Oliver Bowden - Assassin's Creed - Renaissance

But this had given Ezio enough time to step quietly through the doorway and position himself behind the guard. The street was deserted. The nape of the man's sweaty neck was exposed. It was as good a time as any to give his new toy a trial run. He raised his hand, triggered the release mechanism, and the silent blade shot out. With a deft movement of his now open right hand, Ezio stabbed once into the side of the guard's neck. The recently honed edge of the blade was viciously sharp, and eased through the man's jugular without the slightest resistance. The guard fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Ezio helped Leonardo up.

'Thank you,' said the shaken artist.

'I'm sorry - I didn't mean to kill him - there was no time -'

'Sometimes we don't have an alternative. But I should be used to this by now.'

'What do you mean?'

'I was involved in the Saltarelli case.'

Ezio remembered then. A young artist's model, Jacopo Saltarelli, had been anonymously denounced a few weeks earlier for practising prostitution, and Leonardo, along with three others, had been accused of patronizing him. The case had fallen apart for lack of evidence, but some of the mud had stuck. 'But we don't prosecute homosexual men here,' he said. 'Why, I seem to remember that the Germans have a nickname for them - they call them Florenzer.'

'It's still officially against the law,' said Leonardo drily. 'You can still get fined. And with men like Alberti in charge -'

'What about the body?'

'Oh,' said Leonardo. 'It's quite a windfall. Help me drag it inside before anyone sees us. I'll put it with the others.'

'Windfall? Others?'

'The cellar's quite cold. They keep for a week. I get one or two cadavers that no one else wants from the hospital now and then. All unofficial, of course. But I cut them open, and dig about a bit - it helps me with my research.'

Ezio looked at his friend more than curiously. 'What?'

'I think I told you - I like to find out how things work.'

They dragged the body out of sight, and Leonardo's two assistants manhandled it through a door down some stone steps, out of sight.

'But what if they send someone after him - to find out what happened to him?'

Leonardo shrugged. 'I'll deny all knowledge.' He winked. 'I'm not without powerful friends here, Ezio.'

Ezio was nonplussed. He said, 'Well, you seem confident enough.'

'Just don't mention this incident to anyone else.'

'I won't - and thank you, Leonardo, for everything.'

'A pleasure. And don't forget -' a hungry look had crept into his eyes, '- if you find any more pages from this Codex, bring them to me. Who knows what other new designs they might contain.'

'I promise!' Ezio made his way back to Paola's house in triumphant mood, though he did not forget to lose himself in the anonymity of the crowd as he passed back north through the town.

Paola greeted him with some relief. 'You were gone longer than I'd expected.'

'Leonardo likes to talk.'

'But that's not all he did, I hope?'

'Oh no. Look!' And he showed her the wrist-dagger, extending it from his sleeve with an extravagant flourish, and a boyish grin.

'Impressive.'

'Yes.' Ezio looked at it admiringly. 'I'll need a bit of practice with it. I want to keep all my own fingers.'

Paola looked serious. 'Well, Ezio, it looks as if you're all set. I've given you the skills you need, Leonardo has repaired your weapon.' She took a breath. 'All that's needed now is for you to do the deed.'

'Yes,' said Ezio quietly, his expression darkening again. 'The question is, how best to gain access to Messer Alberti.'

Paola looked thoughtful. 'Duke Lorenzo is back with us. He isn't happy about the executions Alberti authorized in his absence, but he doesn't have the power to challenge the Gonfaloniere. Nevertheless, there's to be a vernissage for Maestro Verrocchio's latest work at the cloister of Santa Croce tomorrow night. All Florentine society will be there, including Alberti.' She looked at him. 'I think you should be, too.'

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.