Read Assassin's Creed: Renaissance Online
Authors: Oliver Bowden
Tags: #Adventure, #Fantasy, #Thriller
Mario patted his arm. ‘I know something of your father’s business,’ he said, and it occurred to Ezio that Mario hadn’t shown much surprise when he’d told him of the hidden chest in the secret chamber. ‘We’ll make sense of this. But we must also make sure your mother and sister are properly provided for. My castle is not much of a place for women of any quality, and soldiers like me never really settle down; but there is a convent about a mile away where they will be completely safe and well cared for. If you agree, we will send them there. For you and I have much to do.’
Ezio nodded. He would see them settled and persuade Claudia that it was the best temporary solution, for he could not see her wanting to remain long in such seclusion.
They were approaching the little town.
‘I thought Monteriggioni was an enemy of Florence,’ Ezio said.
‘No so much of Florence as of the Pazzi,’ his uncle told him. ‘But you are old enough to know about alliances between city-states, whether they are big ones or small ones. One year there is a friendship, the next, enmity; and the following year there is friendship again. And so it seems to go on for ever, like a mad game of chess. But you’ll like it here. The people are honest and hard-working, and the goods we produce are solid and hard-wearing. The priest is a good man, doesn’t drink too much, and minds his own business. And I mind mine, around him – but I’ve never been a very devoted son of the Church myself. Best of all is the wine – the best Chianti you will ever taste comes from my own vineyards. Come, just a little further, and we’ll be there.’
Mario’s castle was the ancient seat of the Auditori and had been built in the 1250s, though the site had originally been occupied by a much more ancient construction. Mario had refined and added to the building, which nowadays had more of the appearance of an opulent villa, though its walls were high, many feet in thickness, and well fortified. Before it and in place of a garden was a large practice-field, where Ezio could see a couple of dozen young armed men engaged in various exercises to improve their fighting technique.
‘
Casa, dolce casa
,’ said Mario. ‘You haven’t been here since you were a little boy. Been some changes since then. What do you think?’
‘It’s most impressive, Uncle.’
The rest of the day was filled with activity. Mario showed Ezio around the castle, organized his accommodation, and made sure that Claudia and Maria had been safely housed in the nearby convent, whose abbess was an old and dear friend (and, it was rumoured, long ago a mistress) of Mario. But the following morning he was summoned early to his uncle’s workroom, a large, high-ceilinged place, whose walls were festooned with maps, armour and weapons, and furnished with a heavy oak table and chairs.
‘You’d better get into the town quickly,’ Mario said one day soon afterwards in a businesslike voice. Get yourself properly kitted out. I’ll send one of my men with you. Come back here when you’ve finished and we’ll begin.’
‘Begin what, Uncle?’
Mario looked surprised. ‘I thought you’d come here to train.’
‘No, Uncle – that was not my intention. This was the first place of safety I could think of once we had to flee Florence. But my intention is to take my mother and sister further still.’
Mario looked grave. ‘But what about your father? Don’t you think he’d want you to finish his work?’
‘What – as a banker? The family business is over – the House of Auditore is no more, unless Duke Lorenzo has managed to keep it out of Pazzi hands.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of that,’ began Mario, and then interrupted himself. ‘Do you mean to say Giovanni never told you?’
‘I am sorry, Uncle, but I have no idea what you are talking about.’
Mario shook his head. ‘I don’t know what your father must have been thinking of. Perhaps he judged the time not to be right. But events have overtaken any such consideration now.’ He looked hard at Ezio. ‘We must talk, long and hard. Leave me the documents you have in your pouch. I must study them while
you
go into the town and get yourself equipped. Here’s a list of what you’ll need, and money to pay for it.’
In a confused mood, Ezio set off for the town in the company of one of Mario’s sergeants, a grizzled veteran called Orazio, and under his guidance acquired from the armourer there a battle-dagger, light body-armour, and – from the local doctor – bandages and a basic medical kit. He returned to the castle to find Mario waiting impatiently for him.
‘
Salute
,’ said Ezio. ‘I have done as you requested.’
‘And quickly too.
Ben fatto!
And now, we must teach you properly how to fight.’
‘Uncle, forgive me, but as I told you, I have no intention of staying.’
Mario bit his lip. ‘Listen, Ezio, you were barely able to hold your own against Vieri. If I hadn’t arrived when I did…’ He broke off. ‘Well, leave if you must, but at least first learn the skills and knowledge you’ll need to defend yourself, or you won’t last a week on the road.’
Ezio was silent.
‘If not for me, do it for the sake of your mother and sister,’ Mario pressed him.
Ezio considered his options, but he had to admit that his uncle had a point. ‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘Since you’ve been kind enough to see me kitted out.’
Mario beamed and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Good man! You’ll live to thank me!’
In the following weeks the most intensive instruction in the use of arms followed, but while he was learning new battle skills, Ezio was also finding out more about his family background, and the secrets his father had not had time to divulge to him. And, as Mario let him have the run of his library, he gradually became troubled by the fact that he might be on the verge of a far more important destiny than he had believed possible.
‘You say my father was more than just a banker?’ he asked his uncle.
‘Far more,’ replied Mario gravely. ‘You father was a highly trained killer.’
‘That cannot be – my father was always a financier, a businessman… how could he have possibly been a killer?’
‘No, Ezio, he was much more than that. He was born and bred to kill. He was a senior member of the Order of Assassins.’ Mario hesitated. ‘I know you must have found out something more about all this in the library. We must discuss the documents that were entrusted to you, and which you – thank God! – had the wit to retrieve from Alberti. That list of names – it isn’t a catalogue of debtors, you know. It carries the names of all those responsible for your father’s murder – and they are men who form part of a still greater conspiracy.’
Ezio struggled to take it all in – everything he thought he knew about his father, his family, it all now seemed to be a half-truth. How could his father have kept this from him? It was all so inconceivable, so alien. Ezio chose his words with care – his father must have had a reason for this secrecy. ‘I accept that there was more to my father than I ever knew, and forgive me for doubting your word, but why is the need for secrecy so great?’
Mario paused before replying. ‘Are you familiar with the Order of the Knights Templar?’
‘I have heard of them.’
‘They were founded many centuries ago, soon after the First of the Crusades, and became an elite fighting force of warriors for God – effectively they were monks in armour. They took a pledge of abstinence and a vow of poverty. But the years rolled by, and their status changed. In time, they became involved in international finance, and very successful they were at it, too. Other Orders of Knights – the Hospitallers and the Teutonic Knights – looked on them askance, and their power began to be a cause for concern, even to kings. They established a base in southern France, and planned to form their own state. They paid no taxes, supported their own private army, and began to lord it over everyone. At last, nearly two hundred years ago, King Philip the Fair of France moved against them. There was a terrible purge, the Templars were arrested and driven away, massacred, and at last excommunicated by the Pope. But they could not all be rooted out – they had fifteen thousand chapters throughout Europe. Nevertheless, with their estates and properties annexed, the Templars seemed to dis appear, their power apparently broken.’
‘What happened to them?’
Mario shook his head. ‘Of course, it was a ruse to ensure their own survival. They went underground, hoarding the riches they had salvaged, maintaining their organization, and bent more than ever now on their true goal.’
‘And what was that?’
‘What
is
that, you mean!’ Mario’s eyes blazed. ‘Their intention is nothing less than world domination. And only one organization is devoted to thwarting them. The Order of the Assassins, to which your father – and I – have the honour to belong.’
Ezio needed a moment to take this in. ‘And was Alberti one of the Templars?’
Mario nodded solemnly. ‘Yes. As are all the others on your father’s list.’
‘And – Vieri?’
‘He is one as well, and his father Francesco, and all the Pazzi clan.’
Ezio pondered this. ‘That explains much…’ he said. ‘There is something I haven’t shown you yet -‘
He rolled up his sleeve to reveal his secret dagger.
‘Ah,’ said Mario. ‘You were wise not to reveal that until you were sure you could trust even me completely. I was wondering what had become of it. And I see that you have had it repaired. It was your father’s, given to him by our father, and to him by his. It was broken in… a confrontation your father was involved in many years ago, but he could never find a craftsman skilled or trustworthy enough to restore it. You have done well, my boy.’
‘Even so,’ said Ezio. ‘All this talk of Assassins and Templars sounds like something from an ancient tale – it reeks of the fantastic.’
Mario smiled. ‘Like something from an old parchment covered in arcane writing, perhaps?’
‘You know of the Codex page?’
Mario shrugged. ‘Had you forgotten? It was with the papers you handed over to me.’
‘Can you tell me what it is?’ Ezio was somehow reluctant to involve his friend Leonardo in this unless it became strictly necessary.
‘Well, whoever repaired your blade must have been able to read at least some of it,’ said Mario, but he raised his hand as Ezio was about to open his mouth. ‘But I will ask you no questions. I can see that you wish to protect someone, and I will respect that. But there is more to the page than the working instructions for your weapon. The pages of the Codex are scattered now throughout Italy. It is a guide to the inner workings of the Assassins’ Order, its origin, purpose and techniques. It is, if you will, our Creed. Your father believed that the Codex contained a powerful secret. Something that would change the world.’ He paused for thought. ‘Perhaps that is why they came for him.’
Ezio was overwhelmed at this information – it was a huge amount to take in all at once. ‘Assassins, Templars, this strange Codex -‘
‘I will be your guide, Ezio. But you must first learn to open your mind, and always remember this: nothing is true. Everything is permitted.’
Mario would tell him nothing more then, though Ezio pressed him. Instead, his uncle continued to put him through the most rigorous process of military training, and from dawn to dusk he found himself exercising with the young
condottieri
on the practice-ground, falling into bed each night too exhausted to think of anything but sleep. And then, one day…
‘Well done, nephew!’ his uncle told him. ‘I think you are ready.’
Ezio was pleased. ‘Thank you, Uncle, for all you’ve given me.’
Mario’s answer was to give the boy a bear-hug. ‘You are family! Such is my duty and desire!’
‘I’m glad you persuaded me to stay.’
Mario looked at him keenly. ‘So – have you reconsidered your decision to leave?’
Ezio returned his gaze. ‘I am sorry, Uncle, but my mind is made up. For the safety of Mamma and Claudia – I still intend to make for the coast and take ship for Spain.’
Mario did not hide his displeasure. ‘Forgive me, nephew, but I have not taught you the skills you now have either for my own amusement or your exclusive benefit. I have taught you so that you may be better prepared to strike against our enemies.’
‘And, if they find me, so I will.’
‘So,’ Mario said bitterly. ‘You want to leave? To throw away everything your father fought and died for? To deny your very heritage? Well! I cannot pretend to you that I am not disappointed – highly disappointed. But so be it. Orazio will take you to the convent when you judge the moment to be right for your mother to travel, and he will see you on your way. I wish you
buona fortuna
.’
With that, Mario turned his back on his nephew and stalked away.
More time passed, as Ezio found he had to allow his mother enough peace and quiet to pave the way to her recovery. He himself made his preparations for leaving with a heavy heart. At last he set out to pay what he imagined might be his last visit to the convent to visit his mother and sister before taking them away, and found them better than he’d dared to hope. Claudia had made friends with some of the younger nuns, and it was clear to Ezio, to his surprise and not greatly to his pleasure, that she was beginning to be attracted to the life. Meanwhile his mother was making a steady but slow recovery, and the abbess, on hearing of his plans, demurred, advising him that rest was what she still badly needed, and that she should not be moved again just yet.
When he returned to Mario’s castle, therefore, he was full of misgivings, and he was aware that these misgivings had grown with time.
At that period, some kind of military preparations had been going on in Monteriggioni, and now they seemed to be coming to a head. The sight of them distracted him. His uncle was nowhere to be seen, but he managed to track Orazio down to the map-room.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Where’s my uncle?’
‘He’s preparing for battle.’
‘What? With whom?’
‘Oh, I expect he’d have told you if he’d thought you were staying. But we all know that that is not your intention.’
‘Well…’
‘Listen, your old friend Vieri de’ Pazzi has set himself up at San Gimignano. He’s tripling the garrison there and has let it be known that as soon as he’s ready, he’s coming to raze Monteriggioni to the ground. So we’re going there first, to crush the little snake and teach the Pazzi a lesson they won’t forget in a hurry.’