reluctant admission, had Pietro laid on a table covered with a palliasse in the doctor's consulting room, from whose beams a baffling number of different dried herbs hung in organized bunches, giving the room a pungent smell. On shelves, unidentifiable or unmentionable objects and creatures and parts of creatures floated in glass bottles filled with cloudy liquid.
Ezio ordered his men outside, to keep watch. He wondered what any passersby might think if they saw a bunch of Roman soldiers. They'd probably think they were seeing ghosts, and run a mile. He himself had shed his Pharisee outfit at the first opportunity.
'Who are you?' murmured Pietro. Ezio was concerned to see that the actor's lips had turned blue.
'Your savior,' said Ezio. To the doctor he said, 'He's been poisoned, Dottor Brunelleschi.'
The doctor examined the actor quickly, shining a light into his eyes. 'From the pallor, it looks like they used canterella. Poison of choice for our dear masters, the Borgia.' To Pietro, he said, 'Lie still.'
'Feel sleepy,' said Pietro.
'Lie still! Has he been sick?' Brunelleschi asked Ezio.
'Yes.'
'Good.' The doctor bustled about, mixing a number of fluids from bottles of variously colored glass with practiced ease and pouring the mixture into a vial. This he handed to Pietro, propping his head up.
'Drink this.'
'Hurry up,' said Ezio urgently.
'Just give him a moment.'
Ezio watched anxiously. After what seemed an age, the actor sat up.
'I think I feel slightly better,' he said.
'Miracolo!' said Ezio in relief.
'Not really,' said the doctor. 'He can't have had much, and for my sins I've had quite a bit of experience with canterella victims-it's enabled me to develop this pretty effective antidote. Now,' he continued judiciously, 'I'll apply some leeches. They will lead to a full recovery. You can rest here, my boy, and very soon you'll be as right as rain.' He bustled some more and produced a glass jar full of black, wriggling creatures. He scooped out a handful.
'I cannot thank you enough,' said Pietro to Ezio. 'I-'
'You can thank me enough,' replied Ezio briskly. 'The key to the little gate you use for your trysts at the Castel Sant'Angelo with Lucrezia. Give it to me. Now!'
Misgiving appeared on Pietro's face. 'What are you talking about? I'm simply a poor actor, a victim of circumstance-I-'
'Listen, Pietro: Cesare knows about you and Lucrezia.'
Now misgiving was replaced by fear. 'Oh, God!'
'But I can help you. If you give me the key.'
Mutely, Pietro delved into his loincloth and handed it over. 'I always keep it with me,' he said.
'Wise of you,' said Ezio, pocketing the key. It was reassuring to have it, for it would guarantee him access to the Castel whenever he had need of it. 'My men will fetch your clothes and get you to a place of safety. I'll detail a couple to keep watch over you. Just keep out of sight for a while.'
'But…my public!' wailed the actor.
'They'll have to make do with Longinus until it's safe for you to put your head above the parapet again.' Ezio grinned. 'I shouldn't worry. He isn't a patch on you.'
'Oh, do you really think so?'
'No question.'
'Ouch!' said Pietro, as the first leech went on.
In the wink of an eye, Ezio had disappeared outside, and there gave the necessary orders to his men. 'Get out of those costumes as soon as you can,' he added. 'The Baths of Trajan aren't far. With any luck, your street clothes will still be where you left them.'
He departed on his own, but he hadn't gone far when he noticed a figure skulking in the shadows. As soon as the man felt Ezio's eyes on him, he cut and ran. But not before Ezio had recognized Paganino, the thief who'd been determined to stay behind at the sack of Monteriggioni.
'Hey!' Ezio shouted, giving chase. 'Un momento!'
The thief certainly knew his way around these streets. Ducking and diving, he was so adroit that Ezio all but lost him in the pursuit and more than once had to leap to the rooftops to scan the streets below in order to locate the man again. Leonardo's magical glove came in surprisingly handy at such times, he found.
At last he managed to get ahead of his prey and cut off his line of escape. The thief went for his dagger, an ugly-looking cinquedea, but Ezio quickly wrested it out of his hand and it clattered harmlessly to the pavement.
'Why did you run?' asked Ezio, pinioning the man. Then he noticed a letter protruding from the man's leather belt pouch. The seal was unmistakable: It was that of Pope Alexander VI-Rodrigo-the Spaniard!
Ezio let out a long breath as a series of suspicions fell into place. Paganino had long ago been with Antonio de Magianis's Thieves' Guild in Venice. He must have been offered enough money by the Borgia to persuade him to switch sides and had infiltrated La Volpe's group here-the Borgia had had a mole at the heart of the Assassins' organization all along.
Here was the traitor-not Machiavelli at all!
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 the cinquedea 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 playing il 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,
