Assassin's Creed Chronos_Retribution (Ezio x OC)

10 - We Build Then We Break

April 24, 1500

Rome, Italy

True to Volpe's word, Bartolomeo soon returned to his barracks, a former base for any mercenaries in Roma, but now was home to the burly, exuberant man and his troops. The Assassin had received word from the thieves, and set out the same morning to meet with his old comrade. He had last seen him in Roma during their assault, and before that had been when he stopped by while moving to this city from Venezia—back when Diana was only a few years old. At first he'd only come here to fight, but now it seemed the move was permanent, which Ezio was grateful for. He needed an ally such as Bartolomeo d'Alviano by his side once more. The man was a fighter unlike any other, and his loyalty, once earned, would not be broken. His troops were quite the boon as well.

Ezio reached the barracks before mid-morning, dismounted his horse just outside the walls, at the bottom of the incline that led to the entryway. The establishment wasn't terribly impressive and looked in need of repair—it seemed many places his allies were to use were, much to his amusement and annoyance—but it looked strong. Sturdy, too. A good place for mercenaries, whom, if he were hearing right, already training hard in the courtyard. Sure enough, he found various groups of men hacking at dummies or sparring with one another all along the outside of the main building. It rose up a few stories, certainly much higher than the walls around it, which were tall to begin with. There were outposts at strategic locations along the wall, and with only one proper entrance, it would be easy to waylay enemy troops. Truly, Bartolomeo had chosen wisely.

The Assassin rapped three time on the door hidden under an archway and was greeted by the familiar face of his old comrade, who gave him the widest grin he'd ever seen.

He spread his arms out in welcome, elated, "Ezio Auditore! Come in, come in. I'll kill you if you don't!"

"Bartolomeo!" Ezio laughed with his friend, and the two embraced. They had fought too long and in too many battles together to not do so. Once parted, the man's eyes suddenly widened almost as much as his grin, and he gestured for the Assassin to pause.

"Wait here. You have to meet my wife!" he laughed before turning and headed towards the stairs in the back of the room. "Pantasilea! Pantasilea! Hmm... where is she?"

"Did you check behind the table?" Ezio smirked, motioning to the furniture that was, per the swordsman taste, set in an odd position. The rest of the room wasn't all that decorated—in fact, it was sparse beyond weapons and shields. A hearth had a fire burning, but it was all in all a very mellow space.

Bartolomeo threw a look to the Assassin, but before he could say anything, a woman emerged from the staircase. She was a fine beauty, her blue-and-gold dress made of silk threads and adorned in ornate designs that complimented her features. Her hair was a brownish color, perhaps a little lighter in sunlight, and fell short along her pale face. She was more than he expected for a wife of the infamous Bartolomeo, but he had to admit the swordsman had good taste.

"Ah, here she is," Bartolomeo spoke, his voice gentle as he held his out, as if presenting her to a crowd.

"Nice to meet you," she spoke, her voice calm and serene—very noble like. She even looked upon him as such, her eyes reflecting an intelligence as she saw far beyond his clothes and mug. No doubt she could discern a great many things most would miss.

He took her hand, kissing it gently, "Charmed. Truly."

She smiled a little as her husband stepped forward, hand raised, "Now, we talk about war."

"How goes the fight against the French?"

"Good," he nodded. "My men are holding their own."

Ezio raised a brow, "Machiavelli seemed to think things were more difficult."