Oliver Bowden - Assassin's Creed - Renaissance

The door and windows of the house were firmly shut, but as he made his way round the back, where two wings of the building formed a courtyard, Ezio heard a young, firm voice delivering a severe lecture. He climbed on to the roof and peered down into the courtyard, where Bianca Sforza, the miniature image of her mother, was giving two surly Orsi guardsmen a dressing-down.

'Are you two sorry-looking specimens all they could rustle up to guard me?' she was saying regally, drawn up to her full height and showing as little fear as her mother would have done. 'Stolti! It won't be enough! My mamma is fierce and would never let you hurt me. We Sforza women are no shrinking violets, you know! We may look pretty to the eye, but the eyes deceive. As my pappa found out!' She drew breath, and the guards looked at each other nonplussed. 'I hope you don't imagine I'm scared of you either, because if you did you'd be very much mistaken. And if you touch one hair of my little brother's head, my mamma will hunt you down and eat you for breakfast! Capito?'

'Just button it, you little fool,' growled the older of the guards. 'Unless you want a clip round the ear!'

'Don't you dare talk to me like that! In any case, it's absurd. You'll never get away with this, and I'll be safe at home within the hour. In fact, I'm getting bored. I'm surprised you don't have anything better to do, while I wait for you to die!'

'All right, that's quite enough,' said the older guard, reaching out to grab her. But at that moment Ezio fired his pistola from the rooftop, hitting the soldier squarely in the chest. The man was launched from his feet - crimson blossoming through his tunic even before he hit the ground. Ezio mused for a second that Leonardo's powder mix must be improving. In the flurry of confusion that followed the guard's sudden death, Ezio leapt down from the rooftop, landing with the grace and power of a panther, and with his double-blades quickly rounded on the younger guard, who fumbled in drawing an ugly-looking dagger. Ezio slashed precisely at the man's forearm, shearing through tendons as though they were ribbons. The man's dagger dropped to the ground, sticking point first in the mud - and before he could muster any further defence, Ezio had brought the double-blade under his jaw, stabbing through the soft tissue of the mouth and tongue, into the cavity of the skull. Ezio calmly withdrew the blades, leaving the corpse to slump to the ground.

'Are they the only two?' he asked the undismayed Bianca as he quickly reloaded.

'Yes! And thank you, whoever you are. My mother will see that you are amply rewarded. But they've got my brother Ottaviano too -'

'Do you know where he is?' asked Ezio, swiftly reloading his pistol.

'They've got him in the watchtower - by the ruined bridge! We must hurry!'

'Show me where, and stay very close!'

He followed her out of the house and along the road until they came upon the tower. They were just in time, for there was Lodovico himself, dragging the whimpering Ottaviano along by the scruff of his neck. Ezio could see that the little boy was limping - he must have twisted his ankle.

'You!' shouted Lodovico when he saw Ezio. 'You'd better hand the girl over and go back to your mistress - tell her we'll finish the pair of them if we don't get what we want!'

'I want my mamma,' bawled Ottaviano. 'Let me go you, you big thug!'

'Shut up, marmocchio!' Lodovico snarled at him. 'Ezio! Go fetch the Apple and the Map or the kid gets it.'

'I need to pee!' wailed Ottaviano.

'Oh, for God's sake, chiudi il becco!'

'Let him go,' said Ezio firmly.

'I'd like to see you make me! You'll never get close enough, you fool! The minute you make a move, I'll slit his throat as easily as winking!'

Lodovico had dragged the little boy in front of him with both hands, but now had to free one hand in order to draw his sword. At that moment Ottaviano tried to break free, but Lodovico grasped him firmly by the wrist. Nevertheless, Ottaviano was no longer between Lodovico and Ezio. Seeing his opportunity, Ezio sprang out his pistol and fired.

Lodovico's enraged expression was transformed to one of disbelief. The ball had hit him in the neck - cutting the jugular. His eyes goggling, he let go of Ottaviano and sank to his knees, clutching his throat - the blood seeping through his fingers. The boy ran forward to be embraced by his sister.

'Ottaviano! Stai bene!' she said, hugging him close.

Ezio moved forward to stand over Lodovico, but not too close. The man hadn't fallen yet and his sword was still in his hand. Blood oozed down on to his jerkin, a trickle becoming a torrent.

'I don't know what Devil's instrument has given you the means to get the better of me, Ezio,' he panted. 'But I am sorry to tell you that you will lose this game whatever you do. We Orsi are not the fools you seem to take us for. If anyone is a fool, you are - you and Caterina!'

'You are the fool,' said Ezio, his voice cold with scorn, 'To die for a bagful of silver. Do you really think it was worth it?'

Lodovico grimaced. 'More than you know, friend. You've been outwitted. And whatever you do now, the Master will gain his prize!' His face contorted in agony at the pain from his wound. The bloodstain had spread. 'You'd better finish me, Ezio, if you have any mercy in you at all.'

'Then die with your pride, Orsi. It means nothing.' Ezio stepped forward and further opened the wound in Lodovico's neck. An instant later, he was no more. Ezio stooped over him and closed his eyes. 'Requiescat in pace,' he said.

But there was no time to be lost. He returned to the children, who had been watching wide-eyed. 'Can you walk?' he asked Ottaviano.

'I'll try, but it hurts terribly.'

Ezio knelt and looked. The ankle wasn't twisted, but sprained. He lifted Ottaviano on to his shoulders. 'Courage, little Duce,' he said. 'I'll get you both home safe.'

'Can I have a pee first? I really do need to.'

'Be quick.'

Ezio knew it wouldn't be an easy matter to get the children back through the village. It was impossible to disguise them, as they were gorgeously dressed, and in any case by now Bianca's escape would surely have been discovered. He exchanged the gun on his wrist for the poison- blade, putting the wrist mechanism in his pack. Taking Bianca's right hand in his left, he made for the woods that skirted the western side of the village. Climbing a low hill, he was able to look down on Santa Salvaza and saw Orsi troops running in the direction of the watchtower, but none seemed to have deployed in the woods. Grateful for the respite, and after what seemed an age, he arrived with the children back where he had tethered his horse, placed them on its back and got up behind them.

Then he rode back north to Forli. The city looked quiet. Too quiet. And where were the Orsi forces? Had they raised the siege? It didn't seem possible. He spurred his horse on.

'Take the southern bridge, Messere,' said Bianca, in front, holding on to the saddle's pommel. 'It's the most direct way home from here.'

Ottaviano nestled against him.

As they approached the walls of the town, he saw the southern gates open. Out came a small troop of Sforza guards, escorting Caterina and, close behind her, Machiavelli. Ezio could see at once that his fellow Assassin had been wounded. He urged his mount forwards, and when he reached the others, swiftly dismounted and passed the children into Caterina's waiting arms.

'What in the name of the Blessed Virgin is going on?' he asked, looking from Caterina to Machiavelli and back again. 'What are you doing out here?'

'Oh, Ezio,' said Caterina. 'I'm so sorry, so sorry!'

'What's happened?'

'The whole thing was a trick. To lower our defences!' Caterina said despairingly. 'Taking the children was a diversion!'