“And I’m ready to do it again.”
“You speak like a true Auditore. Forgive me.”
“You needed to test me.”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“As you see, I can take care of myself.”
“I do see.”
Claudia dropped her daggers. She made a gesture toward the treasure chests. “Enough interest for you?”
“I see that you can totally outplay me, and I am lost in admiration.”
“Good!”
Then they did what they’d really been wanting to do for the last five minutes: They flung themselves into each other’s arms.
“Excellent,” said Maria, joining them. “It’s good to see you’ve both come to your senses—at last!”
THIRTY-FIVE
“Ezio!”
Ezio hadn’t expected to hear the familiar voice again so soon. A pessimistic part of him had not expected to hear it again at all. Nevertheless, he’d been pleased to get the note left for him at Tiber Island bidding him to this rendezvous, which he was keeping on his way to the Sleeping Fox, the headquarters of La Volpe’s Thieves’ Guild in Rome.
He looked around, but there was no one to be seen. The streets were empty, even of Borgia uniforms, for he was already in a district reclaimed by La Volpe’s men.
“Leonardo?”
“Over here!” The voice came from a darkened doorway.
Ezio walked across to it and Leonardo dragged him into the shadows.
“Were you followed?”
“No.”
“Thank God. I’ve been sweating blood.”
“Were you?”
“No—my friend Messer Salai watches my back. I’d trust him with my life.”
“Your friend?”
“We’re very close.”
“Be careful, Leo—you have a soft heart where young men are concerned and that could be a chink in your armor.”
“I may be softhearted but I’m not a fool. Now, come on.”
Leonardo pulled Ezio out of the doorway after having first looked up and down the street. A few yards to the right, he ducked down an alleyway, which snaked between windowless buildings and featureless walls for a furlong or so, when it became part of a crossroads with three other alleys. Leonardo took the one on the left, and after another few yards arrived at a low, narrow door, painted dark green. This he unlocked. Both men had to squeeze through the entrance, but once inside, Ezio found himself in a large, vaulted hall. Natural light bathed the place through windows placed high in the walls, and Ezio’s eyes scanned the usual trestle tables, cluttered and crowded with all manner of stuff, the drawings pinned to the walls, the easels, the animal skeletons, the dusty books, the maps—rare and precious, like all maps—the Assassins’ own collection at Monteriggioni had been invaluable, but the Borgia in their ignorance had destroyed the map-room there with cannonades, and so had no use of them themselves—the pencils, pens, brushes, paints, piles of papers…in short, the typical and familiar, and somehow comforting, clutter of Leonardo’s studios wherever Ezio had encountered them.
“This is my own place,” said Leonardo proudly. “As far as possible from my official workshop near Castel Sant’Angelo. No one comes here but me. And Salai, of course.”
“Don’t they keep tabs on you?”
“They did for a while, but I’m good at ingratiation when it suits me and they swallowed the act whole. I rent this place from the Cardinal of San Pietro in Vincoli. He knows how to keep a secret and he’s no friend of the Borgia—”
“And there’s no harm in taking out a little insurance for the future?”
“Ezio, my friend, nothing—but nothing—gets past you! Now, to business. I don’t know if there’s anything I can offer you—there must be a bottle of wine somewhere.”
“Leave it—don’t worry. Just tell me why you sent for me.”
Leonardo went over to one of the trestle tables on the right-hand side of the hall and rummaged underneath it. He produced a long, leather-bound, wooden case, which he placed on the tabletop.
“Here we are!” With a flourish, he opened it.
The case was lined in purple velvet—”Salai’s idea, bless him!” explained Leonardo—and contained perfect copies of Ezio’s lost Codex weapons: there was the bracer for protecting the left forearm, the little retractable pistol, the double-bladed dagger, and the poison-blade.
“The bracer was the biggest problem,” continued Leonardo. “Very hard to get a match for that extraordinary metal. But from what you told me of the accident in which you lost the originals, it might have survived. If you could get it back…?”
“If it did survive, it’ll be buried under several tons of rubble,” said Ezio. “It might as well be at the bottom of the sea.” He slipped the bracer on. It felt a little heavier than the first, but it looked as if it would serve—and very well. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said.
“That’s easy,” replied Leonardo. “With money! But these are not all.” He delved under the table again and brought out another case, larger than the first. “These are new and may come in handy from time to time.”
He opened the lid to reveal a lightweight crossbow with a set of bolts; a set of darts; and a mailed leather glove.
“The darts are poisoned,” said Leonardo, “so don’t ever touch the points with your bare hands. If you can retrieve them from your—ahem—target, you’ll find they are reusable up to a dozen times.”
“And the glove?”
Leonardo smiled. “I’m rather proud of that. It’ll enable you to climb on any surface with ease. Almost as good as becoming a gecko!” He paused, troubled. “We haven’t actually tested it on glass, but I doubt if you’ll ever encounter a surface that smooth.” He paused. “The crossbow’s just a crossbow, but it’s very compact and light. What makes it special is that it’s just as powerful as those heavy things that are now being superseded by my wheel locks—forgive me—and of course the advantage it has over a gun is that it’s more or less silent.”
“I can’t carry these with me now.”
Leonardo shrugged. “No problem. We’ll deliver them. To Tiber Island?”
Ezio considered. “No. There’s a bordello called the Rosa in Fiore. It’s in the rione Montium et Biberatice, near the old forum with the column.”