Ezio found out that the piece of sculpture to be unveiled was a bronze statue of David, the biblical hero with whom Florence associated itself, poised as the city was between the twin Goliaths of Rome to the south and the land-hungry kings of France to the north. It had been commissioned by the Medici family and was destined to be installed in the Palazzo Vecchio. The Maestro had started work on it three or four years earlier, and a rumour had been going round that the head was modelled on one of Verrocchio's handsomer young apprentices of the time - a certain Leonardo da Vinci. At any rate, there was great excitement, and people were already dithering about what to wear for the occasion.
Ezio had other matters to ponder.
'Watch over my mother and sister while I'm gone,' he asked Paola.
'As if they were my own.'
'And if anything should happen to me -'
'Have faith, and it won't.'
Ezio made his way to Santa Croce in good time the following evening. He had spent the previous hours preparing himself, and honing his skills with his new weapon, until he was satisfied that he was fully proficient in its use. His thoughts dwelt on the deaths of his father and brothers, and the cruel tones of Alberti's voice as he passed sentence rang all too clearly in his mind.
As he approached, he saw two figures whom he recognized walking ahead of him, slightly apart from a small squad of bodyguards whose uniform displayed a badge of five red balls on a yellow ground. They appeared to be arguing, and he hurried forward to bring himself within earshot of them. They paused in front of the portico of the church, and he hovered nearby, out of sight, to listen. The men addressed each other in tight-lipped tones. One was Uberto Alberti; the other, a slim young man in his mid to late twenties, with a prominent nose and a determined face, was richly dressed in a red cap and
cloak, over which he wore a silver-grey tunic. Duke Lorenzo - Il Magnifico, as his subjects called him, to the disgust of the Pazzi and their faction.
'You cannot tax me with this,' Alberti was saying. 'I acted on information received and irrefutable evidence - I acted within the law and within the bounds of my office!'
'No! You overstepped your bounds, Gonfaloniere, and you took advantage of my absence from Florence to do so. I am more than displeased.'
'Who are you to speak of bounds? You have seized power over this city, made yourself duke of it, without the formal consent of the Signoria or anyone else!'
'I have done no such thing!'
Alberti permitted himself a sardonic laugh. 'Of course you'd say that! Ever the innocent! How convenient for you. You surround yourself at Careggi with men most of the rest of us consider dangerous free-thinkers - Ficino, Mirandola, and that creep Poliziano! But at least now we have had a chance to see how far your reach really extends - which is to say, nowhere at all, in any practical terms. That has proved a valuable lesson for my allies and me.'
'Yes. Your allies the Pazzi. That's what this is really all about, isn't it?'
Alberti studied his fingernails elaborately before replying. 'I'd be careful what you say, Duce. You might attract the wrong sort of attention.' But he didn't sound completely sure of himself.
'You are the one who should watch his mouth, Gonfaloniere. And I suggest you pass that advice on to your associates - take it as a friendly warning.' With that, Lorenzo swept away with his bodyguard in the direction of the cloister. After a moment, muttering some oath under his breath, Alberti followed. It almost sounded to Ezio as if the man were cursing himself.
The cloisters themselves had been draped with cloth-of-gold for the occasion, which dazzlingly reflected the light from hundreds of candles. On a rostrum near the fountain in the centre, a group of musicians played, and on another stood the bronze statue, a half life-size figure of exquisite beauty. As Ezio entered, using columns and shadows to conceal himself, he could see Lorenzo complimenting the artist. Ezio also recognized the mysterious cowled figure who'd been on the execution platform with Alberti.
Some distance away, Alberti himself stood surrounded by admiring members of the local nobility. From what he could hear, Ezio understood that they were congratulating the Gonfaloniere on ridding the city of the canker of the Auditore family. He had not thought that his father had so many enemies, as well as friends, in the city, but realized that they had only dared move against him when his principal ally, Lorenzo, had been absent. Ezio smiled as one noblewoman told Alberti that she hoped the Duke appreciated his integrity. It was clear that Alberti didn't like that suggestion one bit. Then he overheard more.
'What of the other son?' a nobleman was asking. 'Ezio, wasn't it? Has he escaped for good?'
Alberti managed a smile. 'The boy poses no danger whatsoever. Soft hands and an even softer head. He'll be caught and executed before the week is out.'
The company around him laughed.
'So - what's next for you, Uberto?' asked another man. 'The Chair of the Signoria, perhaps?'
Alberti spread his hands. 'It is as God wills. My only interest is to continue to serve Florence, faithfully and diligently.'
'Well, whatever you choose, know that you have our support.'
'That is most gratifying. We'll see what the future brings.' Alberti beamed, but modestly. 'And now, my friends, I suggest that we put politics aside and give ourselves over to the enjoyment of this sublime work of art, so generously donated by the noble Medici.'
Ezio waited until Alberti's companions wandered away in the direction of the David. For his part, Alberti took a goblet of wine and surveyed the scene, a mixture of satisfaction and wariness in his eyes. Ezio knew that this was his opportunity. All other eyes were on the statue, near which Verrocchio was stumbling through a short speech. Ezio slipped up to Alberti's side.
'It must have stuck in your craw to pay that last compliment,' Ezio hissed. 'But it's appropriate that you should be insincere to the end.'
Recognizing him, Alberti's eyes bulged in terror. 'You!'
'Yes, Gonfaloniere. It's Ezio. Here to avenge the murder of my father - your friend - and my innocent brothers.'
Alberti heard the dull click of a spring, a metallic sound, and saw the blade poised at his throat.
'Goodbye, Gonfaloniere,' said Ezio, coldly.
'Stop,' gasped Alberti. 'In my position, you would have done the same - to protect the ones you loved. Forgive me, Ezio - I had no choice.'
Ezio leant close, ignoring his plea. He knew the man had had a choice - an honourable one - and had been too supine to make it. 'Do you not think I am not protecting the ones I love? What mercy would you show my mother or my sister, if you could lay your hands on them? Now: where are the documents I gave you from my father? You must have them somewhere safe.'
'You'll never get them. I always carry them on my person!' Alberti tried to push Ezio away, and drew in a breath to call for the guards, but Ezio plunged the dagger into his throat and dragged its blade through the man's jugular artery. Unable now even to gurgle, Alberti sank to his knees, his hands instinctively clutching at his neck in a vain attempt to staunch the blood that cascaded down on to the grass. As he fell on his side, Ezio stooped swiftly and cut the man's wallet free of his belt. He glanced inside. Alberti in his final hubris had been telling the truth. The documents were indeed there.
But now there was silence. Verrocchio's speech had ground to a halt as the guests began to turn and stare, not yet comprehending what had happened. Ezio stood and faced them.
'Yes! What you see is real! What you see is vengeance! The Auditore family still lives. I am still here! Ezio Auditore!'
He caught his breath at the same moment as a woman's voice rang out, 'Assassino!'
Now chaos reigned. Lorenzo's bodyguard quickly formed up round him, swords drawn. The guests ran hither and yon, some trying to escape, the braver ones going through the motions at least of trying to seize Ezio, though none quite dared make a real attempt. Ezio noticed the cowled figure slipping away into the shadows. Verrocchio stood protectively by his statue. Women scream
ed, men shouted, and city guards streamed into the cloisters, unsure of whom to pursue. Ezio took advantage of this, climbing up to the roof of the cloister colonnade and vaulting over it into a courtyard beyond, whose open gate led into the square in front of the church, where a curious crowd was already gathering, attracted by the sound of the commotion within.
'What's happening?' someone asked Ezio.
'Justice has been done,' Ezio replied, before racing north-west across town to the safety of Paola's mansion. He paused on the way to verify the contents of Alberti's wallet. At least the man's last words had been truthful. Everything was there. And there was something else. An undelivered letter in Alberti's hand. Perhaps fresh knowledge for Ezio, who broke the seal and tore the parchment open.
But it was a personal note from Alberti to his wife. As he read it, Ezio could at least understand what kind of forces might be brought to bear to break a man's integrity. My love
I put these thoughts to paper in the hope that I might one day have the courage to share them with you. In time, you'll no doubt learn that I betrayed Giovanni Auditore, labelled
him a traitor and sentenced him to die. History will likely judge this act to have been a matter of politics and greed. But you must understand that it was not fate that forced my hand, but fear.
When the Medici robbed our family of all we owned, I found myself afraid. For you. For our son. For the future. What hope is there in this world for a man without proper means? As for the others, they off ered me money, land and title in exchange for my collaboration. And this is how I came to betray my closest friend. However unspeakable the act, it seemed necessary at the time. And even now, looking back, I can see no other way. Ezio folded the letter carefully and replaced it in his wallet. He would reseal it, and see that it was delivered. He was determined not to stoop to mean-spiritedness, ever.
6
'It's done,' he told Paola, simply.
She embraced him briefly, then stood back. 'I know. I am glad to see you safe.'
'I think it's time for me to leave Florence.'
'Where will you go?'
'My father's brother Mario has an estate near Monteriggioni. We'll go there.'
'There's a huge hunt on for you already, Ezio. They are putting up "wanted" posters everywhere with your picture on them. And the public orators are beginning to speak against you.' She paused, thoughtfully. 'I'll get some of my people to go out and tear down as many posters as they can, and the orators can be bribed to speak of other things.' Another thought struck her. 'And I'd better have travel papers drawn up for the three of you.'
Ezio shook his head, thinking of Alberti. 'What is this world we live in, where belief can so easily be manipulated?'
'Alberti was placed in what he saw as an impossible position, but he should have held firm against it.' She sighed. 'Truth is traded every day. It's something you'll have to get used to, Ezio.'
He took her hands in his. 'Thank you.'
'Florence will be a better place now, especially if Duke Lorenzo can get one of his own men elected Gonfaloniere. But now there is no time to waste. Your mother and sister are here.' She turned and clapped her hands. 'Annetta!'
Annetta emerged from the back of the house, bringing Maria and Claudia with her. It was an emotional reunion. Ezio saw that his mother was not much recovered, and still clasped Petruccio's little box of feathers in her hand. She returned his embrace, though absently, while Paola looked on with a sad smile.
Claudia, on the other hand, clung to him. 'Ezio! Where have you been? Paola and Annetta have been so kind, but they won't let us go home. And Mother hasn't spoken a word since -' She broke off, fighting her own tears. 'Well,' she said, recovering, 'perhaps now Father will be able to sort things out for us. It must all have been a dreadful misunderstanding, no?'
Paola looked at him. 'This might be the time,' she said softly. 'They will have to know the truth soon.'
Claudia's gaze shifted from Ezio to Paola and back again. Maria had seated herself next to Annetta, who had her arm round her. Maria stared into space, smiling faintly, caressing the pearwood box.
'What is it, Ezio?' asked Claudia, fear in her voice.
'Something's happened.'
'What do you mean?'
Ezio was silent, at a loss for words, but his expression told her everything.
'Oh, God, no!'
'Claudia -'
'Tell me it's not true!
Ezio hung his head.
'No, no, no, no, no!' cried Claudia.
'Shhh.' He tried to calm her. 'I did everything I could, piccina.'
Claudia buried her head in his chest and cried, long, harsh sobs, while Ezio did his best to comfort her. He looked over her head at his mother, but she didn't appear to have heard. Perhaps, in her own way, she already knew. After all the turmoil that had descended upon Ezio's life, having to witness his sister and his mother thrown into the depths of despair was almost enough to break him. He stood, holding his sister in his arms, for what seemed an eternity - feeling the responsibility of the world on his shoulders. It was up to him to protect his family now - the Auditore name was his to honour. Ezio the boy was no more. He collected his thoughts.
'Listen,' he said to Claudia, once she had quietened a little. 'What matters now is that we get away from here. Somewhere safe, where you and Mamma can remain in security. But if we are to do that I need you to be brave. You must be strong for me, and look after our mother. Do you understand?'
She listened, cleared her throat, pulled away from him a little, and looked up at him. 'Yes.'
'Then we must make our preparations now. Go and pack what you need, but bring little with you - we must leave on foot -a carriage would be too dangerous to organize. Wear your simplest clothes - we must not draw attention to ourselves. And hurry!'
Claudia left with their mother and Annetta.
'You should bathe and change,' said Paola to him. 'You'll feel better.'
Two hours later their travel papers were ready and they could leave. Ezio checked the contents of his satchel carefully one last time. Perhaps his uncle could explain the contents of the documents he had taken from Alberti, which had clearly been of such vital importance to him. His new dagger was strapped to his right forearm, out of sight. He tightened his belt. Claudia led Maria into the garden and stood by the door in the wall by which they were to leave, with Annetta, who was trying not to cry.
Ezio turned to Paola. 'Goodbye. And thank you again, for everything.'
She put her arms round him and kissed him close to his mouth. 'Stay safe, Ezio, and stay vigilant. I suspect the road ahead of you is yet long.'
He bowed gravely, then drew up his hood and joined his mother and sister, picking up the bag they had packed. They kissed Annetta goodbye, and moments later they were in the street, walking north, Claudia with her arm linked through her mother's. For a while they were silent, and Ezio pondered the great responsibility he had now been obliged to shoulder. He prayed that he would be able to rise to the occasion, but it was hard. He would have to remain strong, but he would manage it for the sake of Claudia and his poor mother, who seemed to have retreated completely into herself.
They had reached the centre of the city when Claudia started to speak - and she was full of questions. He noticed with gratification, though, that her voice was firm.
'How could this have happened to us?' she said.
'I don't know.'
'Do you think we'll ever be able to come back?'
'I don't know, Claudia.'
'What will happen to our house?'
He shook his head. There had been no time to make any arrangements, and if there had been, with whom could he have made them? Perhaps Duke Lorenzo would be able to close it up, have it guarded, but that was a faint hope.
'Were they. Were they given a proper funeral?'
'Yes. I. arranged it myself.' They were crossing the Arno and Ezio allowed himself a glance downriver.
At last they were approaching
the southern city gates, and Ezio was grateful that they had got this far undetected, but it was a dangerous moment, for the gates were heavily policed. Thankfully the documents in false names which Paola had provided them with passed muster, and the guards were on the lookout for a desperate young man on his own, not a modestly dressed little family.
They travelled south steadily all that day, pausing only when they were well clear of the city to buy bread, cheese and wine at a farmhouse and to rest for an hour under the shade of an oak tree at the edge of a cornfield. Ezio had to rein in his impatience, for it was almost thirty miles to Monteriggioni and they had to travel at his mother's pace. She was a strong woman at the beginning of her forties, but the massive shock she had sustained had aged her. He prayed that once they reached Uncle Mario's she would recover, though he could see that any recovery would be a slow one. He hoped that, barring any setback, they would reach Mario's estate by the afternoon of the following day.
That night they spent in a deserted barn, where at least there was clean, warm hay. They dined on the remains of their lunch, and made Maria as comfortable as possible. She made no complaint, indeed she seemed completely unaware of her surroundings; but when Claudia tried to take Petruccio's box from her when getting her ready for bed, she protested violently and pushed her daughter away, swearing at her like a fishwife. Brother and sister were shocked at that.
But she slept peacefully, and seemed refreshed the next morning. They washed themselves in a brook, drank some of its clear water in lieu of breakfast, and continued on their way. It was a bright day, pleasantly warm but with a cooling breeze, and they made good progress, passing only a handful of wagons on the road and seeing no one except the odd group of labourers in the fields and orchards they walked by. Ezio was able to buy some fruit, enough at least for Claudia and his mother, but he wasn't hungry anyway - he was too nervous to eat.
Assassin's Creed: Renaissance Page 8
