"You're safe here."

"With you, you mean?"

The attendant smiled. "I could protect you-if the need arose."

"I bet you could." She looked at the box. "My, what a fine chest you have there."

"It isn't mine."

"Oh-but you are holding it in those strong arms of yours. What muscles you must have!"

"Want to touch them?"

"My goodness! But what would I tell the priest in Confession?"

By now they had arrived at an ironbound door flanked by two guards. Ezio watched as one of them knocked. A moment later, the door was opened and a figure in the red robes of a cardinal appeared in the entrance, with an attendant similarly dressed to the first.

"Here is the money you were expecting, Your Eminence," said the first attendant, handing the box to the second.

Ezio drew in his breath, his suspicions confirmed. The Banker was none other than Juan Borgia the Elder, Archbishop of Monreale and Cardinal-Priest of Santa Susanna. The selfsame man he had seen in Cesare's company at Monteriggioni and in the stable yard at the Castel Sant'Angelo!

"Good," said the Banker. Black eyes glittered in a sallow face. He was eyeing the girl, who still stood close to the first attendant. "I'll take her, too, I think."

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him. He looked levelly at the first attendant. "As for you-you are dismissed."

"Onoratissima!" said the girl willingly, snuggling up to the Banker as the attendant tried to control the expression on his face. The second attendant disappeared into the room beyond the door and it closed behind him as the Banker led the girl back into the party. said the girl willingly, snuggling up to the Banker as the attendant tried to control the expression on his face. The second attendant disappeared into the room beyond the door and it closed behind him as the Banker led the girl back into the party.

The first attendant watched them go, then gave a resigned sigh. He started to leave, but then stopped, patting himself down. "My coin purse! What's happened to it?" he muttered, then he looked in the direction the Banker had gone with the girl. They were surrounded by laughing guests, among whom agile servants moved with silver trays loaded with food and drink. "Oh, shit!" he said to himself and made his way back toward the front doors. As he passed through them, the doors closed behind him. Evidently all the guests had arrived. Ezio watched him go and thought, If they continue to treat people like that, I should have no trouble at all in mustering all the new recruits I need. If they continue to treat people like that, I should have no trouble at all in mustering all the new recruits I need.

Ezio turned and pushed his way through to a position close to the Banker. At that point a herald appeared on a gallery and a trumpeter blew a short fanfare to make silence for him.

"Eminenze, Signore, Signori," announced the herald. "Our esteemed lord, and guest of honor, the Duke of Valence and Romagna, Captain-General of the Papal Forze Armate, Prince of Andria and Venafro, Count of Dyois, and Lord of Piombino, Camerino, and Urbino-His Grace Messer Messer Cesare Borgia-is about to honor us with an address in the great inner chamber!" Cesare Borgia-is about to honor us with an address in the great inner chamber!"

"Come on, my dear-you shall sit near me," the Banker said to the courtesan from the Rosa in Fiore, his bony hand snaking around her buttocks. Joining the press of people that now moved obediently through the double doors leading to the inner chamber, Ezio followed. He noticed that the other two girls were not far away, but now they sensibly ignored him. He wondered how many other allies his sister had managed to infiltrate into this gathering. If she succeeded in all he had asked her to do, he would have to do more than eat humble pie, but he also felt proud and reassured.

He took a seat on an aisle near the middle of the assembly. Papal guards lined the edges of the room, and another row stood in front of the dais that had been erected at one end of it. Once everyone had settled, the women fanning themselves, for the room was hot, a familiar figure in black strode onto the dais. He was accompanied, Ezio noticed, by his father; but Rodrigo simply took a seat behind him. To his relief, Lucrezia was nowhere to be seen, though she must have been released from her cell by now.

"Welcome, my friends," said Cesare, smiling a little. "I know we all have a long night ahead of us..." And he paused for the laughter and scattered applause..."But I will not detain you long...My friends, I am honored that the Cardinal-Priest of Santa Susanna has gone to so much trouble to help me celebrate my recent victories..."

Applause.

"...And what better way shall I have to mark them than by joining in the brotherhood of Man? Soon, soon we will gather here again for an even greater gala, for then we shall be celebrating a united Italy. Then, then, my friends, the feasting and the revelry will last not one night, or two, or even five, six, or seven-but we shall spend forty forty days and nights in celebration!" days and nights in celebration!"

Ezio saw the Pope stiffen at this, but Rodrigo said nothing, did not interrupt. The speech, as Cesare had promised, was a short one, amounting to a list of the new city-states brought under his sway and a vague outline of his plans for future conquests. When it was over, amid loud shouts of approval and applause, Cesare turned to go, but his way was blocked by Rodrigo, clearly struggling to suppress his fury. Ezio made his way forward to listen to the terse conversation that had started, sotto voce, between father and son. As for the other revelers, they had begun to drift back to the main hall, their minds already on the pleasures of the party ahead.

"We did not agree to conquer all Italy," Rodrigo was saying, his voice full of spite.

"But, caro padre caro padre, if your brilliant captain-general says we can do it, why not rejoice, and let it happen?"

"You risk ruining everything! You risk upsetting the delicate balance of power we have worked so hard to maintain!"

Cesare's lip curled. "I appreciate all that you have done for me, of course, caro padre caro padre. But do not forget that I control the army now, and that means that I am the one who makes the decisions." He paused to let his words sink in. "Don't look so glum! Enjoy yourself!"

With that, Cesare walked off the dais and through a curtained door to one side. Rodrigo watched him go for a moment, then, muttering to himself, followed.

Strut as much as you like for now, Cesare, thought Ezio. thought Ezio. But I'll pluck you down. In the meantime, your Banker must pay the price for his involvement with you. But I'll pluck you down. In the meantime, your Banker must pay the price for his involvement with you.

Putting on the air of any other party guest, he sauntered in the direction the others had gone. During the speech, the main hall had been transformed-beds and couches were placed around it under heavy canopies, and the floor had been covered with damask cushions and thick Persian rugs. Servants still passed among the guests, providing wine, but the guests had now become more interested in one another. All over the room, men and women were shedding their clothes, in pairs, threesomes, foursomes, and more. The smell of sweat rose with the heat.

Several women and not a few men, some not yet engaged in the fun and games, gave Ezio the eye, but few paid any serious attention to him as he made his way, using the columns of the room as cover, toward the Banker, who had now shed his biretta, his magnificent ferraiolo ferraiolo, and his cassock to reveal a spindly figure in a white cotton shirt and woolen long johns. He and the courtesan were half sitting, half lying on a canopied couch set in an alcove, more or less hidden from the view of the rest of the guests. Ezio drew near.

"And are you having a pleasant evening, my dear?" the Banker was saying, his gnarled hands fiddling clumsily with the stays of her dress.

"Yes, Eminenza Eminenza. Indeed I am. There is so much to look at!"

"Oh, good. I spared no expense, you know." His lips slobbered over her neck. He bit and sucked, moving her hand lower.

"I can tell," she replied, her eyes meeting Ezio's over the Banker's shoulder and warning him to stay back-for the moment.

"Yes, sweetheart-the finer things in life make power so rewarding. If I see an apple growing on a tree, I simply pluck it. No one can stop me."

"Well," said the girl, "I suppose is does depend a bit on whose tree it is."

The Banker cackled. "You don't seem to understand, my dear-all the trees are owned-by me!" the trees are owned-by me!"

"Not mine, dearie!"

The Banker drew back a little, and when he spoke again, frost had crept into his voice. "On the contrary, tesora tesora; I saw you steal my attendant's purse. I believe I've earned a free ride for your penance. In fact, I'm taking a free ride that'll last all night long!"

"Free?" Ezio hoped the girl wasn't pushing her luck. He glanced around the room. The few guards were stationed around its perimeter at intervals of perhaps fifteen feet. None was near. The Banker, on his own ground, was clearly sure of himself. Maybe too sure.

"That's what I said," replied the Banker, the ghost of menace in his tone. Then a new thought struck him. "Do you have a sister, by any chance?"

"No-but I have a daughter."

The Banker considered this. "Three hundred ducats?"

"Seven."

"You drive a hard bargain, but-done! A pleasure doing business with you."

THIRTY-THREE.

The evening wore on. Ezio listened to the voices around him-"Do it again!" "No, no-you're hurting me!" "No, you can't do that. I won't allow it!"-and all the sounds of pain and pleasure-the pain real, the pleasure simulated.

The Banker was not running out of steam, unfortunately, and lost patience with his fumbling and started to tear the girl's dress off her. She still implored Ezio with her eyes to hold his ground. "I can handle this!" she seemed to be saying to him.

He looked around the room again. Some of the servants and most of the guards had been inveigled by the guests to join in the fun. He noticed people wielding wooden and ivory dildos and little black whips.

Soon...

"Come here, my dear," the Banker was saying, pushing the girl back down onto the couch and managing to straddle her, pushing himself into her. Then his hands closed around her neck and he started to strangle her. Choking, she struggled, then fainted.

"Oh, yes! That's nice!" he gasped, the veins in his neck bulging. His fingers tightened around the girl's neck. "This should increase your pleasure. It certainly increases mine!" A minute later he had finished and lay heavily on her body, slipping on their sweat, catching his breath.

He had not killed the girl. Ezio could see the rise and fall of her chest.

The Banker clawed his way to his feet, leaving her prostrate form half on and half off the couch.

He snapped out an order to a pair of servants, still on duty nearby: "Get rid of her!"

As the Banker moved toward the main orgy, Ezio and the servants watched him go. As soon as he was at a safe distance, and otherwise occupied, the servants lifted the girl gently onto the couch, placed a carafe of water near her, and covered her with a fur rug. One of them noticed Ezio. Ezio put a finger to his lips. The man smiled and nodded. At least there was some good in this fetid hellhole.

Ezio shadowed the Banker as he pulled up his long johns and moved from group to group, muttering his appreciation like a connoisseur in an art gallery.

"Oh, bellissima bellissima," he would say from time to time, stopping to watch. Then he made for the ironbound door he'd originally appeared from and knocked on it. It was opened from within by the second attendant, who'd almost certainly been spending all that time verifying the new accounts.

Ezio didn't give them a chance to close the door behind them. He leapt forward and his impetus pushed both men back inside. Ezio closed the door and faced them. The attendant, a little man, now in his shirtsleeves, burbled and fell to his knees, a dark stain flowering between his legs. Then he fainted. The Banker drew himself up.

"You!" he said. "Assassino! But not for much longer." His arm snaked out to a bellpull, but Ezio was quicker. The hidden-blade sprang out and slashed through the fingers of the hand the Banker was extending. The Banker snatched his maimed hand back as three fingers scattered onto the carpet. "Stay back!" he screamed. "Kill me and it'll do no good! Cesare will never let you live! But-" But not for much longer." His arm snaked out to a bellpull, but Ezio was quicker. The hidden-blade sprang out and slashed through the fingers of the hand the Banker was extending. The Banker snatched his maimed hand back as three fingers scattered onto the carpet. "Stay back!" he screamed. "Kill me and it'll do no good! Cesare will never let you live! But-"

"Yes?"

The man's face became sly. "If you spare me..."

Ezio smiled. The Banker understood. He nursed his ruined hand.

"Well," he said, though tears of pain and rage were starting in his eyes, "at least I have lived. The things I have seen, felt, tasted. I regret none of them. I do not regret a moment of my life."

"You have played with the trinkets power brings. A man of real strength would be contemptuous of such things."

"I gave the people what they wanted!"

"You delude yourself."

"Spare me!"

"Your own debt is due, Eminenza Eminenza. Unearned pleasure only consumes itself."

The Banker fell to his knees, mumbling half-remembered prayers.

Ezio raised the hidden-blade.

"Requiescat in pace," he said. he said.

He left the door open when he departed. The orgy had declined into sleepy, smelly groping. One or two of the guests, supported by servants, were vomiting. Another pair of servants was carrying out a corpse-it had all evidently been too much for someone's heart. There was no one left on guard.

"We are ready," said a voice at his elbow. He turned to see Claudia. Around her, around the room, a dozen girls detached and disentangled themselves and stood. Among them, dressed again and looking shaken but otherwise determined, was the girl the Banker had molested so vilely. The servants who had helped her stood by her. More recruits.

"Get out of here," said Claudia. "We'll recover the money. With interest."

"Can you-?"

"Just-just this once, trust me, Ezio."

THIRTY-FOUR.

Though his mind remained full of misgivings about leaving his sister in charge, Ezio admitted to himself that he had, after all, asked her to do this job for him. A lot hung on it, but he had better do as she'd said, and trust her.

It was cold in the small hours of the new day, and he pulled his hood up as he slipped past the dozing guards posted outside the Banker's palazzo, where the torches had burned low and the house itself, no longer so brilliantly lit from within, seemed grey, old, and tired. He toyed with the idea of going after Rodrigo, whom he hadn't seen since his furious departure from the dais after Cesare's speech-and Cesare himself had clearly not chosen to stay at the party-but he put the notion to one side. He wasn't going to storm the Vatican single-handed, and he was tired.

He returned to Tiber Island to clean up and refresh himself, but he didn't linger over it. He had to find out, as soon as possible, how Claudia had fared. Only then would he be able truly to relax.

The sun was appearing over the horizon, turning the rooftops of Rome gold as he skimmed over them in the direction of the Rosa in Fiore. From his vantage point, he saw a number of Borgia patrols running about the city, in a state of high excitement and agitation, but the brothel was well hidden, and its location was a respected secret among its clients-they certainly wouldn't want to be answerable to Cesare if he got wind of it-so Ezio was not surprised to find no mulberry-and-yellow uniforms in its vicinity. He dropped down to a street not far away and walked-trying not to hurry-toward the bordello.

As he approached, he tensed. Outside, there were signs of a struggle, and the pavement was stained with blood. Drawing his sword, and with a pounding heart, he made his way through the door, which he found ajar.

The furniture in the reception room had been overturned and the place was a mess. Broken vases lay on the floor, and the pictures on the walls-tasteful illustrations of the juicier episodes in Boccaccio-were askew. But that was not all. The bodies of three dead Borgia guards lay in the entrance, and there was blood everywhere. He was making his way forward when one of the courtesans-the selfsame girl who had suffered so much at the hands of the Banker-came to greet him. Her dress and hands were covered in blood, but her eyes were shining.

"Oh, Ezio-! Thank God you're here!"

"What's happened?" His thoughts flew to his mother and sister.

"We got away all right-but the Borgia guards must have followed us all the way back here-"

"What's happened?! happened?!"

"They tried to trap us inside-to ambush us."