more, and Niccolo would have justice for his fallen brothers. After all, Ciro had betrayed the Order out of vengeance over his family’s deaths, but that information he had given the Templars had gotten two Assassins killed.
So, he would find him and kill him, and when he was finished making it look like suicide, Niccolo would take the boy and make him his own novice. He would whisper this in Ciro’s ear as he lay dying, and enjoy the look on the man’s face knowing that his boy would be a member of the same Order that had cost his family their lives; the Order he had betrayed.
~o~
As they settled down for the night in their new safe house in Centro, Annetta sat on the roof hidden by the shadow of the rooftop garden as the curtain billowed in the authmn breeze. She was leaning against the structure as she stared up at the millions of stars overhead. Annetta’s mind wandered to the hated stables and wondered if Vittorio was there now and if he would care whether she returned or not. She doubted he would. He had told her once that he preferred to have no attachments, and she had no doubt that he would easily find someone else to replace her with. The thought broke her heart and a lonely tear ran down her cheek, which she angrily wiped away. Annetta refused to shed any tears for him, because he wasn’t worth it.
Only, he really was worth it, but she had already allowed him to trample on her pride enough times. So, even if it meant tearing away a chuck of her heart, she wouldn’t go tonight.
Annetta wouldn’t return ever again.
Part II
Author: name-me-regret
AN: The title of the last chapter was not translated, but it means Human Trafficking. It would have given away too much, which is the reason it was left without a translation. This chapter was written ahead in my little notebook lol, but it was hard to get it typed up with everything getting in the way. Surprisingly enough, the muses were fighting to get this chapter out, so they were a big help. They seemed to really get into the chapter, but it feels a bit rushed due to the time skips. Well, like @jarpad’s tweet said “Baby’s got her running shoes on.” lol, too bad that line was cut. Onward!
Chapter Nineteen: Two Thieves in the Night
1498
It was difficult for Vittorio to stop himself from busting out in laughter, because at the moment Elio resembled little more than a drowned cat. “So, uh what exactly...heh... happened?” Vittorio was proud that he managed to bite back his snort of laughter at the end. Although, judging by unimpressed look on Elio’s face, he hadn’t been successful.
Messere Mario had given the novice thief his first assignment. There was word that there was a thief stealing within Campagna District, and Elio had been sent to investigate but under no circumstances was he to engage him. The reason was that Mario was suspicious and wanted to make sure it wasn’t the Cento Occhi. Alejandro was on his own assignment and Vittorio couldn’t go for obvious reasons. Also, if it was the Cento Occhi then it was possible that Carlo was involved and Vittorio didn’t want to meet with him. He wasn’t ready yet. Vittorio had hoped that the man would have been killed by now, but he didn’t have that kind of luck and he’d have been the first to be informed.
“It wasn’t the Cento Occhi,” Elio said with a sigh as he wrung the water out of his hat. “I was in the Campagna, and saw a man swiping money pouches. When I tried to follow him he evaded me, and I tried to keep up as best as I could. Then when I was passing one of the aqueducts I felt someone shove me into the well.” He quickly shook his hair like a dog as the water from the wet strands flew everywhere. Vittorio knew his habits and had hid behind the towel that he’d had in his hands for Elio. “There was a second accomplice and he’s the one that was most likely finding him targets. It was a boy around my age, or maybe younger. He jeered and taunted me as he crouched on the edge, and only left when the older man came to drag him off. They’re probably a father and son duo, and by the time I managed to get out of the well, they were long gone.”
Vittorio nodded with a smirk as the scarred skin of his face bunched slightly as he did so. “Did you report in with Messere Mario yet?” he inquired. The nineteen year old had become associated with the Thieves’ Guild for these long five years, but had never really joined them. It was mostly because his loyalty was limited to Elio and Alejandro, and their father by default. So, none of the other thieves felt comfortable working with him without knowing whether he was going to cover their back or not. Vittorio would, of course, defend or protect any of them in a combat situation, but they didn’t know that. The young man liked their little trio the way it was, and didn’t want anything or anyone to disrupt that.
When Elio shook his head, Vittorio threw the towel in his face as he stood from where he’d been sitting. “You should go tell him. He’s probably waiting for you.” Elio cursed at him as he yanked the towel off, only for Vittorio to flick his forehead. It was a habit he’d picked up from Alejandro, and it annoyed him to no end whenever either of them treated him like a child. He was fifteen for Cristo’s sake, and as a novice thief he was being given his first missions. The missions consisted mostly of training the children so they could become novices one day themselves, and easy information and reconnaissance missions, but they were important to him. So, to fail due to that other boy whose name he didn’t even know was infuriating.
“Let me know what your papa says,” Vittorio told him, snapping Elio out of his fuming. The nineteen year old was well trained, since his brother had taken him under his wing regardless of the other thieves’ protests. Elio could understand why they were upset, since he accompanied Alejandro on his mission despite the fact that he hadn’t pledged his loyalty and he wasn’t born into the Thieves’ Guild. It was the reason that the others refused to go on any mission that Vittorio went on, and didn’t even speak to the young man. Vittorio took being an outcast in stride, and even seemed to prefer things the way they were.
The only thing that severely bothered him was if anyone stared at his face for too long, or commented on his scars. He’d gotten into several fistfights over the years with the novice thieves as a result, and won every one. It was another reason for them to loath him, but as always, Vittorio thrived from it. Elio knew that the only two things that scared him were meeting with Carlo once more, and Elio or Alejandro in danger. He would have teased him about it, but Elio wouldn’t be so cruel, since he knew the tragic ways in which he’d lost all his family. At times, he wondered if he treated the other thieves with disdain so they wouldn’t get close. That way he wouldn’t let them into his heart as he had accidentally done with the Petaccia brothers. Elio wondered if letting anyone else in was another of his fears.
Elio was vigorously drying his hair when the door opened, and through the tousled strands of his still damp hair, he saw that it was his father. “You were supposed to come see me as soon as you got back.” As Elio stood there looking cowed, Mario jerked his head at the door, and Vittorio gave him a two finger salute before leaving. To anyone that saw them, it appeared as if Vittorio had no respect for Mario Petaccia, but it was quite the opposite. Vittorio had a lot of respect for the man, or else he’d have simply ignored him just now. He was also the only one he listened to and obeyed, since he argued that Alejandro was only six years older and it wasn’t enough of an age difference for Alejandro to be his elder. Elio suspected that he did it merely to annoy his older brother.
If one looked at how his lean muscled body could move as smoothly as water running through your fingers, and it wouldn’t be possible to think that he’d been severely injured a few years ago. However, the dottore had said that there was no permanent damage, and Vittorio only complained on very cold winter nights. As for his face, he’d started to wear a strip of cloth so only his eyes were visible, and also so he wouldn’t be spotted by the guards. The artist that had done the wanted poster of Vittorio with his scar was very accurate, and Elio would have been impressed if it didn’t mean that his friend was in danger. Of course, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think that after five years Carlo would have given up his search for Vittorio. However, the young man had assured Elio after he made that statement, that only death would free him from Carlo’s vengeance. Elio had been worried when he didn’t clarify whose death; Carlo’s or Vittorio’s. “That man doesn’t understand what forgiveness is,” Vittorio had told Elio with such graveness in his voice that it had scared him. It was almost as if he’d come to terms with the fact that he would one day have to face Carlo, and one of them would die. Vittorio just didn’t know who it was going to be.
“Are you listening to me?” He was snapped out of his thoughts by his father’s voice. The man sighed at seeing the confusion on his face. “I said to get changed before you catch pneumonia.” It was already spring but the nights were still cold, and it was already past mid-day.
As he left to do as Mario instructed, he figured it was best that Elio hadn’t heard what he had really said. Mario had been thinking out loud on the duo that Elio had encountered, and by his son’s descriptions he knew who they were. At least he thought he may know the older man, but he wasn’t sure due to the names they were known by, Robyn and Yeoman. Elio had described him as man that was in his forties and a boy that was most likely younger than Elio. They appeared to be working in tandem with another, and the kid was the spotter while the man did the stealing. It was a good system, since the spotter, usually located on the roof, could also see when the guards were too close, or if anyone had taken notice of the man. It also meant that the spotter was less likely to get caught if they avoided being seen by the archers.
The Thieves’ Guild had no problem with lone thieves as long as they weren’t preying on the already poor people of Roma. So far, it seemed that they stole from the guards that harassed or stole from the poor people of Roma. While they were too busy counting the money they’d stolen, they wouldn’t see their money pouches being stolen, and it usually contained more than what they’d taken. They would then give it to the victims and disappear without even waiting to be thanked. They also seemed to steal from corrupt officials, and anyone that openly flaunted their lavish attire in front of those suffering under the Borgia guards.
The man knew they’d make a good addition to their ranks due to their excellent thieving skills and their strong sense of justice, but he doubted they would join. He suspected that the older man that went by the name Robyn was actually a man named Ciro, who had been a lone thief for many years. Mario wasn’t sure because of the boy, since the Ciro he’d known all his life would never have accepted a partner, and both his children were dead.
Mario would send a more skilled thief next time to track the duo and discover if it was the same man or not. He would go himself since he already knew his face, but he had other responsibilities that he just couldn’t abandon. Now that he thought about it, Mario needed to leave now since it was almost dusk and he and La Volpe had to ride for Monteriggioni. Alejandro was on a mission on the other side of Roma and would not return in two more days, and there were few options before he would have to leave. So, as he left the small house his son’s shared with Vittorio, he decided something he may regret later due to the ear full he’d get from the other Master Thieves. However, if La Volpe hadn’t said anything to him about training and sending Vittorio on missions, then Mario wouldn’t worry too much over the others.
Besides, he knew that the young man needed to be ready, because one day he would have to return to his childhood home. It was essential they returned with someone that was familiar with the house, and the Master Thief was certain that Vittorio wouldn’t forget the house he’d spent fourteen years of his life.
~o~
Vittorio’s entire body stiffened as he heard the howl of a wolf nearby, and ducked down as low to the ground as possible so the piece of wall would hide the top of his head. The clank of armor and heavy footsteps was the only thing heard as the patrol passed his hiding spot. When that sound had faded away, he straightened and flashed a look to the nearby rooftop where he’d just jumped from, and where Elio had slinked into the shadows.
They had moving steadily over the rooftops on their way to where Elio had first seen the lone thief and his spotter. As Vittorio had jumped down, he’d immediately heard Elio’s warning, and now the other joined him since it was clear. Vittorio nudged him so he could go ahead because he wasn’t the one in danger of being seen and subsequently captured by the guards. Both of them continued that way until reaching their destination where Campagna met Centro, and the fifteen year old even showed Vittorio the well he’d been thrown into.
Vittorio knew that the man would not return here after his encounter with Elio, but he had to be somewhere in Campagna District. They spent most of the morning and well into late afternoon looking through the whole district, but always making sure that it was Vittorio out in the open in case Elio was spotted again. The nineteen year old was seen once by a patrol, but he had lost them in the nearby market and soon after they abandoned that area. Next time, Vittorio made sure to take to the rooftops, but they were on opposite sides of the streets since two people huddled together looked suspicious.
They used simple hand signs to communicate such look, quiet, listen, danger, and stop. Also, the animal noises were for when they weren’t within sight of each other. The wolf howl was for approaching guards, the eagle’s cry if one of them had spotted their target or anything else worth investigating, a cat’s mewl if there was a potential enemy near, and a dog’s bark if danger was close.
As Vittorio was returning from buying something to eat along with a canteen filled with water from the aqueduct, he suddenly heard the cry of an eagle. He could never mistake Elio’s signal with the real thing, since he’d heard it enough times to know the difference. So, he immediately scanned the crowd for their target, because the signal meant he was close to Vittorio’s position. As he was discreetly looking at everyone in the crowd, he heard Elio’s cat call closer than the eagle one. It meant that the fifteen year old was moving toward him, and the older male hoped he wasn’t spotted by their target.
Vittorio saw the thief before he saw Vittorio, and noticed that it was the youth instead of the older man. The kid was good as he deftly stole with quick hands, and while a civilian wouldn’t notice, a guard would see him right away. From what Mario had told him yesterday, the father and son worked as a very effective team with one as the spotter while the other stole. However, he’d gotten the impression that the son was the spotter, and if they’d switched than those experienced eyes would see him coming before he got close enough, if he hadn’t seen him already. There had been no warning given, and Vittorio was probably being dismissed as another face in the crowd since he didn’t have his mask on because it had gotten too hot to have it on. It was also possible that papa hadn’t seen him yet to sound the alarm. Either way, he couldn’t just stand still and wait for the boy to come to him, so he steadily moved in his direction. He slowly pulled his mask up now, since the scarring on his face might scare the kid before he even got the chance to speak.
The young man kept his eyes discreetly looking at the rooftops in hopes of spotting the older man, and all the while he was getting closer to the pickpocket. When he was just ten feet away from the slender boy, a shrill whistle cut through the cacophony of the afternoon day, and the boy’s head snapped up. Their eyes locked in that instant, and as quick as a fox he darted away. It pained Vittorio to waste food, so he shoved the items in one of the beggar’s hands that he’d been passing and sprinted after the boy. Yeoman was annoying quick on his feet, but Vittorio prided himself on his speed. It was one of the main things he had obsessed about in the past five years. Along with his swordsmanship, he had been determined to be the best, because it was only a matter of time before he found himself face to face with Carlo. It was certain that one of both would die when that time came to pass.
So, this boy’s speed was no match for Vittorio as he tackled him into a pile of hay. After all, he didn’t want to hurt him, since his mission was more of a diplomatic one. Of course, some would argue that Vittorio couldn’t offer these two an invitation to join, when he himself hadn’t joined the Thieves’ Guild. Vittorio would counter that as a non-member, he was unbiased, and having not taken the Oath was not swayed to omit the truth even if it put the Guild in a questionable light.
“Porca Bastardo! Get off me!” He was startled by the too high voice that couldn’t possibly belong to a fifteen year old who was already past puberty. Also, Vittorio was impressed by the inventive curses coming from him, and had to admit that not even he could come up with such creative insults. “Are you deaf or just stupid, non pene?! I said get off me!” It seemed apparent that he could not shove off Vittorio’s more muscular body from on top of him where he was straddling his waist. He could not be Elio’s age as the fifteen year old had thought. The boy had to be at least twelve with such a high pitched voice. Also, Vittorio was perturbed at how pretty the other was, and there was no other word to describe him.
Vittorio frowned at the racket he was making, and gave him a swift jab in the stomach as the other was cut off mid-rant as he whimpered in pain. It wouldn’t injure him, and only knock the air out of him so he’d shut up for a second. “Just listen for a minute,” he snapped, voice muffled by his mask. “Yeoman” - -as Mario had named him- - wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, and meanwhile Vittorio got off him and dragged him further into the alleyway. Vittorio was sure “Robyn” wouldn’t be too far behind Yeoman, and wanted to talk with him without daddy’s interference.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, and I won’t turn you into the guards. I’ve actually come to offer you an invitation-”
Yeoman turned back suddenly as he snapped his hand forward, and Vittorio’s own hands snatched the throwing knives out of the air. The younger male appeared shocked for a moment before he was on his feet as he pulled a dagger out of a sheath hidden in a sash at his waist, and rushed him. Vittorio merely sighed in exasperation as he only dodged every swipe of the dagger in Yeoman’s right hand, and the occasional punch or kick.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to attack someone, and especially such a young boy.” His words did nothing to quell his anger, and if anything his attacks only increased in intensity. “Have you ever killed a person? Don’t ever do it because then you don’t wait for God to do justice for you,” he grunted as he jumped away, “you take justice into your own hands.” Yeoman wasn’t listening to him, and it annoyed Vittorio to no end.
However, his annoyance turned into real anger as Yeoman got past his defenses, and his dagger cut into the sleeve of his shirt and drew blood. Vittorio went on the offensive, and it was over in a few seconds as he used the knives he still had in his hands and disarmed Yeoman. Then he kicked him into the wall, and quickly used his own daggers to pin the sleeves of his coat to the wall behind him.
As Yeoman struggled to dislodge the knives, Vittorio pushed back his disheveled hair out of his eyes and tried to catch his breath. “Now will you listen to me?” he demanded angrily. Although, he was so incensed that he contemplated leaving Yeoman for the guards to find. However, the whiz of projectiles interrupted his thoughts and had to dodge several knives, and one could only be attacked so many times before he countered with the intent to kill. He threw his own throwing knives to where the attack had come and was rewarded for his effort as he saw Robyn jump away from the line of fire and into Vittorio’s sights.
“Leave us in peace, bandito,” the older man warned. He was clearly armed and Vittorio was wary, and hoped he chose to listen instead of fighting. “We want no involvement in your nefarious group. If you do not leave us be, then I will be forced to kill you.” Vittorio didn’t doubt that the man would follow through with his threat, but the fact that he had just done it gave the impression that he was reluctant. He glanced at Yeoman who was watching them with rapt attention, and knew the reason. It would pain Robyn to kill another in front of his son, but would do it to save his life. Despite the fact that Robyn had attacked him, he was a man that Vittorio could respect. The Thieves’ Guild needed men like Robyn.
“I didn’t come here to fight.” Yeoman snorted sardonically behind him, and Vittorio flashed a smirk in Yeoman’s direction. “Well, you wouldn’t be pinned to the wall if you hadn’t attacked me first.” The boy glared at him as he opened his mouth, but Vittorio cut him off with a grin. “And you were making enough noise to attract the guards’ attention, and I had to shut you up somehow. Besides, I doubt I hit you hard enough for it to hurt, so suck it up, bambino.” If Yeoman hadn’t been pinned to the wall then Vittorio was sure he’d have lunged at him again.
Vittorio ignored Yeoman’s muttered curses as he looked at Robyn, who hadn’t removed his hand from the hilt of his dagger. Clearly he would listen to what Vittorio wanted to say, but was no gullible fool. “I’m not part of the Cento Occhi,” he started off, but Robyn looked skeptical. “I was sent by Mario Petaccia.” That seemed to get a reaction out of him as his eyes widened minutely and he looked to be trying to say something. “He sent me to ask that you join the Thieves’ Guild, and that although he made you the same offer long ago, you refused him. Messere Mario strongly urges you to accept now.”
Vittorio’s voice lacked the pleading note that Mario’s had when he’d told him to convey these words. He didn’t know who this man was to Mario, but the emotion he’d glimpsed in his eyes was of fear and desperation. “The Borgia has made Roma a very dangerous place, and he begs that you join and surround yourself and the boy with allies.” Vittorio had slightly altered the last sentence, but the look on Mario’s face had filled Vittorio with the desire to convince Robyn. However, Robyn didn’t even look to be considering the offer as he shook his head. “Why?” Vittorio wanted to know what to say to the man.
Robyn looked pained for a moment before his features returned to a neutral expression. “He knows the reasons, and what will happen if I do return. There’s nothing left to say anymore.” The man jumped down, and Vittorio didn’t try to stop him as he freed Yeoman. Both men turned away to move toward the end of the alleyway.
“What about Yeoman? Will you not let the boy make his own decision?” He was getting a bit desperate now, and it was something he never would have done just a few years ago.
Yeoman whirled around to shout something at him, but Robyn silenced him with an outstretched hand. He didn’t even bother to turn around as he answered. “I lost too much already, and I won’t sacrifice Yeoman as well. Just leave us be.” Vittorio found he could say no more when the other man sounded so defeated. “Farewell, and safety and peace.” Robyn moved off while Yeoman looked after him in confusion. When he’d disappeared around the corner, he turned to glare at Vittorio.
In turn, Vittorio grinned mockingly, since he knew that having dodged every attack, and then disarmed him so easily was burning a hole in Yeoman’s gut. “You upset that I beat you, bambino?” he taunted. Yeoman’s hand moved to his dagger but didn’t pull it out. “Meet me here in three days, and I’ll give you a rematch.” Vittorio’s grin stretched further across his face hidden under his mask. “Just make sure daddy’s not there to hold your hand.”
Before Yeoman could answer or attack him, they both heard Robyn’s shrill whistle two times, and it was followed shortly by the howl of a wolf. They both went for the same hay stack since they didn’t know where the patrol was coming from, and it was the only thing close enough to hide. So, there was no time to argue as Yeoman dived in along with Vittorio. Yeoman grunted as Vittorio’s bulkier body landed on top of him, and Vittorio hissed softly in pain as he slammed his elbow into the ground. They froze as they heard the approaching patrol just seconds after they’d disappeared from sight. There had been no time to adjust their positions and Yeoman could scarcely breathe with Vittorio’s heavier form crushing his, and his arms were both on either side of his head where he’d tried to brace himself. Vittorio, on the other hand, was rather uncomfortable, since Yeoman’s knee was pressed into his crotch and he was very aware of every shift he made.
When the patrol had passed, Vittorio felt Yeoman shove him as he simultaneously tried to scramble back to prevent that knee from rubbing against him again. Vittorio immediately turned away as he pretended to brush away the hay that clung to his clothes.
“In three days,” Yeoman growled huskily as he used his forearm to shield his flushed face. The other had been closer than anyone had ever been, and didn’t quite know what else to say.
Vittorio didn’t notice his embarrassment because he was still turned away trying to hide his own humiliating problem. “Bene,” he answered a bit breathlessly, pushing the heel of his hand into the bulge in his pants. Yeoman had given him an erection. He was so mortified that he stormed out of the alleyway, and didn’t care if Elio was following him or not.
Elio was confused as he tried to keep up with Vittorio, but he was moving as if the hounds of hell were biting at his heels. He didn’t stop until he’d reached the safe-house, but Vittorio noticed that Alejandro hadn’t returned. The twenty-five year old was the one that Vittorio reported to whenever Mario was unavailable, but with him also unavailable so he turned and marched out the door and warned Elio not to follow him. It quickly became apparent why he’d warned him as the brothel Vittorio usually frequented came into view.
The blonde haired, blue eyed whore he always went with was furious as he ignored her. Instead he chose a small breasted, slender, dark haired courtesan with black eyes and pale skin that looked to bruise easily, and if she slightly resembled Yeoman, nobody had to know.
~o~
Annetta lifted a hand as her slender digits caught hold of a velvety petal, smoothing the pads of her fingers along the soft surface. As she did that, her head tilted back to watch the rain of petals against the backdrop of a clear blue sky that was almost painful to look at. The sun was at her back and it was nearing late morning while she sat on that bench. Her mind wondered to the things that made up the life she had lead up to this point.
Ciro was the main person that had given her a purpose and a way to live. At one point, she saw him take the money he had stolen with expert hands from a passing guard, and then turn around to hand it to the same people it’d been stolen from. This image stayed in her mind for so long, it became her way of life. Her father had been a fan of English folklore and often told her stories of Robyn Hode, which was a heroic outlaw that was a highly skilled archer and swordsman. While there was no mention of him giving stolen money to poor or people mistreated by corrupt officials, for Annetta it was something that he seemed capable of doing for being a hero.
So, Ciro became her Robyn Hode and she wanted to be just like him. As a result, the thief, Ciro had to endure the nickname “Robyn”, but he didn’t particularly mind and took it in stride, calling her “Yeoman”, since the ballads and stories depicted this Robyn Hode as a yeoman. Then without realizing it they became known as Robyn and Yeoman by those that knew them, and with it was that Annetta was a young boy and not the young woman she was gradually becoming. It was convenient for them, since that meant that Annetta wasn’t bothered because they thought she was a boy. They became a team and a family, and they helped people that were suffering.
It was days like that which kept her from losing all hope in Roma as it suffered under Borgia control. These acts of benevolence from a lowly thief made her think that perhaps one day, even men of power could be just as compassionate. She honestly believed this to be the case as she sat on the bench in the Piazza della Rotond, and watched pink flower petals dance in the wind. This happened every third day of the week, and she had come to expect it and made sure she sat there as dawn crested the horizon so the water in the fountain sparkled. It had been the most beautiful morning and the only fixed thing in her life at this point in time.
There were several petals already sprinkling her hair, which was pulled into a braid and pinned to the top of her head, and usually covered by a hat that was sitting on the bench beside her at the moment. A cart filled with those very petals was a few feet away from her, and which a street sweeper had gathered in an attempt to clean the paved piazza, but it was in vain. For every petal he picked up, five more would fall. It was likely frustrating for him as his work increased, but Annetta could only think that it was the most magnificent sight.
Annetta always tried to be here to watch the petals, but that meant getting up before dawn came so she could be sitting in the same bench from where she had first seen this sight all those years ago. Even if it had been no more than five years from that night, it had seemed like a lifetime had passed. At times she would look back to the girl she had been and saw a stranger, and while she mourned for her lost innocence, perhaps it was better this way. That girl would never have been able to survive out here.
She stiffened as she saw a figure appear at the other side of the piazza, and immediately left her seat but was discreet about it. There wasn’t a good sized crowd to hide within, but there was enough to keep her from being recognized in an instant. So, by the time the bandit might have been close enough to spot her, she had completely disappeared from sight. The only thing left behind was the hat sitting on the bench which she had forgotten to grab before leaving. However, she made sure to quickly steal one. Afterwards, Annetta made sure to head straight home as she used the already growing crowd to her advantage. She was sure that the man hadn’t been looking for her, but one could never be too careful with the Cento Occhi.
By the time she returned to their home, it was almost noon and Ciro glanced disapprovingly at her. Annetta grinned sheepishly at him to which he sighed in fond exasperation before returning to sharpening his dagger. “Don’t you have a date today?” he asked with a smirk.
Annetta flushed hotly at his words as her mouth opened and closed several times indignantly. “I-it’s n-not a date, Ciro!” she sputtered. The man stopped what he was doing to look at his surrogate daughter with a raised eyebrow. Annetta’s lips twisted irritably before turning away and hurrying out of the door followed by Ciro’s amused laughter.
~o~
It was difficult to remember the exact place where he’d met Robyn and Yeoman, since he’d chased after the youth without keeping track of the direction he had taken. So, imagine his surprise when he saw that slender figure next to that same alleyway he had pinned him in. Vittorio thought he had sufficiently sated his lust three days later, but seeing Yeoman again made his cock stir to life once more. By that point he’d stopped caring that it was wrong, and just wanted to throw the boy down on that same pile of hay and make him howl in pleasure. However, he resisted because he had no idea how Yeoman would react, and he really didn’t want to add rape to his wanted posters. So, he would wait to see how this particular encounter would pan out before he acted on his impulses.
As Vittorio was battling with his desire to ravage the other, Yeoman, or rather, Annetta was trying her hardest not to blush at seeing the other thief. Ciro’s earlier words wouldn’t leave her mind, and she was getting flustered at remembering Vittorio’s larger body covering hers. Also, she could have sworn she had felt the man harden against her knee, but couldn’t be too sure. However, just the thought of it was getting her a little hot under the collar. Especially at the hungry look she saw in his eyes now. Annetta felt her insides quiver in anticipation.
“W-well, what are you waiting for?” she called, her voice shaking. She didn’t know exactly what she was asking for, but she knew what he wanted. Annetta wondered if he suspected she was a girl, or if he was attracted to her because he truly believed she was a boy. Well, she was about to find out as he stalked toward her.
Vittorio’s mouth stretched back into a grin underneath his mask at Annetta’s words, and quickly moved in her direction. He grabbed the smaller figure, pushing her back into the shadows of the alleyway. When he was sure his face wouldn’t be seen he yanked his mask down and crushed his mouth to hers. Annetta immediately grabbed onto him and kissed back passionately, and Vittorio was glad he hadn’t read her wrong.
His hands first pulled off her hat, finding the hair pinned up and pushed the fingers into the strands to dislodge the pins so it cascaded almost down to her waist. Vittorio shoved the coat back and pulled the shirt open with more force than he intended, ripping it a bit but Annetta only hissed angrily against his mouth and continued to kiss him. When his fingers felt the bindings keeping Annetta’s breasts flattened, he reeled back in shock and left Annetta panting against the wall feeling hurt and confused.
“You’re a woman?” he asked incredulously. His body and the top of his head were partially lighted by the dying sunlight, and Annetta could make out the top of a hideous scar just under his left caramel eye. It didn’t stop the persistent throbbing in her nether region that had started as soon as he’d touched her. However, she was worried that the fact that she was a woman would turn him off.
Annetta lifted shaking hands to pull the shirt closed. “Yes, so tough luck if you were expecting a man,” she spat, but her bravado was a cover for the humiliation of rejection.
Vittorio realized that his actions had been misinterpreted and surged forward. “No, no, of course not,” he reassured, large hands coming to cup her face. He could just make out her now obviously female face in the dim light, and he now knew that pretty hadn’t been enough to describe her before. The girl was gorgeous. “I was freaking out before.” He leaned down to kiss her again and was relieved when she only hesitated for an instant. “Grazie a Dio you’re a woman!” Vittorio growled against her mouth. He pulled her shirt open again and released her breasts from the restricting material.
Annetta moaned as her nipple was pinched by his fingers, arching up against the leg pressed between her thighs. It was getting so hot and she felt a desperate urgency to get touched where it was incessantly throbbing. She fumbled for his hand and pushed it to her own crotch. Vittorio pulled his hand free and shoved it down her pants and found her already wet. “Dio,” he gasped, crooking his fingers up into her. Annetta yelped in shock at the unfamiliar feeling of something inside of her. Vittorio paused at her reaction. “A-are you-?”
“Hey! What are you doing over there?!” Vittorio’s and Annetta’s heads snapped toward the mouth of the alleyway and the four guards that were quickly approaching. Vittorio’s hand snapped out automatically and a throwing knife embedded in one of the guards’ leg. Annetta’s own projectile wasn’t too far behind. However, hers was a smoke bomb that landed at their feet, stopping them as they started coughing on the smoke. Both the thieves darted out of the alleyway, and were aware that the other three members of the patrol that could still walk were chasing them.
As they ran, Vittorio turned to look at Annetta as her long black hair whipped behind her, and her recovered hat clasped in her hand. There was a huge smile on her face as if she were having the time of her life running from the guards. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” he challenged and she flashed him an excited grin.
“Are you sure you can keep up with me?” she jeered right back. The young man had pulled up his mask once more so she couldn’t see his expression, but his caramel eyes were filled with amusement. As they led the guards on a good chase, they stuck together because, after all, they had unfinished business after they outran these bastardi. Every time she looked over at Vittorio she would see that same hungry look again. As soon as they lost their tail, then a private rendezvous was in order, and she didn’t care if it happened in the stables. By that point, anywhere was good even if it meant almost getting caught by guards again, and if she was really honest, the prospect excited her a little.
~o~
“I’m Annetta. W-what’s your name?” she asked breathlessly. She was lying on the hay next to Vittorio’s naked body afterwards, and wished she had a blanket. The stable wasn’t the most romantic place to have lost her virginity in, but after outrunning the guards the thieves had snuck in there to hide until they gave up the search. Even before they were safe, Vittorio couldn’t keep his hands to himself as he had fondled her against the wall they were hiding behind. She had hissed at him to stop or they would be caught, but nothing she said dissuaded him and pretty soon she was silently praying that they’d go away.
Vittorio paused momentarily as he always did when he was trying to decide if he could trust someone with his name. Nobody in the Thieves’ Guild knew the young man as being anything else beside the fake name he had been given. Vittorio didn’t trust anyone beside Elio, Alejandro, and Mario with his name; La Volpe not included because he’d never met the man. So, he couldn’t simply give this girl his name as freely as she had obviously given hers. He didn’t know her, and didn’t trust her.
He turned his body around so he was looking at her face, and saw her staring up at him earnestly. It was obvious she had been a virgin, because when he’d pushed into her she had cried in pain and clung fiercely to him. He was sure there would be blood, and he felt guilty that he had let his lust control him so he’d taken her on a pile of dirty hay. Annetta is what she said her name was, and he found it fitting for her. It was a beautiful name for a beautiful girl and he wished he could feel more than lust when he looked at her, but he didn’t.
“Piero,” he lied, the practiced smile coming easily to his face. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Annetta’s, and noticed that there was a lighter shade of black around her pupil. “It’s dangerous to remain here. We should go.”
The young woman deflated in disappointment. “Oh, yes, we should.” They dressed in silence, and when Vittorio turned to leave Annetta had not yet pinned her hair up so it swayed around her as she whipped around. “Will I see you again?” She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt.
He glanced back at her and once more gave her that plastic smile that was meant to reassure her, but for some reason it filled her with sadness. “Of course you will. Just come back here every fourth day of the week, and I’ll be here.” Vittorio reached out to finger a strand of her vibrant black hair before he let it drop, and walked out of the stable.
When he’d gone she looked around at the stable and wondered if he had meant here. Annetta rushed over to the door with the intention to see him leave, but when she got there he was nowhere to be seen. She fell against the frame of the gate as her fingers wound the strands of her dark mane between the digits. It had started out as such a wonderful, passionate day, and had ended leaving her cold and abandoned. A few minutes later, she walked out of the stable with her hair pinned under her hat, and the persona of Yeoman firmly in place. When Ciro asked her why she was limping, she explained it away as an injury she’d gotten from the spare with “Piero”.
Annetta wondered if that was even his real name.
~o~
1500
She prowled along the rooftops as her sharp, black eyes observed the people walking down below on the streets. It was her job to spot the bait and then Ciro would do the stealing. They’d had a good day thus far since she had managed to spot three big purses, and he’d moved in, gotten the money and moved on without too much trouble. Now, she was looking for a fourth so they could call it a day and go home. Home, the concept was foreign to her, since that place had been seized by the Borgia along with all her family’s earthly possessions. Now, there were only temporary places where they rested during the nights, and it was a wonder that they had stayed where they were this long.
As she was choosing her next target, Annetta could admit that her mind started to wander elsewhere. To be more specific, her mind was on that night’s meeting with Piero. It was the fourth day of the week.
Piero.
That was the name he had given her when he’d taken her virginity, and for two years she hadn’t asked him what his real name was, since she knew that Piero wasn’t his name. It was only because a man named Alejandro had accidentally stumbled into Vittorio as he had arrived to the stables. He had made it seem as if he was on his way back from a mission, and Annetta had been eavesdropping behind the door. She had overheard Alejandro call him ‘Vittorio’.
Two years had passed since then, and she still didn’t know what to call their casual involvement. Or rather, Vittorio wouldn’t let her call it a romance, or even a relationship. He called it an ‘arrangement’ or their ‘situation’, but never anything else. Annetta knew what it was to her after two years, and what had at first been just a fling had turned into something so deep that Vittorio’s indifference was a knife to her heart. Annetta was pretty sure she loved him, and it killed her that Vittorio didn’t feel the same way.
She couldn’t blame anyone but herself, since she’d let him sweep her into it knowing that all he wanted was to satisfy his lust. Annetta also knew that she wasn’t the only one, because she had seen him visit a brothel once or twice. The young woman could smell their cheap perfume on his clothes whenever they would meet up. Even knowing this hurtful information, she continued to let him use her, and as they were having sex she pretended it was because he loved her. That the filthy words he whispered in her words were endearments.
Annetta was thus distracted as she chose the next target. It was two men astride two fine looking horses, and one had black robes and the other was in white, whose features were obscured by a hood. Annetta figured they would be too distracted by their conversation to notice the theft. As she made a cooing sound reminiscent of a pigeon and signaled the target, she failed to notice the sword at his side, and that his hooded appearance made him appear mysterious, but dangerous.
Annetta inexplicably held her breath as Ciro weaved through the crowd with expert ease, finally breaking away and passing at a run to the slowly trotting horse. He snatched the man’s coin pouch and darted away, intending to disappear within the crowd. She was just about to turn away when the whine of a horse caught her attention. Her eyes darted back to the two men and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the hooded figure chasing down Ciro on the horse. The young girl experienced a moment of panic and dashed across the rooftops, trying to keep up with what was happening down below. If Ciro was hurt, then she’d never forgive herself for having been too distracted to notice that he was a threat.
A small cry of dismay escaped her throat when the white clad stranger leapt from on top of the horse and landed heavily on the thief. Annetta got off the roof with such urgency that it was a wonder she didn’t fall and break her neck. However, as soon as she hit the ground, Ciro was at her side and led her off without a word. She tried to say something, apologize for her mistake, and ask what had happened with the man, but he shushed her and Annetta obediently kept quiet. They took several detours and changed directions so many times that she lost track of where they were. Annetta had never seen Ciro this paranoid before, and she didn’t understand why this incident had been so significant. They had been caught in the act before and had to flee. The way the man had chased him down to recover the money and then simply let him go was very odd, but not enough to bring about this level of paranoia.
“Ciro, what’s happening?” she demanded as soon as they were inside their safe house. Instead of answering, the man started to run around and gather all their belongings. Annetta was stunned, since the last time they moved had been when a guard had followed her too close to their base for Ciro’s comfort, and they’d moved here. That had been almost three years ago. Although Annetta had started to think of this as her home, she didn’t question the man and started packing what they needed, but left what would slow them down. They were gone in five minutes.
It was ten minutes later that another man stepped through the threshold and stopped there to look around. He was clad in black robes and had dark hair chopped close to his scalp. It was obvious to him that both were long gone, and from here he had no idea where to start looking. Although La Volpe had told him of it, the sudden appearance of the lone thief had shocked him.
He had wanted to go after him, but chasing after him instead of sending Ezio would have looked strange. So, he had encouraged the man to chase after the thief while he had followed, and he had hoped that perhaps he would do the job for him. However, he had not expected Ezio to let him go, and Ciro had fled with Yeoman before he could intercept him. Although he had chased him, it was obvious that Ciro had not been idle all these years as he’d managed to lose his tail three times. By the time he had managed to find his trail, Ciro and the boy had enough time to get to the safe house, take what they could and flee.
The man knew that both of Ciro’s children had been killed, so he wondered of the identity of this street urchin simply known as ‘Yeoman’. If only Ciro had accepted his brother’s invitation to join the Thieves’ Guild, and then he would have had the man’s location. At the moment the Guild may be scattered and a bit unstable, but they had their hands full with trying to deal with the Cento Occhi. However, it had always been a strong ally to the Assassin Brotherhood dating back almost to the Crusades, and what’s more; La Volpe was a member of the Order himself.
Although, right now all three factions were estranged with the Order because he had been trying to aid Ezio in his quest to recover the apple, and in the process he had failed to offer them aid when they most needed it. Now, it seemed that he may have to get Ezio’s help to restore the unspoken treaty they had with the Order. Ezio was not very good at accepting orders, so he’d have to manipulate the situation to where it was Ezio that brought up the idea as if it were his own.
As for Ciro, well, it was obvious that the man was reluctant to leave Roma if he was here after all these years, so he would definitely find him again. It was then that Niccolo Machiavelli and Ciro Petaccia would meet face to face once more, and Niccolo would have justice for his fallen brothers. After all, Ciro had betrayed the Order out of vengeance over his family’s deaths, but that information he had given the Templars had gotten two Assassins killed.
So, he would find him and kill him, and when he was finished making it look like suicide, Niccolo would take the boy and make him his own novice. He would whisper this in Ciro’s ear as he lay dying, and enjoy the look on the man’s face knowing that his boy would be a member of the same Order that had cost his family their lives; the Order he had betrayed.
~o~
As they settled down for the night in their new safe house in Centro, Annetta sat on the roof hidden by the shadow of the rooftop garden as the curtain billowed in the authmn breeze. She was leaning against the structure as she stared up at the millions of stars overhead. Annetta’s mind wandered to the hated stables and wondered if Vittorio was there now and if he would care whether she returned or not. She doubted he would. He had told her once that he preferred to have no attachments, and she had no doubt that he would easily find someone else to replace her with. The thought broke her heart and a lonely tear ran down her cheek, which she angrily wiped away. Annetta refused to shed any tears for him, because he wasn’t worth it.
Only, he really was worth it, but she had already allowed him to trample on her pride enough times. So, even if it meant tearing away a chuck of her heart, she wouldn’t go tonight.
Annetta wouldn’t return ever again.
Part II