‘Yes.’

‘Dante told me with his dying breath that it is bound for Cyprus.’

‘To what end?’

‘That, amico, is what I need to find out.’

21

Ezio could not believe it was Midsummer’s Day, in the Year of Christ 1487. His twenty-eighth birthday. He was by himself on the Bridge of the Fistfighters, leaning on the balustrade and gloomily looking at the dank water of the canal beneath him. As he watched, a rat swam by, pushing a cargo of cabbage leaves filched from the nearby greengrocer’s barge towards a hole in the black brick of the canal’s bank.

‘There you are, Ezio!’ said a cheery voice, and he could smell Rosa’s musky scent before he turned to greet her. ‘It’s been too long! I might almost think you’ve been avoiding me!’

‘I’ve been… busy.’

‘Of course you have. What would Venice do without you!’

Ezio shook his head sadly, as Rosa leant comfortably on the balustrade beside him.

‘Why so serious, bello?’ she asked.

Ezio gave her a deadpan look and shrugged. ‘Happy Birthday to Me.’

‘It’s your birthday? You serious? Wow! Rallegramenti! That’s wonderful!’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ sighed Ezio. ‘It’s been over ten years since I watched my father and brothers die. And I have spent ten years hunting down the men responsible, the men on my father’s list, and those added to it since his death. And I know I am close to the end now – but I am no closer to understanding what any of it has really been for.’

‘Ezio, you’ve dedicated your life to a good cause. It has made you lonely, isolated, but in one sense it has been your vocation. And though the instrument you have used to further your cause is death, you have never been unjust. Venice is a far better place now than it ever was, because of you. So cheer up. Anyway, seeing as it’s your birthday, here’s a present. Very good timing, as it happens!’ She took out an official-looking logbook.

‘Thank you, Rosa. Not quite what I’d imagined you’d give me for my birthday. What is it?’

‘Just something I happened to… pick up. It’s the shipping manifest from the Arsenal. The date your black galley sailed for Cyprus late last year is entered in it -‘

‘Seriously?’ Ezio reached for the book but Rosa teasingly held it away from him. ‘Give it to me, Rosa. This isn’t a joke.’

‘Everything has its price…’ she whispered.

‘If you say so.’

He held her in his arms for a long, lingering moment. She melted against him and he quickly snatched the book away.

‘Hey! That isn’t fair!’ she laughed. ‘Anyway, just to spare you the suspense, that galley of yours is scheduled to return to Venice – tomorrow!’

‘What, I wonder, can they have on board?’

‘Why am I not surprised that someone not a million miles from here is going to find out?’

Ezio beamed. ‘Let’s go and celebrate first!’

But at that moment a familiar figure bustled up.

‘Leonardo!’ said Ezio, greatly surprised. ‘I thought you were in Milan!’

‘Just got back,’ replied Leonardo. ‘They told me where to find you. Hello, Rosa. Sorry, Ezio, but we really need to talk.’

‘Now? This minute?’

‘Sorry.’

Rosa laughed. ‘Go on boys, have fun, I’ll keep!’

Leonardo ushered a reluctant Ezio away.

‘This had better be good,’ muttered Ezio.

‘Oh, it is, it is,’ said Leonardo placatingly. He led Ezio along several narrow alleys until they arrived back at his workshop. Leonardo busied about, producing some warm wine and stale cakes, and a pile of documents which he dumped on a large trestle table in the middle of his study.

‘I had your Codex pages delivered to Monteriggioni as promised, but I couldn’t resist studying them some more myself and I’ve copied out my findings. I don’t know why I’d never made the connection before, but when I put them together I realized the markings and symbols and ancient alphabets can be decoded and we seem to have struck gold – for all these pages are contiguous!’ He interrupted himself. ‘This wine is too warm! Mind you, I’ve got used to San Colombano; this Veneto stuff is like gnat’s piss by comparison.’

‘Go on,’ said Ezio patiently.

‘Listen to this.’ Leonardo produced a pair of eyeglasses and perched them on his nose. He shuffled through his papers and read: ‘The Prophet… will appear… when the Second Piece is brought to the Floating City…’

Ezio drew in his breath sharply at the words. ‘Prophet?’ he repeated.’ “Only the Prophet may open it…” “Two Pieces of Eden…”’

‘Ezio?’ Leonardo looked quizzical, doffing his eyeglasses. ‘What is it? Does this ring some kind of bell with you?’

Ezio looked at him. He appeared to be coming to some kind of decision. ‘We’ve known each other a long time, Leonardo. If I can’t trust you, there’s nobody… Listen! My Uncle Mario spoke of it, long ago. He’s already deciphered other pages of this Codex, as had my father, Giovanni. There’s a prophecy hidden in it, a prophecy about a secret, ancient vault, which holds something – something very powerful!’

‘Really? That’s amazing!’ But then a thought struck Leonardo. ‘Look, Ezio, if we’ve found all this out from the Codex, how much do the Barbarigi and the others you’ve been pitched against know about it? Maybe they know about the existence of this vault you mention too. And if so, that’s not good.’

‘Wait!’ said Ezio, his brain racing. ‘What if that’s why they sent the galley to Cyprus? To find this “Piece of Eden”! And bring it back to Venice!’

‘ “When the Second Piece is brought to the Floating City” – of course!’

‘It’s coming back to me! “The Prophet will appear…” “... Only the Prophet can open the Vault!”... My God, Leo, when my Uncle told me about the Codex, I was too young, too brash, to imagine that it was anything but an old man’s fantasy. But now I see it plain! The murder of Giovanni Mocenigo, the killing of my kinsmen, the attempt on the life of Duke Lorenzo and the horrible death of his brother – it’s all been part of his plan – to find the Vault – the first name on my List! The one I have yet to strike a line through – The Spaniard!’