But while Ezio’s attention was distracted, the thief wrenched himself free and, in a flash, seized his fallen weapon. His desperate eyes met Ezio’s.
“Long live the Borgia!” he cried and thrust thecinquedea firmly into his own breast.
Ezio looked down at the fallen man as he thrashed about in his death agonies.Well, better this death than a slow one at the hands of his masters—Ezio well knew the price exacted by the Borgia for failure. He stuffed the letter into his doublet and made off. Merda, he thought to himself, I was right! And now I have to stop La Volpe before he gets to Machiavelli!
THIRTY-SEVEN
As Ezio made his way across the city, he was accosted by Saraghina, one of the girls from the Rosa in Fiore.
“You must come quickly,” she said. “Your mother wants to see you urgently.”
Ezio bit his lip. There should be time. “Hurry,” he said.
Once at the bordello, he found Maria waiting for him. Her face betrayed her anxiety.
“Ezio,” she said, “thank you for coming to see me.”
“I have to be quick, Mother.”
“There’s something amiss.”
“Tell me.”
“The old proprietor of this establishment—”
“Madonna Solari?”
“Yes.” Maria collected herself. “It turns out that she was a cheat and a liar. We’ve discovered that she was playingil doppio gioco. She had close ties with the Vatican. Worse—several of those still employed here may still be—”
“Don’t worry,Madre. I’ll root them out. I’ll send my most trusted recruits to interview the girls. Under Claudia’s direction, they will soon get at the truth.”
“Thank you, Ezio.”
“We will ensure that only girls loyal to us remain here. As for the rest—” The expression on Ezio’s face was harsh.
“I have other news.”
“Yes?”
“We have word that ambassadors from King Ferdinand of Spain and from the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian, have arrived in Rome. It seems they seek an alliance with Cesare.”
“Are you sure, Mother? What need have they of him?”
“I don’t know,figlio mio.”
Ezio’s jaw was set. “We had better be safe rather than sorry. Ask Claudia to investigate for me. I give her a full mandate to give orders to the recruits I will send.”
“You trust her for this?”
“Mother, after the business with the Banker, I would trust the two of you with my life. I am ashamed not to have done so before—but it was only my anxiety for your safety that—”
Maria held up a hand. “You do not need to explain. And there is nothing to forgive. We are all friends again now. That is what matters.”
“And Cesare’s days are numbered. Even if the ambassadors gain his support, they will soon find it is worthless.”
“I hope your confidence is well-founded.”
“Believe me, Mother, it is. Or will be—if I can save Machiavelli from La Volpe’s misguided suspicion!”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Borrowing a horse from the stables he had liberated, Ezio rode posthaste to the Sleeping Fox. It was crucial that he get there before anything happened to Machiavelli. Lose him, and he’d lose the best brains in the Brotherhood.
Although the hour was not that late, he was alarmed to see that the inn was closed. He had his own key and let himself in through the wicket gate.
The scene that met his eyes told him that he had arrived not a moment too soon. The members of the Thieves’ Guild were all present. La Volpe and his principal lieutenants stood together, busily discussing something that appeared to be of great importance and it looked as though judgment had been reached, since La Volpe, a baleful look on his face, was approaching Machiavelli with a businesslike basilard in his right hand. Machiavelli, for his part, looked unconcerned, seemingly without any idea about what was happening.
“Stop!” shouted Ezio, bursting in on the scene and catching his breath after his headlong ride.
All eyes turned to him, while La Volpe stood rooted to the spot.
“Stay your hand, Gilberto!” commanded Ezio. “I have discovered the real traitor!”
“What?” said La Volpe, shocked, against a background of excited murmuring from his people.
“He is—was—none other than one of your own men—Paganino! He was present at the attack on Monteriggioni, and now I see his mischief in many of our recent misfortunes.”
“Are you sure of this?”
“He himself revealed his guilt.”
La Volpe’s brow darkened. He sheathed his dagger. “Where is he now?” he growled.
“Where no one can touch him anymore.”
“Dead?”
“By his own hand. He was carrying this letter.” Ezio held the sealed parchment aloft.
Ezio passed the letter to La Volpe, and Machiavelli came up as the thieves’ leader broke the seal and opened the paper.
“My God!” said La Volpe, scanning the words.
“Let me see,” said Machiavelli.
“Of course,” La Volpe said, crestfallen.
But Machiavelli was scanning the letter. “It’s from Rodrigo to Cesare. Details of our plans for the French general, Octavien—among other things.”
“One of my own men!”
“This is good news,” Machiavelli said to Ezio. “We can substitute this letter with another. Containing false information—put them off the scent…”
“Good news indeed,” replied Ezio, but his tone was cold. “Gilberto, you should have listened to me.”
“I am once again in your debt, Ezio,” said La Volpe, humbly.
Ezio allowed himself a smile. “What debt can there be amongst friends who trust—who must trust—one another?’
Before La Volpe could reply, Machiavelli put in, “And congratulations, by the way. I gather you resurrected Christ three days early!”
Ezio laughed, thinking of his rescue of Pietro. How did Machiavelli find out about things sofast?
La Volpe looked around at the men and women of the Guild gathered around them. “Well, what are you staring at?” he said. “We’re losing business here!”
Later, after Machiavelli had left to deal with the intercepted letter, La Volpe drew Ezio aside. “I am glad you are here,” he said, “and not just for preventing me from making a total fool of myself.”
“More than that,” said Ezio lightly. “Do you know what I would have done to you, if you had killed Niccolò?”
La Volpe grunted. “Ezio…” he said.
Ezio clapped him on the back. “But all’s well. No more quarrels. Within the Brotherhood, we cannot afford them! Now—what is it you wanted to say to me? Do you have need of my assistance?”
“I do. The Guild is strong, but many of my men are young and untried in any real test. Look at that kid who nicked your purse. Look at young Claudio.”
“And your point is…?”
“I was coming to that. The thieves in Rome generally are also young men and women. Skilled in their trade, sure, butyoung. Prone to rivalries. Damaging rivalries.”
“Are you speaking of another gang?”
“Yes. One in particular that may pose a threat. I need reinforcements to deal with them.”
“My recruits?”
La Volpe was silent, then said, “I know I refused you help when my suspicions of Niccolò were at their height, but now…”
“Who are they?”
“They call themselves the Cento Occhi—the One Hundred Eyes. They are creatures of Cesare Borgia, and they cause us significant trouble.”