Instinct Assassins

Punishment from Miguel wasn’t something Acario had dreaded originally. He was excited to see what punishment was held for him that was different from his mother’s. But, after the first one, he dreaded anything coming from his mouth after we was in trouble. Sitting in his room, head on his arm as he rested them on the window sill, he blinked lazily at the sky, which was becoming deeper as the day progressed. Breathing slowly, he hadn’t expected to be punished like this, but I guess Miguel felt slightly sorry for him. He hadn’t fitted in so well this week, he had messed up more ways than one when it involved the Pazzi. But Veiri had gone slightly too far this time, and Miguel was going to have to deal with it.

Before he could think of a way to get Veiri back, he heard his name being called. Rubbing his eyes tired, he slipped off his bed and walked out of his room, walking down the corridor, passing a few servants on the way. He heard the low talk of a familiar voice, but passed it off as something else. Entering his Uncle’s study, he soon remembered that voice. Uberto Alberti, the Gonfaloniere, was speaking to his Uncle, but why? There wasn’t any need for extra guard duties, let alone any to be trained. Sleeking towards the door, he knocked lightly until he heard his Uncle’s voice to allow him in. Opening the door, he heard Alberti’s voice hiss, but he thought of something else.

He bowed to him, unaware of the watchful glare Miguel was giving Alberti, which meant that he wasn’t here for idle chat.

“You called me Uncle?” he said, slowly rising up.

“Yes, after your little mission from Giovanni, I want you to see if you can assist him further. I don’t have any need with you, just stay out of direct trouble, your giving me a headache with the amount of mischief you cause,” he said, returning his gaze onto him, eyes filled with emotions that Acario couldn’t pin point, they were all squashed together.

“Uh yes, of course Uncle,” he said quietly, turning to leave when Alberti spoke to him.

“Be careful out there Acario, it’s a very difficult time these days, be wary of your surroundings,” he said, this little amount of advice just passing through Acario’s ears like one of Miguel’s lectures.

Walking out of the room, he could hear his Uncle’s angered voice, despite it being soft and raspy. Turning briefly, Acario moaned and walked down the corridor, passing the apprentice servants, who giggled and hid their eyes as they passed. Ignoring them, he stretched himself, before opening the door and walking into Ezio. Crashing into him, he rubbed his head and looked up, dazed. Ezio looked a little frantic, like something had happened.

“Ezio, what’s wrong?” Acario asked, curiosity hidden well behind his tone.

“Nothing, I just had to race here and retrieve you. Padre needs you for something,” he said, literally out of breath.

Making a very low growl, Acario followed Ezio, winding their ways through the slightly darkened streets.

“How were your little errands?” Acario asked, knowing he had spent most of the day in trouble.

“Had to help with the family, retrieve a message and send out letters,” he said, sounding a little drowned.

“And I thought I got off easy,” Acario remarked, passing the Duomo, noticing how late it really was, “Oh, I overheard your Madre commissioned an artist?”

“Oh, Messer Leonardo da Vinci, Si, she did,” he muttered off, not wanting to continue on the subject.

Acario understood clearly, when Ezio wanted to drop the subject, he usually did it. They rounded the corner to the Auditore Palazzo. Sniffing the air, Acario perked up, looking around, sensing the quietness. Lowering his head, he watched the crowds carefully. Frowning, he followed Ezio carefully. Hearing him call out to his family, he entered through the door, before he made a grunted sound, turning around; he saw it was only his maid, who seemed a little frantic. Narrowing his sight, he entered after Ezio, cautious.

Looking around, everything was torn, art pieces, books thrown to the floor and Acario could smell the faintest scent of blood. Scowling at the scene, he looked up to see Ezio’s sister and mother, looking slightly shaken.

“Oh Ezio, they took father, and Federico and Petruccio. Mother tried but she’s,” Ezio’s sister, Claudia, tried to explain through a shaky voice.

Ezio didn’t look too pleased and turned to Acario. Nodding, he left the room and walked out onto the streets, ignoring the stares from passersby. He growled occasionally, telling them to continue them with what they were doing. Before long, he watched his family walk out into the streets, closely guarded by Annette. A heavy atmosphere dropped on Acario, noticing something was amiss.

“Well?” Acario asked simply.

“Palazzo Vecchio,” Ezio said, racing towards the destination.

Blinking with surprise, Acario followed, panting half ways, trying to keep up. He had wondered where Ezio had got the sudden burst of speed but Acario was too concerned by the guards, who seemed to watch them closely. Despite his position in the society of Florence, Acario had no real power of the Guard like his Uncle, but some influences were given to him just enough that he could control them to a point. And right now, he needed them more than anything.

Breaking off from Ezio, he sprinted into side streets, organizing a few guards to be replaced to the Duomo. Time was short, and the sun was escaping quickly. Finding no easy way around it, he tore off entirely and headed to his Uncle’s palazzo, hoping to get some answers. The cobbled streets made his sprinting hard, but he was keeping his grip somehow. Breathing heavy and off, he called out for someone to open the door. It opened, and he raced through, almost crashing into someone before leaping up the stairs in wide bounds.

Reaching his Uncle’s room, he knocked quickly, bending over, heaving for breath. It opened and his Uncle stepped out, a confused look on his face.

“Acario, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve been hit by a stampeding herd of horses, or chased by one” he said, resting his hand on his back.

“Audi.... Florentine... Palazzo Vecchio,” he panted, trying to get his words out.

“Easy Acario catch your breath will you, no use talking when you’re like this,” he said, getting him to straighten out.

“Giovanni Auditore, and his two sons, Federico and Petruccio, was taken to the Palazzo Vecchio by the Florentine Guards. Ezio’s gone to see if he can get to them,” he said, breathing easy again, but still panting.

“What? Cazzo, this isn’t good. Did you manage to assemble guards away from his path?”

Nodding, Acario staggered and grabbed one of the chairs, steadying himself, trying not to fall. He wasn’t used to running such a distance and getting tired easily. He was faster than Agiles yet he was more flustered then a heavy weighted person. Miguel watched his nephew closely and frowned.

‘Now of all times,’ he growled and told him to sit down. Acario did it obediently and tried to recuperate.

Leaving him to rest up, Miguel walked down the steps, instructing the servants to take care of Acario with his problems, and gave a particular servant some well given information to keep her eyes on him, in case anything in particular happened. As he left to leave, he heard the cry of Acario and ignored it, closing the door behind him and heading towards the a pigeon coop. Leaping onto a stack of crates, his flexibility allowed him to instantly pull in some shock absorption and jump onto the rooftops, which weren’t so wet like they were of a morning.

Walking along the tiles, he couldn’t help but wonder why Giovanni was seized by the Guard, especially with the rank his family held in the city. Reaching the pigeon coop nearby the Palazzo, he retrieved a note from his pouch and let a pigeon hop onto his arm, cooing softly.

“To Naples and quickly damn it, I don’t have much time inform her highness with this message,” he spoke softly; tying it around its leg and letting it fly off.

Watching it leave silently, his gaze shifted to the Palazzo and he glowered. Climbing down the wall, he walked up to the gates, noticing the heavy number of guards. It was difficult since he wasn’t in control, but he would be. Miguel called to a Captain, ordering him to survey the area to a larger scale. Once most of the guards had left, he spied Ezio, watching him closely.

‘Careful Ezio, I might have cleared some guards from spying you, doesn’t mean others won’t be able to see you,’ he whined, keeping his gaze on him, ‘And I don’t want to have to use anything necessary to assist you.’

After a few moments, Ezio had leapt from the tower down. Miguel had kept his distance, until he was safe, mostly. It was still a concern, and he knew he’d had to send someone; he’d make sure it was someone trustworthy, but now Miguel’s real concern was Acario.