Oliver Bowden - Assassin's Creed - Renaissance

'This Herald and his boss are really cashing in on the febbre di fine secolo,' said Teodora. 'For all I know, they believe in it themselves.'

'I think they must do,' said Ezio. 'The danger is, that with the Apple in their hands, they may actually bring about a world disaster that has nothing to do with God, and everything to do with the Devil.' He paused. 'But for the moment they have not unleashed the power they have, and thank God for that, for I doubt if they would know how to control it. For the moment at least they seem content to foretell the Apocalypse - and that -' he laughed bitterly, '- has always been an easy sell.'

'But it gets worse,' said Teodora. 'Indeed, you might almost believe that the Apocalypse were really at hand. Have you heard the bad news?'

'I have heard none since I left Forli.'

'Lorenzo de' Medici has died at his villa in Careggi.'

Ezio looked grim. 'That is indeed a tragedy. Lorenzo was a true friend to my family and without his protecting hand I fear I may never recover the Palazzo Auditore. But that is as nothing compared with what his death may mean to the peace he maintained between the city-states. It was always fragile at the best of times.'

'There is more,' said Teodora, 'And it is, if anything, worse news even than Lorenzo's death.' She paused. 'You must brace yourself for this, Ezio. The Spaniard, Rodrigo Borgia, has been elected Pope. He rules the Vatican and Rome as the Supreme Pontiff, Alexander VI!'

'What! By what devilry - ?'

'The Conclave of Rome has only just ended - this month. The rumour is that Rodrigo simply bought most of the votes. Even Ascanio Sforza, who was the most likely candidate standing against him, voted for him! Four mule-loads of silver was his bribe, they say.'

'What profits him to be Pope? What is it he seeks?'

'Is such great influence not enough?' Teodora looked at him. 'Now we are in the power of a wolf, Ezio. The most rapacious, perhaps, the world has ever seen.'

'What you say is true, Teodora. But the power he seeks is even greater than that which the Papacy will give him. If he controls the Vatican, he is that much closer to gaining access to the Vault; and he is still on the trail of the Apple, the "Piece of Eden" he needs to give him - the power of God Himself!'

'Let us pray that you get it back into the hands of the Assassins - Rodrigo as Pope and Master of the Templars is dangerous enough. Once he has the Apple as well.' She broke off. 'As you say, he will be indestructible.'

'It's odd,' said Ezio.

'What is?'

'Our friend Savonarola doesn't know it, but he has two huntsmen chasing him.'

Teodora conducted Ezio to the large open square in the industrial quarter of Venice where the Herald was wont to conduct his sermons, and left him there. Ezio, his hood up and his face lowered but watchful, blended in with the crowd that was already gathering. It wasn't long before the square was packed, the mob thronging around a small wooden stage on to which a man now stepped, an ascetic-looking man with cold blue eyes and hollow cheeks, iron-grey hair and gnarled hands, dressed in a plain grey woollen robe. He started to speak, pausing only when the mad cheers of the crowd obliged him to. Ezio saw how skilfully one man could work hundreds into a state of blind hysteria.

'Gather, children, and hear my cry! For the End of Days draws nigh. Are you ready for what is to come? Are you ready to see the Light my brother Savonarola has blessed us with?' He raised his hands, and Ezio, who knew exactly what light the Herald was referring to, listened soberly. 'Dark days are upon us,' continued the Herald, 'But my brother has shown me the path

forward unto salvation, unto the heavenly light that awaits us. But only if we are ready, only if we embrace him. Let Savonarola be our guide, for he alone knows what is to come. He shall not lead us astray.' Now the Herald leant forward earnestly on the lectern before him. 'Are you ready for the final reckoning, brothers and sisters? Whom shall you follow when the time comes?' He paused again for effect. 'There are many in the churches who claim to offer salvation, the summoners, the pardoners, the scatterbrained slaves of superstition. But nay, my children! They are all in thrall to the Borgia pope, all in thrall to "Pope" Alexander, the sixth and most mortgaged of that name!'

The crowd screamed. Ezio, inwardly, winced. He remembered the apparent prophecies he had seen the Apple project in Leonardo's workshop. Somewhere in the distant future: a time when hell would truly be unleashed upon the earth - unless he could stop it.

'Our new Pope Alexander is not a spiritual man; he is not a man of the soul. Men like him buy your prayers and sell your benefices for profit. All the priests of our churches are ecclesiastical merchants! Only one among us is a true man of the spirit, only one among us has seen the future, and spoken with the Lord! My brother, Savonarola! He shall lead us!'

Ezio thought: had that mad monk opened the Apple, as he had himself? Had he unleashed the same visions? What was it Leonardo had said about the Apple - unsafe for weaker brains?

'Savonarola shall lead us to the light,' the Herald was concluding. 'Savonarola shall tell us what is to come! Savonarola shall carry us to the front door of heaven itself! We shall not want in the new world that Savonarola has borne witness to. Brother Savonarola walks the very path to God we have been seeking!'

He raised his hands again, as the mob yelled and cheered.

Ezio knew that the only way to find the monk was through this acolyte. But he had to find a way to reach the man without arousing the suspicions of the devoted crowd. He made his way forward cautiously, acting the role of the meek man seeking conversion to the Herald's flock.

It wasn't easy. He was jostled aggressively by people who could see he was a stranger, a newcomer, a person to be regarded with reserve. But he smiled, bowed, and even, as a last resort, threw money down, saying, 'I want to give alms to the cause of Savonarola and those who support him and believe in him.' And money worked its usual charm. In fact, Ezio thought, money is the greatest converter of them all.

At last the Herald, who'd observed Ezio's progress with a mixture of amusement and contempt, bade his minders step aside and beckoned to him, leading him to a quiet place, a little piazzetta off the main square, where they could have a private conversation. Ezio was pleased to see that the Herald clearly thought he'd made an important and wealthy new addition to his flock.

'Where is Savonarola himself?' he asked.

'He is everywhere, brother,' replied the Herald. 'He is at one with all of us, and all of us are at one with him.'

'Listen, friend,' said Ezio, urgently. 'I seek the man, not the myth. Please tell me where he is.'

The Herald looked at him askance, and Ezio clearly saw the madness in his eyes. 'I have told you where he is. Look, Savonarola loves you just as you are. He will show you the Light. He will show you the future!'

'But I must talk to him myself. I must see the great leader! And I have great riches to bring to his mighty crusade!'

The Herald looked cunning at that. 'I see,' he said. 'Be patient. The hour is not yet come. But you shall join us in our pilgrimage, brother.'

And Ezio was patient. He was patient for a long time. Then, one day, he received a summons from the Herald to meet him at the Venice dockyards at dusk. He arrived early and waited impatiently and nervously, until finally he saw a shadowy figure approaching through the evening mists.

'I was not sure you would come,' he greeted the Herald.

The Herald looked pleased. 'The quest for Truth is passionate in you, brother. And it has withstood the test of time. But now we are ready, and our great leader has assumed the mantle of command he was born to. Come!'