28 - Strategist

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

August 10, 1503

Roma, Italy

Catherine held out her arms wide, smile bright, "Leonardo!"

"Catherine, my dear!" the artist exclaimed, embracing his friend tightly. She did the same, laughing with delight. He pulled away to regard her warmly, cupping the side of her face in his hand. "Ah, you look absolutely radiant today!"

"Oh, you're such a flirt," she teased. "Besides, I'm hardly picture worthy now with these scars."

"And you are too humble. You are beautiful, Catherine, and if I must have Ezio come convince you I will!"

"Don't worry, he does every chance he gets. Besides, you're here to come see the kids, not butter me up. Diana's missed you and I want Mario to get to know you more, too. He's smart—and very creative already. Oh, and there's someone else you need to meet, too. A new member of the family."

"'New member'? Were you with child and did not tell me?" he inquired, taking her arm in his as she made up the nearby stairwell.

The redhead laughed, "No, definitely not. It's more of an... adoption. Sort of. He helped me when I was a prisoner of the Borgia, and he helped look after Mario. I asked him to come with me when we rescued my son and the others, but he refused at that point, so I told him to send word if he ever wanted out. He did just not long ago, and now he's here, a part of the Brotherhood. It's been about a week now."

"Wait—is this... no, no... you could not... er... Catherine," Leonardo frowned, his puzzlement palpable. He gestured, "Is this... person a... child?"

She laughed again, "Yes, we he is. Hold on, you'll see."

The artist raised a brow as the redhead lead him to the children's rooms. She knew they'd all be in Diana and Mario's shared chambers—Giovanni was the one right next door—and so only knocked to let them know she was coming and pushed the door open. She left her friend there at the entrance, waltzing right on in. The young trio were sat upon the bed, showing off yet another book the younger Mario. Both Diana and Giovanni enjoyed reading to him and teaching him the words and even to write. They liked to learn how to fight together, too, although Mario was still too young for that, but Giovanni was as eager to master the moves as her daughter had. They made quite the pair in training, and if it wasn't known the older boy was a Borgia, anyone would have thought they were all siblings.

"Guess who's here?" she called out, and all three looked up. Diana gasped with delight and rushed over, practically tackling the artist.

"Leeeeooooooo! I missed you! It has been too long! You cannot stay away for months! It is not nice!" she pouted, tugging on his shirt.

The artist chuckled, patting her head, "My apologies, my dear. I do not mean to. My, ah, 'employer' keeps me busy."

"Oh! You—you are the man Papa asked to make things for him," Giovanni suddenly spoke, and Catherine saw Leonardo make a strange face, his expression torn between realization and perhaps worry.

"And you are... Giovanni. Borgia," he replied, glancing to the redhead, whom smiled. "I... Goodness, I admit I am very surprised to see you here."

"As am I... I did not know you were an Assassin, too," the young man went on, coming forward to stand closer and bowed his head. "It is good to see you are well. Papa always spoke highly of you."

"Yes, I suppose he would... My goodness! Catherine, what on Earth?"

"Remember the story I told you? Well... Giovanni was who it was about. Don't worry. He's safe here, and he's training to become one of us—just like Diana. It was the least I could do."

"I will become strong and help fight against my Papa. He is not a good man, Sir da Vinci. And I wish to protect Mario. So, I will fight."

"You are very brave then, Giovanni. I wish you all the best," Leonardo smiled, touching his shoulder gently. He looked to Diana after, smiling warmly, "You grow every time I see you. You look more like your mother every day, too."

She beamed, "Good! I am going to be as strong as Mama one day! And Papa, too!"

"Speaking of... where is Ezio? I thought he would be here. I had some of the new equipment he wanted, and I hoped to hear news of the War Machines."

"Don't worry, he's on the way back. He was visiting Maria and Claudia briefly. And, yes, he has good news—the flying machine is destroyed."

"Oh, excellent! Well then... I suppose I should do what I came here for and see if Diana here would like to have another art lesson?" the older man inquired, and the young girl's eyes lit up.

"Yes! I love your lessons! Giovanni, you, too! Leonardo is the best! And we must teach Mario! He will love it, too!"

"Go ahead. I need to see to the recruits' missions anyways. Giovanni, do you want to stay and learn, too?" Catherine inquired, meeting the young man's gaze.

He thought for a moment before nodding, "I do. Sir da Vinci has very nice work. I would not mind learning."

"Then I will see to them for a while—I have a few hours before I must return," Leonardo nodded back. He glanced to the redhead, "The usual place?"

"Yep. We make sure to keep the study stocked with materials for practice. Anyways, you guys have fun alright? Take care of your little brother," Catherine chuckled as she set Mario onto the ground and gave him a quick kiss on the head. She gave Diana the same, and ruffled Giovanni's hair playfully. "And if they get a little out of hand, just come get me, Leo. I'll wrangle them in line."

"I appreciate it. Now, go on," the artist grinned, and Catherine left them be.

She sauntered her way back down to the main floor—her friend and children would follow soon enough—and then made for the basement. She'd left her recruits training while she greeted her long-time friend, and so was glad to see them still hard at work. As it stood, she has about ten in-training, and close to twelve working in Roma at the moment. She had even more spread around Europe and even in India working in various Orders. Of her originals, only Piero and Giotto remained. The others had spread off into other parts of Italia to establish more branches, and now new members here took their place. Occasionally her former recruits—now Masters themselves—sent men and women to her to train, but mostly they found willing denizens throughout the city.

Regardless, the Order was thriving, and she almost couldn't believe it. Yet, here she was, watching them spar with swords and fists, and they were doing good. Very good.

It made her wonder what Mario would think—what the man who forged her into the Assassin she was say? Would he be proud? Would he commend her? Or would he condemn? The notion haunted her at times, but in these moments, she was sure he was happy with what they had done.

Her students paused when she came to her viewing spot, but she waved them on. She missed nothing; every punch and kick was noticed; every slash and dodge was observed; every slip and triumph was seen. Her students were strong and brave and worthy of taking up the Assassin mantle. The Order would thrive under them, and she was honored to be their teacher.

"Well, well... quite the smile on your face."

Catherine chuckled as she turned to find her husband suddenly near her, but not so much so she noticed him right away. He'd taken that up lately—surprising her. She enjoyed it, of course, and happily gave him a "hello" kiss as he settled in beside her. A few of the recruits paused to glance at the "Head" of the Order. Her husband was rather famous after all he'd done, even if the recruits did their part, too. Still, it was Ezio who did most of the big kills and went off to destroy Cesare's army. Her Ezio was doing a special kind of good in the world, and she was honored to support him, and—sometimes—help him directly. Ever since the Banker's death she'd felt more ready to return to proper Assassin work, but not just yet. The Banker was a good test, but it was still a test. She'd need to pass more trials before she was truly ready.

"They're doing well. We'll have more inductees soon... and Leonardo got to meet Giovanni. They're learning art as we speak."

"That's good to hear. Did you tell Leonardo about his creations?"

She nodded, "Yep. He's happy—and he has gifts for you. But wait until after he's done with the kids. They could use a break, and I think he could, too."

"I think we could use a break," he snickered, arm reaching over to pat her rump playfully. She gave him a look, but laughed, too.

"Maybe later. Right now we have to be proper adults," she hummed and motioned to the recruits. "I'll probably send those on the right on missions soon... maybe even send some to England for Jacopo and Alessandra. They're doing okay, but more couldn't hurt."

"Do what you think is right—you've got this business down."

"What can I say? I managed you and Diana—and now Mario. I think I can manage some Assassin business."

"'Managed' me? Tsk. You're asking for trouble you know."

She grinned, "I know. Anyways, how's your side of things?"

"Well you know about the War Machines... Claudia and Mother are doing well, although they're keeping low after the attack. Mother is a bit... worried. Or she seems like it. Tired, too. She was about to retire to bed when I visited, anyways. I think everything is just wearing down on her, but she's keeping strong. Volpe hasn't said much. He's still... not at ease with Machiavelli, but he has no proof of his concerns. He keeps me updated on Borgia movements. And Bartolomeo... well, truth be told I have not heard from him lately. Giovanni is alright, I know—he makes sure to send pigeons to Claudia, so I imagine things are alright."

"Uh, you sure?" Catherine inquired, having caught sight of movement at the stairs. She pointed to the approaching figure of the very nephew her husband spoke of. He didn't look hurt, but his expression was grim. Ezio turned, and his shoulders slumped. Catherine touched his arm gently before looking to her recruits, "Keep at it, you lot! We'll be back in a bit and you better be going as hard as you can!"

There were a few groans of protest, but they soon became grunts of exertion as the recruits went back to it. Things all set, Catherine followed her husband and nephew towards a back room in the lower floor. There Giovanni's face grew darker, and he even let out a deep sigh that made his shoulders sag weakly.

"Uncle... Aunt... Bartolomeo needs help."

Ezio 's brows furrowed, "What do you mean? I thought things were going well?"

"Against the Borgia—yes. But... the problem is the French. They're growing increasingly difficult, and, though he will never admit it, the Commander is losing. He will lose if we don't do something different, but he's so damned stubborn! I'm worried, so... I was, well, hoping you two could come and talk sense to him. I barely managed to get away—and even now I'm worried being gone so long. The French have been attacking us off and on so much that we always have to be prepared," he spilled, shoulders going lower and lower as the weight on them grew heavier and heavier. Ezio grasped one of the burdened shoulders gently, giving a similarly gentle smile. It helped—albeit only a little, but it still helped.

"Don't worry, Nephew. We'll speak with Bartolomeo and get to the bottom of things—perhaps turn the tide."

"Best let me give him the stern talking. He'll take it as insult from you two," Catherine hummed, shaking her head. "I'm surprised his wife hasn't been urging him to change tactics."

"He's had her staying at a safer place outside the barracks, but she does send letters. Although, they've been less as of late. That, or he's just not taking them at all. I think he sent for her to come back to the barracks, though—to keep her better protected."

Ezio rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Well, we cannot do much here. Catherine, go ahead and end training for today... and bring some of our master Assassins. We may need them."

"We have five here at the fortress as it stands, but I'd like to bring a few of the recruits who are almost done training. They can prove if they're ready or not," the redhead nodded, then turned her gaze to the young man before them. "We'll meet you by the stables. Oh, and go say hello to Diana and Mario—she's missed you. And you can meet our other Giovanni."

The young Auditore raised a brow, "Will do. Although, I hope I'm not being replaced."

"Hardly, my boy!" Ezio laughed, clapping his back. "You'll always be me favorite 'Giovanni', now go on. We'll see you soon."

His nephew chuckled back—it was hardly genuine—with a nod and trotted off, leaving the two Assassins alone. They exchanged looks before the redhead sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Well, looks like things are getting a bit complicated. You sure I should come along on this one? We may end up taking out our French general it sounds like."

Ezio chuckled, "Of course. But do you think you should come along?"

The redhead grew quiet, mulling on the question. Should she come along? She'd not faltered against the Banker, and he had been a major target. Surely, she could do it again? But what if she couldn't? What if she stepped back instead of forward?

In the end, she smiled with a half-laugh. Mario has always told her she thought too much—as had others—and even in death he was right. There was no knowing an answer unless she moved to grab it herself, and she would never get better if she cowered away. So, she looked to husband, nodding.

"Yes, I'll come. You'll need someone covering your ass anyways—since you'll have to watch Bartolomeo's."

"Indeed I will! Not the one I want to watch, though," he laughed before stealing a kiss. "Well then, let's get going. Time to visit an old friend a visit..."

-O-

Things were not going well.

The cannon fire and sounds of fighting reached them long before they came to the compound that was Bartolomeo's Barracks. It didn't look as good as the last time she'd been here, which had probably been months with how busy she'd been. The walls were worn down and, in some places, cracked or broken—no doubt by cannons. The main building within looks alright, but it was still worrisome. The sight of haggard mercenaries was even more so, and seeing Bartolomeo pacing with sword drawn at the open gate only made it worse.

Catherine shared a look with her husband and then Giovanni as they dismounted outside the gate. Her Assassins she'd brought with her did the same, waiting diligently for a command. The redhead bade them stay put while she and her family came closer. If she hadn't been worried yet—which she was—she definitely was when the mercenary commander spun as he heard their steps and thrust his blade at them.

"Who goes there!?" he snapped, voice edgy.

Ezio held out a hand for peace, "Hello to you, too."

"Ezio!" he exclaimed, his demeanor flipping as he sheathed his sword. His grin widened at the sight of the redhead, "Ah, and my Lady! Good to see you—and Giovanni! I was wondering where you went."

"What's with the anxiousness?" the redhead inquired, gesturing.

The burly man scowled, although more-so out of stubbornness as he answered, "I was expecting my wife."

"Sir, I went to my Uncle and Aunt to seek their help—against the French," Giovanni bowed respectfully, and although Bartolomeo's scowl deepened and he muttered a curse at the younger man, he did not disavow the action. Rather, he sighed after a moment and regarded the two Assassins dourly.

"The French whores have us under pressure."

"Giovanni said as much," Catherine noted, glancing to her nephew. This time, Bartolomeo didn't make anything of it.

Ezio stepped closer to his old friend, "Tell me about their general, this Baron de Valois?"

"Cesare persuaded King Louis to lend him an entire army to defeat me. I'm flattered."

"Too bad you're already spoken for," the redhead mused, earning chuckle.

"Not that I would accept. The Baron is an ugly piece of shit!" he barked with a bit of his usual gusto.

"Sir, I was thinking we could let them know where the Baron is—to help," Giovanni pressed, and though Bartolomeo gave him a look he only waved a hand as if to dismiss it.

"No need. It's only a matter of time before I have Valois by the throat. We have them in retreat."

A gunshot rang out, smacking into the nearby stone rampart and taking off a decent chunk. Outside, she heard a sound of surprise—one of her recruits nearly struck by the debris. Catherine looked to the commander, brow raised very, very high.

He again waved a hand, "The situation is under control—"

"Close the gates!" came a shout from the other side of the courtyard.

Bartolomeo grinned, almost sheepishly, "Okay, so maybe I could use a little help."

"'A little' he says," Catherine sighed and turned to her recruits. "Alright, you lot! Time to get to work. We have Frenchmen coming, so get in here and help! Ezio, you want to take the gates or me?"

"I'll be able to work the gear faster. You keep them off me. Giovanni, you have Bartolomeo?"

He nodded, "Of course. Let's show these French fuckers what it means to mess with Auditore!"

The French charged only moments later. There were at least three sets of troops, but they were ready. With Assassins combined with Mercenaries, it was a victorious battle. Her recruits thinned the herd as they came and provided smoke bombs to dilute their senses, leading them straight into the fray of mercenary weapons that cut them down. Ezio, meanwhile, took it upon himself to lower each gate with Catherine right at his side, striking down any Frenchman who managed to get too close. In the end, the battle only took minutes and casualties were kept to the enemy ranks. Her own had some cuts and scrapes and even bruises, but they lived. A few mercenaries suffered heavy wounds, which they might survive, and so were either kept close for another wave to fight or inside the Barracks to be tended to.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Ezio mused, coming up beside his wife and the recruits. Bartolomeo and Giovanni had begun to make their way over when another call came from across the courtyard.

"The Baron de Valois signals from the gate!"

"Well, that can't be good," Catherine grumbled as she, and the others, raced over. Sure enough, their target sat atop his steed at the head of a French battalion. Unlike his soldiers, he was clad in bright, glimmering gold in the setting sunlight, and even from far away she could feel his arrogance—like a bad taste in her mouth.

"Bonjour, general d'Alviano. Are you ready to surrender?" he spoke, and she was mildly surprised she understood it all. Her French had gotten pretty good since starting her endeavor with her Assassins, but it wasn't nearly as fluent. She imagined the Clock, even broken, provided some translation. It wasn't perfect like before, except for Italian, but she understood enough.

"Why don't you come closer and say that!?" Bartolomeo barked back.

The baron switched to Italian, rather well, too, "You must learn how to speak French. It would mask your barbaric sensibilities. "

"Perhaps you could teach me, and I would instruct you in fighting since you seem to do so little of it!"

"As amusing as this parley has been, I'd like your unconditional surrender before

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net