Oliver Bowden: Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood

There was fierce fighting on the ramparts of the walls, but already hundreds of Navarrese soldiers had got down into the town itself, and the Spanish trumpets were sounding the retreat into the citadel at the center of Viana. The town was as good as retaken for Navarre.

Cesare would be in triumph. His wealthy brother-in-law would reward him richly. No! Ezio would not allow that to happen.

Running along the high wall, ducking and diving among the fighting soldiery, the Navarrese soldiers cutting down the Spanish troops who had been left behind in the retreat to fend for themselves, Ezio located Cesare, cutting his way through enemy troops as a child uses a stick to smash through tall grass. Cesare was impatient to take the citadel as well, and, once clear of the men who had attempted to block his way, he sped down a stairway on the inner wall and through the town, Ezio only seconds behind him.

Ahead of them, the citadel had already opened its doors. All the fight had gone out of the Spanish, and the Count of Lerin was ready to parlay. But Cesare was not a man to parlay.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” he shouted to his troops. With superhuman speed, he ran into the citadel and up the narrow stone staircases within it, cutting down anyone who got in his way.

Ezio still kept pace with him. At last they reached the topmost battlements of the citadel. There was no one there but Cesare, who cut down the flagpole bearing the Spanish flag. Then he turned. There was but one way out, and there stood Ezio, blocking it.

“There is nowhere for you to run, Cesare,” said Ezio. “This is the time to pay your debts.”

“Come on then, Ezio!” snarled Cesare. “You brought down my family. Let’s see how you settle your debts.”

Such was their impatient fury, they closed with each other immediately, man-to-man, using only their fists as weapons.

Cesare got the first blows in and started to cry out in triumph. “No matter what you do, I will conquer all, but first I will kill you and everyone you hold dear. As for me, I cannot die. Fortuna will not fail me!”

“Your hour is come, Cesare,” Ezio replied, slowly getting the upper hand. He drew his sword.

Cesare loosed his own blade in response—and the two men began to fight in earnest. Ezio swung his blade viciously toward his foe’s head, the blade sweeping a lethal flat arc through the air. Cesare was shocked by the speed of the attack but managed to raise his own blade in a clumsy parry, his arm shuddering with the impact. Ezio’s sword bounced away. Cesare thrust with his own attack—his balance and focus regained. The men circled on the parapet—flicking the tips of their swords in swift bursts of exchanged swordplay. Ezio stepped a quick one, two forward—leading Cesare’s blade off to the right and then twisting his wrist forward, aiming the point of his sword toward Cesare’s exposed left flank. Cesare was too quick again – and slapped Ezio’s sword aside. He used the opening to flick his sword at Ezio—who responded by raising his wrist and using the bracer to deflect the blow. Both men stepped back, wary once again. Cesare’s skill as swordsman was clearly not hampered by the onset of the French disease.

“ Pah! Old man! Your generation is finished. It is my turn now. And I shall not wait any longer. Your antiquated systems, your rules and hierarchies—all must go.”

Both men were tiring now. They confronted each other, panting.

Ezio replied, “Your new ones will bring tyranny and misery to all.”

“I know what is best for the people of Italy, not a bunch of old men who wasted their energy fighting to get to the top years ago.”

“Your mistakes are worse than theirs.”

“I do not make mistakes. I am the Enlightened One!”

“Enlightenment comes through years of thought, not through blind conviction.”

“Ezio Auditore—your time has come!”

Cesare drew his sword and swung an unexpected, cowardly blow at Ezio with it, but Ezio was just quick enough to parry, carry through, and, catching Cesare off balance, seize his wrist and wrench the sword from his grip. It clattered to the flagstones.

They were on the edge of the battlements. Far below, Navarrese troops were beginning to celebrate. But there was no looting, for they had regained a town that was their own.

Cesare went for his dagger, but Ezio slashed at his opponent’s wrist with his sword, cutting into it and disabling it. Cesare staggered back.

“The throne was mine!” he said, like a child who has lost a toy.

“Wanting something does not give you the right to have it.”

“What do you know? Have you never wanted something that much?”

“A true leader empowers the people he rules.”

“I can still lead mankind into a new world!”

Ezio saw that Cesare was standing inches from the edge. “May your name be blotted out,” he said, raising his sword. “Requiescat in pace.”

“You cannot kill me! No man can murder me!”

“Then I will leave you in the hands of Fate,” replied Ezio.

Dropping his sword, Ezio seized Cesare Borgia and threw him off the battlements, to plunge down to the cobblestones one hundred feet below.

It was Midsummer Day again—Ezio’s forty-eighth birthday. Ezio, Machiavelli, and Leonardo were gathered in the newly refurbished Tiber Island headquarters, now a proud building for all to see.

“Very small birthday party,” commented Leonardo. “Now, if you had let me design something for you, a real pageant…”

“Save that for two years’ time.” Ezio smiled. “But we have invited you for another reason.”

“Which is…?” asked Leonardo, full of curiosity.

Machiavelli, easing a slightly crooked, but fully healed, shoulder, said, “Leo, we want to extend an invitation to you.”

“Another one?”

“We want you to join us,” said Ezio solemnly. “To become a fellow member of the Brotherhood of the Assassins.”

Leonardo smiled gravely. “So—my bombs were a success!” He was silent for a moment, then said, “Gentlemen, I thank you, and you know that I respect your goals and will support them as long as I live; and the secrets of the Assassins I will never disclose to anyone.” He paused. “But I tread a different path, and it is a solitary one. So forgive me.”

“Your support is almost as valuable as your becoming one of us. But can’t we persuade you, old friend?”

“No, Ezio. Besides, I am leaving.”

“Leaving? Where are you going?”

“I shall return to Milan, and then I am going to Amboise.”

“To France?”

“They say it is a noble country. It is there I choose to end my days.”

Ezio spread his hands. “Then we must let you go, old friend.” He paused. “This, then, is a parting of the ways.”

“How so?” asked Leonardo.

“I am returning to Florence,” replied Machiavelli. “My work there is far from done.” He winked at Ezio. “And I still have that book to write.”

“What will you call it?”

Machiavelli looked levelly at Ezio. “ The Prince ,” he replied.

“Send Claudia back to me.”

“I will. She misses Rome, and you know she’ll support you as long as you continue your work as Mentor of the Brotherhood.”

Machiavelli glanced at the water clock.

“It is time.”

The three men rose as one and embraced each other solemnly.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Mario Auditore: Ezio’s uncle and head of the Brotherhood of the Assassins

Ezio Auditore: Assassin

Maria Auditore: Ezio’s mother