Revelations

SIXTY

Apart from the fact that its hall was deep underground, the market was much as any other-stalls selling meat, vegetables, spices-whose odors were everywhere, and even denser than they would have been in the open air-clothes, shoes-whatever the people needed. And there were little tavernas and wine shops. Near one of them, in an open space, a drunken scrap had broken out-evidently over a light-skinned whore, a bony older woman who sat elegantly on a chair at one of the wine-shop tables, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

A circle had formed around the two men who were throwing punches at one another, the bystanders egging them on with ragged shouts of encouragement. Ezio joined the circle’s outer edges:

“Give him one!”

“Hit him!”

“Kill the bastard!”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Blood! Blood!”

“Mangle him!”

Among the watchers, most of whom were as drunk as the brawlers, was a fat, red-faced soldier with a scruffy beard and a receding chin, holding a wineskin and roaring along with the rest of them. Ezio had already noticed the unclasped leather wallet on his belt and could see the bow of a large iron key protruding from it. He glanced around and saw the three guards from the painted hall approaching through the market on the far side.

No time to lose. He sidled up to the fat soldier from behind and plucked the key from the wallet just as his fellow soldiers hailed him by name.

Nikolos would have a lot of explaining to do, thought Ezio, as he made his way back to the Second Level and the tunnel from which the stench had emanated-the tunnel which, he guessed, led to the west gate.