Oliver Bowden: Renaissance

"I met him, Messer. He was one of us… for a while.

– What next?

The Abbot shrugged.

"I suggest you take a long rest in a hermitageta of the mountains. No… did not fit quite right here…

"I think, Abbe it is quite possible that his time as erMitan finished. Do you know where I could have gone?

"Oh, poor me… "The abbot tried to remember-. If you have left the shrine, could have returned to Santa Maria del Carmine, in Florence. It was there that he studied. Maybe he is back there.

Ezio sighed with relief.

"Thank you, abbot. Go with God.

A Ezio it was strange to return to his hometown after such a long time. There were many memories to face. But the circumstancescircumstances dictated that further work alone. Could not contact even with his former friends and allies, for fear of alerting the enemy.

He saw immediately that although the climate in the city was remaining stable, church, or at least he was walking busCando, was plunged into chaos. A monk had just left it running scared.

Addressed to the monk.

"Easy, brother. Is everything OK?

The monk is stared at him with eyes wide open.

"Stay away, man. If you value your life into something!

– What's here?

– The Roman soldiers just walked into our church! The brothers have scattered, ask questions that make no sense. They keep telling us to give them fruit!

– What kind of fruit?

– Apples!

– Apples? Diavolo! Rodrigo has come before me! Ezio said between his teeth and almost to himself.

– There have been one of my fellow Carmelites at the sameback of the church you! I'm sure you think to kill him!

– Carmelites? Are not Dominicans?.

Ezio left the brother and carefully surrounded the walls of Santa Maria, not detached from them. He moved as quietly as the mongoose that is facing a cobra. When he reached the garden walls of the church, climbed to the roof. And despite all the expertiseCIA had given him the years, quand he saw left him breathing downtion. Borgia Several guards were giving him a beating to a monje cast your vote. He was about thirty-five years.

– Sing!Shouted the leader of the guards-. Sing or I'll hurt so wish you had not born! Where is the Apple?

– Please! I do not know! I do not know what you're talking!

The leader of the guards moved closer to him.

– Confess! Your name Savonarola!

– Yes! I told you! But stop and hit me!

"So, tell us and your suffering will cease. Where the hell is the Fruit of Eden? "The interrogator gave him a powerful edgefoot in the crotch. The monk gave a scream of pain-. I do not think it will make a huge difference for a man always in the position of missionary like you, "sneered the guard.

Ezio looked on with great concern. If that was monk Savonarola, Borgia bullies end up killing him before he managed to get the truth.

– Why do you keep lying to me?"Continued the guard. A my Master will not like at all I've learned that Icho torture you to death! Are you trying to get into problems?

– I I have no apples, "sobbed the monk-. I'm just a simple monk. Let me go please!

– By my balls!

– I do not know nothing! The monk cried pitifully.

"If you want to stop," shouted the guard, driving the other pointswall in the same place- Tell me the truth, brother Girolamo… Savonarola!

The guard kicked him again and told his followers it agarraran by the ankles and dragged along the ground mercilessly adomachine, his head bouncing painfully on the hard stones. The monk shouted and struggled in vain.

– Have you had enough,abominato!"The chief of the guards turned to approach him-. So you are prepared to meet with your Creator that you lie over and over again to see her?

"I'm just a simple monk," cried the Carmelite, whose habit was dangerously cut and color similar to that of the dominantNicos-. I have no fruit of any kind! Please…

The guard kicked him. In the same place. Again. The monk's body writhed in agony was beyond tears.

Ezio had enough. Jumped suddenly, a ghost for revenge, and for once, by pure rage, using the dagger is simultaneouslyNenos and double-edged dagger. After a minute of carnage, the thugs of Borgia, in full, lay dead, or immersed in the same agony they had caused, on adoquitions of the court.

The monk was caught crying Ezio knees.

"Grazie, grazie, salvatore.

Ezio stroked his head.

"Calm, calm. And is all sorted out, brother. -Ezio monk looked at his fingers.

The ten fingers were intact.

"You have ten fingers," he murmured, disappointed despite himself.

"Yes," cried the monk-. I have ten fingers. And I have more apples than the market brought to the monastery every Thursday! She stood up, shook and swore-: In the name of God! Does the world has lost sense?

– Who are you? Why I hcaught an you?Ezio asked.- Because I found that Savonarola name! But why should I betray my cousin before these thugs?

– Do you know what you have done?

– I know nothing! He is a monk, like me. Or preferred theden of the Dominicans, which is harder, yes, but…

– Have you lost a finger?

"Yes, but how could you…? The look of the monk gave intender beginning to understand what happened.

– Who is Girolamo Savonarola? Ezio insisted.

"My cousin, a devout man of God. What which, as per melimits may ask, who are you? Although I must thank humilityI've rescued insane and I know that you can ask me any favor.

"I… I have no name, "said Ezio. But let me please tell me yours.

Marcello-Fra Savonarola, the monk replied meekly.

Ezio noted. His head ran at full speed.

– Where is your cousin Girolamo?

Marcello The monk began to think, fighting his withscience.

"True, my cousin… has a unique vision on how to serve God… Preaches his own doctrine… Now you might inget it in Venice.

– So what are you doing there?

Marcello straightened.

"I think going down the wrong path. He preaches hellfire. States see the future. -Marcello looked Ezio with bloodshot eyes, with agonized eyes. If you really want to know my opinion, I think vomit crazy!

Ezio had the feeling of having wasted too much time in what seemed a fruitless search. Chasing Savonarola was like chasing a will-o', a chimera, your own queue. But the search had to continue, inexorably, for that manber God nine fingers was in possession of the Fruit of Eden, the key to access to much more than I could imagine, and it was a dangerous religious maniac, a true brainless potentially less controllable than the Maestro, Rodrigo Borgia, in person.

It was Theodora who came to greet him when he landed in the gallery in the docks of Venice, from Ravenna.

In 1492, Venice was still relatively straightforward under the rule of the Doge Agostino Barbarigo. The city seethed with the news that Venice had rejected the mad plans of a Genoese sailor named Christoff Corombo of sailing west to cross the Ocean Sea, apparently, the sailor had found the financial support of Spain and was about aboard. Hasbria was Venice which had committed the folly of not eligibleNAR issue? If Corombo it succeeded, there would be a safe sea route to the Indies that you avoid the traditional routetion and topsoil now blocked by the Ottoman Turks. But the head of Ezio was so crowded with other matters that could not pay much attention to those issues and trade policy.

"We received your news," said Theodora. But are you sure? "It's the only track I've got, and I feel good. Isam sure that the Fruit of Eden is back here in your hands of the monk Savonarola. I have been told that preaches to the masses sober the fire of hell to come.

"I've heard of him.

– Do you know where I could find, Theodora?

– No. But in the neighborhood of the crafts I have seen a Herald calling crowds, preaching that pile of nonsense sober the fire of hell of which you speak. Maybe he is a discipleabout your monk. Come with me. Be my guest while permanezcas here and once you are installed, go directly to the place where this man preaches his sermons.