Chapter 38

Donato tugged on the fingers of one of his gloves, shrugging off the second skin. He wiped his now bare hand across his forehead. To his surprise, it felt clammy. His heart also felt heavy in his chest as he noticed his breath had become shorter. Adrenaline perhaps? "No..." he grunted to himself. This was something deeper. He felt... sorrow. He even dared to use the word guilt. But why? This woman was the enemy, and yet, something had been gnawing away at his mind ever since the moment he laid eyes on her. He did his best to dismiss the matter and trust that justice had been served.

The evil shall be judged and pay for their crimes, and the strong and righteous will live to restore balance.

This law had always been his guide all the years he served his master. So why now, did he feel he had failed? Why now, did he feel as though his own judgment had suddenly taken a turn for the worst? He pulled his glove back on by the wrist as the loud creaking of the door beside him made him stand up straight. His master appeared before him with his helmet tucked underneath his arm, as if he were trying to hide it. For just a flash of an instant, he swore he saw a glint of splattered blood upon it.

"So... did she confess sir? Did our intimidation expose the truth?" the captain cleared his throat.

"I got what I was after," Salvatore tucked something away into his pocket, raising a questioning brow from his apprentice.

"But... did she admit to her crimes? Did she confess that it was the assassin's who created the plague?" he pushed.

"Captain, go to my study and see that Rodrigo Borgia is comfortable. I'm sure the Grand Master is growing impatient." The patriarch ignored Donato's questions as he smugly grinned to himself. "Be sure to tell him everything is going as planned. We are very close now to the end."

"...of course... but sir... what of the woman?"

Suddenly annoyed, his master gave an exasperated sigh, "What does it matter to you? The criminal of war has been dealt with, so let us leave it at that. I would hate to think that the traitor used her mind tricks to question your reason."

Donato's eyes flashed in panic for a brief moment, his master's threat was loud and clear, "No... no sir. I was simply asking for sake of efficiency. I wanted to make sure-"

"Captain... I do believe I gave you an order just a moment ago. Did I not?"

Donato could feel a drop of cold sweat crawl slowly down his neck. Something had gone terribly wrong. "Yes sir." was all he could mutter.

"Good lad," the Patriarch grinned. "And Captain..." his master looked back over his shoulder with an icy stare. "Don't ever question me. Again."

The floor was cold and damp as Alcina coughed on the oxygen racing back into her lungs. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She looked at her hands front to back, shocked to find that all her scars, cuts, and bruises had been erased as though she had been made new. She checked for the gash that had blossomed across her face from the impact of the helmet, but her skin was smooth and without blemish. The voices were gone from her head as were so many fears she had once had. Alcina had returned from death and was ready for her vengeance.

Each step echoed louder in his ears as he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword out of forced habit. Donato began to feel a terrible wave of emotion as he fought back the thoughts of the woman. The fear in her eyes as she gazed upon him. But there was more... was it hope? Love? Forgiveness? No one had ever looked at him that way before. He quietly exhaled a deep breath to calm his nerves.

What had his master done? Was she dead? If that was the case, then there was no sense in worrying about her, or about anything she had said. Besides, she was the enemy, and therefore a liar. He raised his chin in pride. He was an officer after all, one of the chosen few to stand beside the Grand Patriarch of the Knights Templar. Their cause was the right one, and the assassins were their enemies. Donato suddenly realized his heart didn't believe a single word he was telling himself.

He began to allow his thoughts to dive deeper with questions against his better judgment. Who had she been? Why did her voice sound so familiar? Why did she somehow bring his loneliness comfort when he was around her? And why, above all else, could he not forget her? Maybe it was those eyes, and how he could just feel her terrified and pained stare in the back of his head as he turned to leave. He began to curse himself for doing so. But why? Why did he feel as though he had betrayed his heart? And why did he suddenly feel this overwhelming sense of fear and even doubt in the man who had raised him? Yes... something was terribly wrong.

Before he realized it, he had reached his destination. With a courteous knock, he slowly swung open the wooden doors. The room inside was made of stone, but had two beautiful glass windows. The walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves and elegant tapestries of the Templar cross. Every free space was adorned with some sort of item or artifact from Templar victories and triumphs. It all looked rather silly in his opinion, as none of it matched the ugliness of the cold walls. But the coldest object slouched silently in a red and gold chair, fiddling with a large ruby ring on his pinky. The Grand Master always intimidated him, especially since he had been ordered never to speak to him. He was always to remain silent by his master's side. This would be the first time he confronted such high ranking leadership on his own.

The Spaniard wore dark robes depicting his wealth and status but it also conveniently matched his morose demeanor.

Donato nodded his head and raised a fist to his chest in respect. "My master sends his pardons. He will be joining us soon."

"Us? ... I was not aware Salvatore allowed his stray dog to sit in on important meetings regarding the grand counsel." the snake hissed.

Donato was unaffected by the insult as he blinked slowly. "Apologies," was the only response he could summon.

"Be sure to remind your master that I do not like waiting. I am to leave for Roma within the hour, and should I be late... let us just say, someone will have to do much more than apologize."

"Forgive me for overstepping grand master, but perhaps you should stay. We are doing our best to contain the sickness plaguing the area, but it is difficult to control with so many coming and going." Donato must have been out of his mind for speaking to his command in such a way.

The grand master snickered to himself. "Ah yes... the 'sickness'". He braided his fingers together and crackled them with a sickening twist. "Tell me boy, how loyal are you to your master Salvatore?" He grinned to himself as if preparing to tell some kind of wicked joke.

Donato was taken aback by the sudden question, sensing it may be a test of honor. "I... I would die for him." The Spaniard flicked his bejeweled fingers forward, coaxing him to try again. Clearing his throat Donato continued, "He is like a father to me. He found me and raised me as his own when my family cast me aside."

"Ahh..." the Spaniard pursed his lips against his bridged fingers as if to ponder. "I am told you have a certain, well, ability." He smiled, "Tell me of that."

The soldier swallowed as quietly as possible as he felt his palms grow clammy once again. He was already hating this discussion. "I'm not... not entirely sure where it comes from Grand Master. I can see things... things that have happened. I also believe that I can see things that are still to come. At least, I believe that's what it is. But my master has trained me to control it and suppress the visions and the voices."

"Visions? Voices?" The grand master cut in. Feeling his cheeks become hot, Donato nodded, ashamed. "I see," Rodrigo held up a dark glass of red wine and swirled it before taking a sip. "Boy. Do you believe everything your master tells you?"

A twinge of defensive irritation crinkled Donato's forehead. "I do. He is a man of honor. Why would he lie?"

"Why would he lie?"

Shit. That was obviously the wrong thing to say.

"What I mean is, my Lordship, is that I trust my Master."

"I see. Boy did you ever hear the tale of the mad doctor in Firenze? Or did the voices not tell you that story?" Donato shook his head with a stern expression. He wasn't easily offended. He knew how insane it sounded and he knew that no one would understand the hell he had been through.

Rodrigo swirled his wine glass again and stared into the crimson liquid, the fire place glowing in it's reflection. "The doctor was a genius," he muttered, "He was trusted and sought after by all. He had every remedy for every illness. A miracle healer. But what the people didn't know, was he was merely gaining the people's trust for his own personal gain. Trust that would soon help him become the richest man in all of Firenze. One year, a strange plague overcame the city, much like the one lurking outside these walls. People were becoming ill, predominantly the children. So the citizens fled to him, begging him for his wares and knowledge. But what they didn't know, was that his medicine was nothing more than simple poison all along, disguised as a remedy. He had done nothing more than slowly, skillfully, and oh so quietly poison them... little by little. One by one; leaving them with no other option than to come crawling back to his door for more." The grand master couldn't help but smile at the confusion on the soldiers face. "Families would beg him to save their poor children. His diagnosis would always be grim, and the cost of his services would then go higher. But, the patients paid everything they had for the sake of their loved ones. In the end, they gave their trust, their money and all their common sense away in exchange for more poison. You see boy... there never was plague. Nor will there ever be an antidote. Once you create panic, humans become nothing more than dumb, blind animals. And as they tremble amid their own growing chaos, they look to the ones with power. They look for the few who rise above this chaos. It may take a little poison... but eventually every single one of the sheep will fall in line. That is how order begets chaos. You see, humans desire that constant need to satisfy their oldest instinct, and that is to be controlled. One simply needs to infest the herd with a little panic, and the wolves will reign."

Donato's eyes grew large as a chill danced along his spine and swept between his shoulders. "I... I don't understand..." he denied.

Another nasty grin took a strong taste of wine, "I simply want to know which are you. Are you one of them... a mindless sheep, or are you smart enough to be a wolf?"

Without realizing it, Donato's hands had bawled into nervous fists as his throat bobbed with a knot. Was he simply toying with him and trying to get a rise out of him? Or was there some kind of hidden message in his story? "What are you up to you snake..." he twisted over in his mind. A sudden push of the door startled him.

The Patriarch entered cooly, the fresh blood having been washed away from his hands. "I trust that you are comfortable Grand Master," he smiled a charming grin.

"Enough of the pleasantries. Do you have any idea how long I have been waiting."

"Apologies master, but I can assure you the matter was worth the extra attention."

Donato suddenly felt glaring eyes on him, practically pushing him out the door. "Tell your servant to leave us. You and I have important business to discuss." Rodrigo stretched his arms out across the length of the chair, smirking with distaste as the Patriarch shot his captain an urgent glance.

Donato formally nodded before taking a step backward and out of the room. The floor felt like it was spinning as he propped himself up against the now closed door. What had always seemed to certain and secure in his life was now full of doubt and was crumbling beneath him.

His body went limp as his back slunk against the door to the chamber. "Please no, not again..." he whispered to no one. He couldn't stand the mental anguish of being alone, lost and unwanted. Why had the Grand Master's story bothered him so much. What was this feeling nagging at the back of his mind, scratching away like a dirty fingernail.

"So that is your little pet..." he could hear the two muffled voices of the Templar hierarchy from beyond the door.

He attempted to straighten himself up and walk as far away as possible, but was overtaken by a dizzying sensation, as a voice from somewhere in his mind whispered, "You're gonna wanna hear this..."

He gasped aloud as if he had been struck by the touch of a ghost. "No... not the voices again..." His frantic hands clambered over his ears and head. He tried to order his feet to walk away, but the whisper in his head and cold grip on his gut told him to stay. Something in his blood burned for answers and he could no longer fight it. He rested the back of his head against the wooden barrier and quieted his own beating heart as much as possible.

"The boy has proven useful time and time again. You'll remember, it was because of him that we found the sacred artifacts. It was thanks to his connection to the Pieces of Eden."

"I don't care how useful a lunatic is, they're still a mad animal on a leash. It sickens me to think we resort to using the insane to finish the job."

Donato's heart felt the slightest pain of vulnerability, this heart feeling like a crack spreading across fragile glass. Would his master defend him? He was the only father he ever knew, surely he would defend him as if he were his only son. No one else had ever wanted him or wanted anything to do with him because of his madness, but surely his Master would take a stand.

The Patriarch continued, "I understand your hesitation, but I can assure you that his usefulness is nearly at an end. When I found the child, I had no idea how useful his visions would be. It was pure luck really. When our grand revolution began against the Assassin's in Firenze nearly ten years ago, the boys father had been one of the brotherhood hierarchy along with his partner Giovanne Auditore-"

"Yes, but you did not finish the job! Both Enzo and Giovanne's children have joined forces with the Assassin brotherhood and have been picking us apart. Do you have any idea how many Templar leaders have been slain by those two because of your arrogance and incompetence?"
There was a pause before he continued, "Yes Grand Master, a necessary evil I'm afraid. Those men knew the dangers of our mission. But we have the upper-hand in this war. We now have three pieces of Eden secured and we have all the necessary pieces ready to open the vault. Now is the time to strike."

"And what of the Assassin's? I understand you captured your pet's sister and the last Auditore boy."

"Yes indeed we have. The little bitch has been dealt with." Donato felt his breath catch, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Apparently she had the same sight as her brother. Something in their bloodline must be linked to the Precursor race, it's fascinating. I will send one of our men of science to analyze the walls of her cell. She used her own blood to write messages unlike any script or symbols I had ever seen-"

"You are rambling Salvatore, I do not have time for this small talk."

"Apologies Grand Master. Forgive my manners. The Pieces of Eden are ready for transport for your trip to Roma."

"Where are they?"

"... My lord?"

"Don't play games with me. Where are the Pieces of Eden?"

"They-they were here. I don't understand..." Donato could hear panicked shuffling of feet across the floor. "Damnit the window! There has been a thief!" The doors swung open leaving Donato fumbling to his feet and face to face with his master. For a painful moment he locked cold eyes with The Patriarch, both of them suddenly aware that he had heard the entire conversation. The glare of betrayal was evident from both parties, but Salvatore had more important matters at hand.

"You bastard, You said the Assassin's had been handled! You said the woman was dead! Now the artifacts are gone because of your neglect to finish the job." Rodrigo Borgia yelled and spat with rage. "I am leaving, and you better have retrieved those artifacts so help me God. If not for your work with obtaining the artifacts in the first place, you would be long dead and buried. Now finish the job! This entire operation disgusts me!" With a great shove he barreled past Donato as a crowd of guards came running toward the sound of commotion.

"Captain, after her!" the Patriarch commanded, the open windows of the office swung in the blustering wind marking the silent entry point and escape of the thief.

"You... you lied to me. All this time... you lied-" Donato stammered.

"You were always so damn weak! I will do it myself!"

The broken captain crumbled to his knees as the man that had been his only alley sped away toward the flailing window. The once cracking glass of Donato's resolve splintered and burst as he felt every sharp fragment sting within his heart and chest. A gust of freezing wind carried specks of perfectly clean and silken snowflakes across the room and onto the crimson rug causing them to wilt and melt before the raging fireplace. The beautiful ice crystals came and went like the sharp and gentle breath of the ever present angel of death.