La Confessione dell’Assassina (Collab: Part V)

[W Navarre]

Previously...

The Architect's Ascension: Part V

Never while she lies before me, crippled and at the death’s door, shall I strike down another soul with blood in vendetta. 

I knew not why I made this oath to myself. What did I owe her anyways? I hadn’t meant for it to be so brutal. Maybe I had gotten carried away a little. It had almost all gone wrong. 

I shook my head, vacating the chair that I had occupied the entire serata. I needed to clear my thoughts. 

“Ilazio?” a weak voice called out as I gently opened the door. I looked behind me at the pale figure sitting up in the infermeria bed, Arama. She seemed enervated, but at least she was alive. I gave a slight smile, closed the door, and walked across the room towards her. 

“Che cosa?” I whispered. 

“You saved me. Perché?” she asked. 

“E allora? That doesn’t mean that I particularly like you,” I responded gruffly.

“That’s not the point,” Arama said, looking extra pale and even trembling a little. “Maybe you should be Rego. If you really mean to be like this.”

I looked at her, shocked, shaking my head in denial. She had done it for me! This wasn’t the first time today that my weeks of planning had turned out pretty differently from what I expected. But it was all the same in the end. It had to be. I would play my cards all the way. 

“No,” I said coolly.  

“Then what is it you want from me? You’ve been sitting there, su quella sedia, all night!” Arama swallowed, frustrated. “I can’t give you anything, more than that.”

“No? Non voglio niente. I don’t want that. Nothing, I’ve repented of my vendetta. Mio papà can rest now, riposare in pace. You should too,” I answered ruefully, exasperated. 

“I don’t offer it for you, and I certainly don’t offer it for myself,” Arama begged, looking even more fragile than before. “But you can’t do it without me,” Arama grinned. “Lo sai.”

“Perhaps I could have. Perhaps I didn’t want to. Buona Notte.”

I gave a twinge of a smile as I left for the night.

It turned out it was even easier this way. This was one maniera to gain vengeance over the dastardly Rego without even shedding blood. My month of hard work, research, and desperate secrecy would pay off soon… and both promesse could be preserved. 

You didn’t need to shed blood to kill.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Arama De Cioto was eating from a small bowl of porridge when Ilazio entered the following morning. She thought it was delicious even though she knew it tasted horrible. She looked less pale and more determined to Ilazio. He was surprised she hadn’t left. 

“Sicché?” she questioned indifferently as he closed the door. 

“Indeed,” he replied calmly despite the severity of his words. “Hai ragione. Luca has only, besides his peace with the Kolgari, caused turmoil and death per la nostra gilda. The last Rego was possibly killed off at sea and look where that got us. If I am to assume the Regoship, I want to do so with popular support. Nessuna violenza.”

Arama sighed, bit her tongue, and stared at Ilazio. “You and me, we could do it,” she said.

Ilazio shrugged. “At least we could try. If you really mean it. If you don’t mind what people think of you.”

“I need you to swear,” Arama said through her teeth. 

“Swear what? I’ve already sworn in my heart. You think I could have stopped myself from killing you if I hadn’t barred myself with an oath under the moon last night? I will never shed blood again.” Ilazio closed his eyes. “I will become Rego because Varlyrio needs me. That’s never what I wanted. I just wanted to avenge my father! But you’re right. There’s something better for me to do. We need peace, justice, and friendship. I’ll give that, I swear!” Ilazio Moccenigo lifted up his hand and shook it at the roof. Then he sank back onto the sedia. “If we can, I mean. I swear I’ll never stop trying: by Sana Argenta!”

Arama looked at him with her mouth ajar.

“Bene… I,” she paused, not sure how to continue. This was betrayal, but it was for the best. Everything she had done with Luca, what had it gotten them? Now it hurt to think of the people who were gone—all gone forever, and it was her fault. Did she think it was all a game? What had she done? Whatever it was, she didn’t want to do it anymore.

“I agree,” she said at last. She took a breath. Her headache vanished magically and even though she was in physical pain, she had never felt so light and happy before. And it would be fun to do Luca a favor he never imagined. She wondered if he’d appreciate this. But who cared? It didn’t really matter whether Luca understood it or not. It wasn’t up to him. 

She tried not to laugh. She knew it would hurt her stomach. 

“This costs me nothing, but everything for you,” Ilazio remarked. This arrangement only seemed to benefit him, ma forse she had some ragione occulto. “What do you want this for?”

“Maybe I need to repent too,” Arama countered, both to herself and to Ilazio. “I found out something last night. There are two kinds of hearts. And I have both—at least I think I do.” She winked at Ilazio.

Ilazio nodded as he gathered his cloak about himself, preparing to leave. “Then it’s settled. Due giorni and I will return here. If you’ve left, you must come too, at this hour. Then, we will present our case to le famiglie di importanza. Rest well, mia compagna ancora di nella conspirazione.”

“This is treason,” Arama grinned. 

Ilazio grinned cautiously back at her. He would watch her carefully.

“Al demone with treason or patriotism!” they both said together. Arama swallowed back her laugh. 

“Which one even is this?” Ilazio added thoughtfully. 

“Non lo so,” Arama murmured.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Luca di Carli, Rego of Varlyrio, was writing a letter to be sent to the Queen Ylspeth who demanded tidings detailing the recent assassination attempt, and regarding the death of the famous Tiger Prince, Råiden Tígrisdýrið, when Arama di Athena De Cioto limped in without knocking di mattina presto.

“Arama!” he said, curious and alarmed at seeing her bloodstained clothes and pale face. She hadn’t bothered to change. Luca knew she liked going around all bloody and dirty. “Cosa! What happened this time? You can’t dream how anxious I’ve been; I sent out your brother looking for you with a trusted band of guards.” 

Arama grunted, wincing as she collapsed into the nearest chair. She smiled at him coyly, looking out from under her eyelashes with a resigned but merry expression. 

Luca leaned over the desk, rolling his eyes as he spilled ink on the letter to the Queen—he would probably just leave it that way, it was kind of artistic—and helped Arama into a sitting position. 

“Stab wound,” she replied, somehow nonchalantly.

He frowned trying to repress any amusement. “Posso vedere. Why don’t you explain, per favore?”

“Ilazio ambushed me,” she replied, licking her lips thoughtfully before confiding more. She knew, for one thing, that Ilazio’s agent was watching her from the other room. Well, he was wasting his time. Apparently Ilazio’s pacifism didn’t stop him from worrying about getting killed by someone else. 

“And he didn’t murder you like he murdered me?” Luca questioned ironically. “Oh, sorry, of course,” he apologized when Arama laughed. 

But there was something strange about her laugh, a pensive air to her face. Luca guessed that it wasn’t very comfortable for her to laugh at the moment.

“Dispiace, didn’t mean to make you laugh,” he said apologetically.

“It’ll make me live longer—maybe,” she said. “But no, he’s not dead either.” She smiled at Luca’s astonished look. “You flatter me,” she remarked bashfully. 

“What? All he cares about is revenge.” 

“Maybe… not all,” she said slowly. 

“Do you know what he cares about?” Luca quizzed her, leaning back against the table and accidentally putting his hand on the wet ink. “Accidenti!” 

Arama didn’t make any remarks. She seemed a little sad, her eyes lazily gazing out the window instead of at Luca. 

“Arama, you seem… distracted?” he said, concerned. Before, when he had seen her injured, she just wanted to fight. Now, she seemed perfectly happy, or at least perfectly normal. “That’s strange,” Luca accidentally muttered out loud.  

Arama looked distracted, gazing out of the window instead of at Luca.

Arama nodded in affirmation, flinching, but both of them knew that it was a lie. It was… actually, pretty normal… that was what Luca found strange.

“Well, it seems the Moccenigos aren’t a threat to us anymore. They know how to kill us but they still can’t. His last attempt on la mia vita has discouraged him, bene?” he said triumphantly, expecting Arama to tease him in return, but instead he disappointingly received nothing. He laughed. “Get some rest. Servo, fetch un dottore, per favore, to attend to her wounds.”

“Sì, mio Rego,” the servant replied, bowing in deference.

“We don’t really need to worry if all the world sees us together now, ehi?”

“I don’t know, Luca,” Arama said hesitantly, “better not to be so reckless.”

Luca nodded and gave a slight smile to Arama as she was carried out of the office. He sighed and then began adding some more artistic blotches to the report for Queen Ylspeth. 

Later, when little Arama De Cioto was more herself, he would find out the details of her disastrous fight with Moccenigo. Everything happened the way she wanted it to happen, he knew that pretty well. He grinned and shook his head. 

“Sempre impresionante,” he muttered. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Due giorni dopo, I went back to the farmacista to get Arama. 

We talked about the complicated details, safe exile, how she would get Luca to go with her, riservatezza delle informazioni, extenuating deals. The point was, I had to treat her fairly, and it was pretty tough to arrange it with the De Fioris and the Conzagas, but we did. She would be safe whatever happened, and Luca would be too. 

As for me, I made sure there was no way anybody else could take the spot I wanted. If things were going to change, I would be the next Rego. Arama was inflexible on that point… and so was I. And without us, nothing could happen. So we got what we wanted. 

And now it was all up to Arama di Athena De Cioto. I was shocked at the way she chose to do it. What was she thinking? I wasn’t ever going to kill another man, and she believed that. I think she became a little infatuated. She had some pretty terrible mood swings. One second she seemed to be drifting in the sky with joy, and the next hour she would be so sad and silent, I really started to worry for her. Would she do what she had agreed to do?

I was committed to make sure that it happened peacefully, or it didn’t happen at all. Fortunately, la ragazza had an idea for how to accomplish that. All we needed was to get the most powerful famiglie of Illaryian on our side…

That was what we were about to do, in the most brutal, inconceivable way possible. Arama was going to confess.

I helped her limp to the sala conferenze, arranged with some of the most important famiglie of Varylrio, who all together would easily be able to sway the populace. 

If Arama told the truth… Would she really do it? 

Once we arrived, I left Arama on a couch in the antechamber. She asked me for a knife and I refused to give her one.

“You don’t trust me?” she said, and she almost sounded hurt. “I’m trusting you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said wistfully. “But knives aren’t for peaceful people.”

Arama’s eyes fell on my one.

I took off the belt and the knife and tossed it out the window. “There.”

“I can get a knife if I want one,” Arama said.

“You don’t want one,” I said, looking at her keenly. 

She smiled.

Before I proceeded into the designated room, guarded all round by faithful De Fiori mercenaries, I tucked my father’s last written words into my pocket and I looked at the girl on the couch one last time. 

“Ilazio?” she asked weakly. I wondered at how she was planning on giving a speech in this state. “I need…”

“Che cosa?” I replied

“I need to know what we’re gonna do once I tell them. There are some things that I… I’m not proud of, segreti. I tell them to everyone, and we have to have a plan, how’m I gonna get out if they don’t keep their side of the deal? You bet they’ll want me dead,” she whispered. “They’ll want me dead very badly.”

I smiled at her sadly. “I think they’ll know that you’ve changed now. Why else would you be telling them?”

“That’s not good enough.” 

Ilazio sucked on his lip. “Then turn around and leave when you’re done. I’ll give you time to get away. You have to go get Luca, stay safe with the Royal Guards for now.”

Arama nodded disconsolately.

Those gathered nodded their heads towards me and many whispered greetings or condolences for my father as I entered the room. 

We began without any pointless delay.  

“You know what you’re here for. We made a deal. Anyone not know what it involves? Does anyone dissent?”

“We’re waiting,” Alesio said, almost coldly. “It’s your turn, Moccenigo.”

“Where’s the assassin?” a young man asked. 

He was a Lord of Baiamonte. I wasn’t scared of him. 

I nodded. “No one will touch her until she’s done. Then she leaves in peace.”

“In pace? Why should she live? Shouldn’t you have killed the assassina the first time?” one of the younger nobles voiced mockingly. It was the same Baiamonte. 

“Do you think I am an assassin?” I asked calmly. 

The Lord of Baiamonte blinked at me. 

The Lord of Baiamonte blinked.

“Leave her to me,” I said. “I broke her spirit, isn’t that enough? You know the deal. Violence is what characterized the last Rego’s reign, and the one before that. And the Baiamontes’... but it’s a foolish path. You’ll see that if you wait a moment. If we are to gain the support of the cittadini, we must use a different tact,” I replied coolly. 

The young noble laughed. He shook his head. “You’re weak, Moccenigo.”

I smiled, and looked at the rest. Then I laughed. “Weak? What’s the use of power,” I said, “if you don’t know how to control it?” 

I advanced towards the insolent ragazzo. Even though I was shorter than him, he seemed to back away as I approached.

I advanced towards the insolent ragazzo.

“Mio padre aveva l'adagio, ‘Those who are weak give in to their impulses, but those who are strong resist.’ I could have easily killed her, Baiamonte. But we need her,” I said softly, mio voce cutting him like ice. “And everyone here will do as I say in this matter, until the crown of Varlyrio is on my brow, or until I myself am killed.”

Silence filled the air of the sala conferenze. 

“Arama di Athena De Cioto,” I said quietly, “venire.”

A gasp ran through the room, and I even felt a few hands stiffen around their swords.

“This is your assissina?” Alesio said sharply. “What’s next, Ilazio Moccenigo?”

I smiled at the cunning man with the patch. “Ascoltare.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

A servant walked in, helping Arama, who looked much paler and weaker than when we had arrived, to a nearby chair. I went to stand next to her, while De Fiori, Conzaga, and others stood motionless in their places.  

“Pronta?” I asked quietly. She nodded in affirmation. 

The same ragazzo who had made un pazzo of himself earlier, unwisely decided to speak up again. “Signori, I thought you said this was una assassina? Certamente, di Carlo couldn’t have any use for this weakling?”

Arama bent over and whispered to me, “Perhaps you should have given me that knife.” She grinned at the young Baiamonte. 

“Perhaps, if you would let her speak, then you’d think differently,” Conzaga replied to him. 

The ragazzo frowned. Then, he nodded politely in the direction of Arama. “Signorina, per favore inizia.”

Arama took a deep breath. Then she got up out of the chair, grabbed it by the top bar, and whirled it around an inch in front of Lord Baiamonte’s face, all in one smooth movement.

She set it back down and leaned against it in the center of the room. 

Fire lit up her eyes. “Now maybe you’ll believe what I say,” she said, biting her lip harshly. 

I offered assistance but she picked up the chair in between me and her. I saw the pain in her eyes that her physical effort was making, but although her arms trembled, the chair never wavered until she set it back down beside her. 

Ilazio about to offer Arama assistance. 

“Arama, we know the part you played before the coronation, and afterwards,” Alesio said slowly. “None of us here bear you any goodwill. It’s about Luca di Carli, Rego régnant, that we need to know. Is it true? What did he care about Brabantio Moccenigo? About the Tiger of Illaryian?” 

Arama stood there shakily for a few moments, whether from fear or because of her wounds, I know not, but then she opened her mouth and the story came out in a quick torrent, like she didn’t want them to even understand her. But they did. 

“And about Cadgie De Fiori, Capri, Staffen Conzaga, other names I don’t need to say. The De Fiori backed Luca di Carli to replace old Supano Amancio, my cognato, by secretly murdering him at sea, or something like that. I backed Luca too, and I backstabbed some of you. But it wasn’t just me. Staffen Conzaga was killed by Luca soon afterwards by recommendation of Signore De Fiori.” 

Alesio gasped and glared at her. He hadn’t expected her to tell that. She knew too much. He looked at the Conzaga watching him bitterly and said pertly, “Staffen Conzaga was a traitor. He had plans that wouldn’t have left the realm in pace for another month. What do you say to that?”

“Staffen Conzaga was a traitor. He had plans that wouldn’t have left the realm in pace for another month."

Arama smiled and sighed, sitting backwards on the chair.

“Of course it was justified to the Guardia Reale as tradimento on Staffen’s part. My brother was captain of the guard then. Each of you can believe it or not—I do, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t kill him. And because Alesio knew too much, we sent un assassino after him, but he failed; however, the ruffiani we sent after Cadgie succeeded. Maybe I should have gone myself. But we had Capri sequestrato in the confusion, and the Conzaga ragazza too. Then, to make Luca look favorable in the eyes of la popolazione and to the De Fiori, we made as though I was behind all of the murders and kidnappings.”

Alesio stared at Arama with his one good eye. 

“Luca and Alesio stormed the Amancio Palazzo to find Capri, and I was injured. Then, Luca di Carli’s position was a sure one, but if anyone knew that the De Cioto’s were close to him, that could end it all. Your father, Moccenigo played the part of ricatto. That,” Arama said and she shook her head, “wasn’t very wise. But he almost got revenge… after he was dead. You know, Ilazio Moccenigo. The Tiger had to pay the price for peace with the Kolgari. It was his life for that of a thousand other Varlyrians and Elves. He was my friend, and I miss him, but it was a sacrifice he might have made himself, if he could have. He had a noble soul.”

Arama confesses.

I stopped Arama short. She was leaning against the back of the chair with her head now. 

“Luca didn’t know I had killed your father,” she murmured. 

I started and tears irrepressibly sprang into my eyes. “He didn’t know?”

Arama just shook her head, crying into her sleeve which she viciously wiped across her eyes. 

“What does it matter now, hadn’t you forgiven him?” she said gently. 

“Of course,” I exhaled. 

Lord Baiamonte looked at me in confusion. 

“Well, the kidnapping of mio cugino Fiorello, which we orchestrated in the dead of night, was a tricky piece of work. Ilazio, we entrapped you in the trap that you had set for the Rego. But it wasn’t really a sequestro at all, it was just a scary serenata for my little cousin.” Arama took a deep breath. “I did most of this. I told Luca some things, and I didn’t tell him others. Then you almost killed him. You would have if it hadn’t been for me. And he actually pardoned you, Moccenigo. I had him pardon you.”

Arama looked to her left to see me watching her intently. I helped her out of the chair and whispered, “Grazie.” 

Arama shot me one slow look. “I was joking,” she said, limping towards the door in a sudden hurry. “I was about to kill you.” 

“Lo so, I meant thank you for what you just did,” I said again. “It was brave, Arama,” I whispered into her ear. “Grazie.”

Arama grabbed the door and pulled it open. “Arrivederci,” she said, holding onto it for one instant. 

Then she pushed off and ran down faster than I thought she could go, down the stairs, through the room, over the rail, and into the street. 

There was an awful silence in the sala di conferenze. I called the guards to close the doors.

“So,” Conzaga said, “most of what you suspected was just so. It seemed like there was a surprise in there for you too, though, Ilazio Moccenigo. How do you know that what she said was true?”

“The same way I know that what you all promised me was true,” I smiled cleverly. “You don’t have any other options.”

Then, the great De Fiori stood forward. “We know your demands, Moccenigo. We are tired of the rule of this domineering di Carli. Let us hear the response of all present here. We all want peace, and we need to work together if there is to be no bloodshed. What about the Royal Guard?”

“They’re taken care of,” I said, nodding. “If you bring the populace to our cause, gentiluomini, I will do all the rest.”

I waited in suspense to hear their response. 

Alesio de Fiori went first. “As you all fully know, Ilazio Moccenigo, the son of the unfortunately deceased Signore Brabantio, possa riposare in pace, has offered us a plan to take down the Rego.” 

Those faithful made the signs of Sana Argenta; the bucket of water and the sword. Alesio looked at them with a wise and almost scornful look. 

“Signore Moccenigo,” he spoke again, giving a slight nod in my direction, “we had already prepared our course of action, seeing you have fulfilled your first part, we of the famiglie di Illaryian gathered here on this fine morning have all agreed to put all our influence and wealth behind you until you’re crowned. But we work together in this. We can’t do it without you… but you can’t do it without us.”

“We will have our eyes on you,” Conzaga said slowly. “Your position as Rego will be dependent on us. Do what you will, but betray us…” Conzaga looked around at his fellow conspirators. “And there will be a civil war. Or perhaps only a dagger in your back. We here are not pacifisti.”

Baiamonte laughed. 

“Viva la Gilda!” I said coolly. 

“Viva la Gilda!” several others muttered.

Those with wine glasses, filled with red Conzaga wine, naturalmente, raised them and took a long sip. I waited until they had finished questo rituale. 

“In our correspondences Signore De Fiori, I did not explain all of i dettagli,” I said to the nobles gathering closer around me. “Listen. This is how it shall be done…”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Spoiler

A few more shots of the vignette: 

 

Edited July 8, 2022 by W Navarre

[NOD]

I like the story, you are a very good author. I like the different and elaborately built interiors. I'll read the rest of the chapters later, because it takes some time to read everything.

[Kai NRG]

I kind of like how you've developed a sort of Valyrian style with all these weird colors... though usually I could do without the sand green.   The coral does look quite nice here (and goes well with dark green) and I absolutely love the lavender over the arch!

[W Navarre]

On 7/9/2022 at 2:18 AM, NOD said:

I like the story, you are a very good author. I like the different and elaborately built interiors. I'll read the rest of the chapters later, because it takes some time to read everything.

 

Thank you very much! TalusMoonbreaker was a coauthor with me, he did a great job too :) ! Yes, be sure I appreciate having a reader, as there probably aren't too many people who will check out a story written for GoH :) . But here is the whole story in order, so you can read it when you have the time! Thank you again! 

On 7/9/2022 at 1:34 PM, Kai NRG said:

I kind of like how you've developed a sort of Valyrian style with all these weird colors... though usually I could do without the sand green.   The coral does look quite nice here (and goes well with dark green) and I absolutely love the lavender over the arch!

Haha! I think it was pretty close to the way some Venetian interiors would have looked or do look. Otherwise to look like Venice it would have had to have been all black and gold, haha. Thank you! I almost did a coral flower but yeah, I liked the touch of lavender and the excess of colours :P . 

[Grover]

Love the upside down plates in the floor!  The chairs in the second build look good, too.  The story is still a little hard to follow, particularly through the use of the Italian, which crosses the line from flavoring words to dialogue.  I think it's a nice idea, but in this case may begin to interfere with comprehension in a story this complex.  And again, is this Di Carlo or Di Carli?  Did the name change?

[W Navarre]

On 8/10/2022 at 10:59 AM, Grover said:

Love the upside down plates in the floor!  The chairs in the second build look good, too.  The story is still a little hard to follow, particularly through the use of the Italian, which crosses the line from flavoring words to dialogue.  I think it's a nice idea, but in this case may begin to interfere with comprehension in a story this complex.  And again, is this Di Carlo or Di Carli?  Did the name change?

Thank you! I will try to be more judicious in the future! I think I already answered that doubt in another comment, it's understandable you find it strange  . Yes, it is Di Carlo, Zlatan's character. 

Edited August 12, 2022 by W Navarre