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inkpawprintsI don't play many computer games, but the Assassin's Creed series by Ubisoft have been incredibly enjoyable. They have everything I like - historical adventure, intrigue, an incredible amount of research, great characters, and swords and those air assassinations never get old. This fic is a silly idea that came about as a result of this cut scene and the 'Da Vinci Disappearance' DLC for Assassin's Creed II: Brotherhood because well, Ezio does enough side missions beating up unfaithful husbands and other bastards for various ladies (including his baby sister DO NOT INSULT EZIO'S SISTER), the idea of him doing a similar 'job' for Leonardo da Vinci was too good to pass up. Especially when you read about what Salai was like...
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twigcollins.
MEDIATORE
Assassin's Creed II: Brotherhood
Rome, April 1506
With practiced ease Ezio Auditore da Firenze slipped into a group of people making their way along the street. It probably wasn't really necessary – he wasn't on assignment at the moment, and generous donations to heralds ensured none of the patrolling soldiers ever had a reason to look for him – but Leonardo da Vinci had powerful patrons and it wouldn't do his reputation any good for it to be widely known that he counted an Assassin amongst his friends. Not just an Assassin, the Assassin, the one who had driven the Borgia out of Rome and brought about the downfall of Pope Alexander VI and Cesare Borgia himself. True, unlike his father the Captain General who had ruled Rome with an iron fist was not yet dead, only exiled to Spain, but Ezio planned on taking care of that, and soon.
All this was farthest from Ezio's mind as he quietly detached himself from the group of passer-bys and headed for a door of an unassuming building. Out of habit he checked his surroundings, left and right, before lifting his armoured hand to knock – and paused as he heard raised voices from inside.
"—ver pay attention to my needs or what I want—"
"You know that's not true, when have I ever denied you anything—"
"I've been holding this position since dawn! Il mio dio you know I have plans to go out and—"
"Gamble away my money again?"
There was a crash.
"Please! Calm down – oh cielo, you nearly knocked the canvas over—"
"Fuck the canvas it's your fault for upsetting me! Why are you starting a new work anyway when you have so many to finish—"
"It's not a new work, I'm redoing the Baptist that was lost—"
"Then redo it from memory instead of bothering me because this is it I am finished with you, maestro, understand? Rifinito!"
"Salaì—"
Hurried footsteps approached the door. Ezio blinked as it was yanked open to allow a young man with long ringlets to storm out half dressed in the process of pulling on a shirt with a loose doublet in hand, a dramatic exit that was abruptly cut short when he ran straight into Ezio's chest. "Cazzo! Watch it, idiota, or I'll—" The young man looked up and realised it was. "Ezio?"
Ezio gave a smile of greeting. "Buon giorno, Salaì."
Salaì, assistant, student, companion and more to Leonardo da Vinci, returned the smile but it was a twisted one, even on his beautiful face. "Buon giorno, assassino. Come to visit the maestro, have you?"
"I have, yes. You are leaving?"
"Aye, and forever!" Salaì pulled his shirt on properly but didn't fasten the ties. "I have had enough of this work and you may tell the maestro that if wants to keep painting me he can do some from his dreams!"
He stepped around Ezio and began to hurry away down the street. Had Ezio been younger he would have rolled his eyes, but since he wasn't he simply sighed and moved after him. "Salaì, I'm sure you're overreacting—"
"Overreacting? When he insists I hold pose for hours on end without break? This, my friend, this is not overreacting this is simply escaping!" Salaì had turned to walk backwards as he spoke in order to face Ezio, and with arms gracefully flung outwards for emphasis carrying the doublet he looked like an angry butterfly. "Or perhaps if you do think I'm overreacting, why don't you model for him yourself, hm? Then you will see what I mean! Addio!"
With that the young man hurried away, almost knocking over a woman with a parasol in the process. She screeched profanities after him as he disappeared into the late morning crowds no doubt on his way to either a tavern, a tailor, La Volpe Addormentata, or all three in some order, and Ezio sighed once again. Now that the door was open there was no point knocking, and in any case his exchange with Salaì would have alerted Leonardo that he had a visitor. From what Ezio had heard and seen already he could make a good guess as to the state he would find his friend in, which would have to be dealt with before he could even ask about his own business … he braced himself, lowered his white hood, and went inside.
The ground floor of the house that was Leonardo's workshop was, quite frankly, a scene of organised chaos. Sketches and notes covered every available surface, including some stuck haphazardly between the strings of a lute. A wooden table had the remains of a meal and drink on it alongside small-scale models of contraptions Ezio knew not what, while a small pile of journals nearby seemed to have been turned into a candle holder and was covered in streams of wax. In one corner there stood what seemed to be a suit of wooden armour, in another the dismantled frame of the flying machine. The full bookshelf walls at least seemed to be in some sort of order but alongside the books there were also bones placed about like so many ornaments: the skeleton of a bird, the skeleton of a fish, several skulls from various animals, a human hand and forearm … Ezio tore his eyes from them to focus on the figure standing in the middle of everything, back towards him, leaning forward with hands braced against a painting frame on which sat a working canvas. Carefully Ezio approached the slumped shoulders. "Leonardo?"
The figure stirred and straightened. Leonardo da Vinci turned to give him a tired smile, a far cry from the warm embrace he usually greeted Ezio with. "Ezio old friend, what a pleasant surprise. I ah, apologise for the mess."
"It is nothing, I am used to your ways. Are you all right?"
"No worse than usual. Did you see where Salaì ran off to?"
"Unfortunately not, but I suspect the usual places. If he's not at those I can always put word out to find him." Ezio hesitated a moment. "So how bad was it this time?"
"Oh, it's silly, Salaì was supposed to be posing so I can sketch composition lines for a painting and I might have kept him at it too long. I told him just a little more, just a little more, he finally got fed up and – well, you heard the rest." Leonardo's head dipped again and Ezio silently got him a chair so as to sit down. Leonardo took it with gratitude. "Perhaps I am too demanding."
"You do tend to get caught up in your work," said Ezio, taking a second chair opposite. "But Salaì is your assistant, he's modelled for you before, surely he should be used to it."
"He is, but he is also restless. In any case this incident is probably more an excuse rather than a cause; you would think after the Borgia and cult of Hermes my life would be quiet, but with Salaì that is not the case."
Ezio diplomatically shrugged. "You gave Salaì his name for a reason."
"And he does his best to live up to it. Gambling, lying, gluttony – he has at least twenty pairs of shoes and still claims a need for more – histrionics that would make an actor blush, not to mention thieving. I expect he snatched my purse on his way out."
"But you put up with it." Ezio eyed a pair of cups on the table and snagged them along with the wine flagon – a drink, perhaps, to go with the talking would do his friend good.
"I do. Grazie." Leonardo took the cup and drank deeply. "You must think me a fool."
"A fool?" Ezio laughed as he poured out his own drink. "Leonardo, you are many things but a fool is not one of them. The things that have tumbled out of your mind over the years I have no shame in admitting that I cannot even begin to comprehend them. It would be no lie to say that is only through your genius that I have come as far as I have, old friend."
Leonardo's cheeks flushed behind his beard. "You flatter me. But if I am not a fool in profession, then I am at least one in love."
"And you would be far from the first, believe me," replied Ezio wryly. "So you indulge Salaì, granted, but give him time and he'll grow out of it – he is young after all."
"Only in mind. Anatomically I can testify to his full adulthood but that in itself is – Ezio, are you all right?"
With a bit of effort Ezio managed to stop his violent coughing without spilling his drink – aware as he was of Leonardo and Salaì's relationship, he could do without the mental imagery. "... I am fine. Please, ah, continue."
"Oh. As I was saying, it is curious how the human mind and the human body can mature at comparatively different rates. It is something I would study, but I am less inclined to such efforts when I know the subject so intimately. Or perhaps I am just getting old."
"The fact that you cannot make a study of someone you care for has given me great comfort over the years. Though you are right, the two of us, we are no longer young."
Leonardo smiled ruefully. "You at least look it. Still charming half the ladies in Roma, I am sure. Have you heard from Caterina?"
"She is still in Firenze." Ezio refused to dwell on the pang of their parting. "She wrote recently to update me on the progress of her campaign to regain her lands. But you are trying to change the subject. This fight with Salaì, how bad was it?"
Leonardo sighed. "I cannot say. There have been worse where he has run away, and while he eventually comes back I never know when that will happen. Until he does, it feels as if I am hanging suspended limp above a pit wondering whether this time he really did leave for good …"
Or stupidly got himself killed, thought Ezio, though he kept his face expressionless. Given Salaì's ability to annoy people it was a perfectly possible risk, and while the youth was handy with a knife he wouldn't stand a chance if he angered a group of mercenaries or soldiers in a tavern somewhere. Not that Ezio intended on mentioning this. "He will certainly return to you," Ezio said instead. "If nothing else, he is going to need money eventually."
The joke failed to get a smile. "Even if he does return, I cannot help but think about whether it would be right," Leonardo murmured softly. His hands around the cup were tight. "Salaì, he's been with me since he was ten years of age, that's more than half his life now. Faithful as he has been more or less, I sometimes wonder if I should release him the way I do with birds in the marketplace. But then I think about his care for me, his delight in accomplishing some new task or the way he wept when he saw you had rescued me …"
Ezio remained quiet, remembering the night he had brought Leonardo back after his kidnapping by the Hermeticists. The adrenalin that had sustained his friend despite his beating to explore the Temple of Pythagoras had gradually worn off as they left the strange chamber behind them, to the point that by the time he managed to clumsily clamber after Ezio to the surface he collapsed on the ground in exhaustion, and the only way Ezio could get him back to his home was by stealing a horse. They had ridden double through the streets of Rome speaking little, Leonardo's hands clasped around Ezio's waist so as not to fall, and when they arrived at Leonardo's home Salaì had opened the door with a haste only someone who had been sitting at a window for hours on end could achieve. Ezio had eased Leonardo off the horse into his assistant's arms and watched them embrace, Leonardo in relief, Salaì openly crying, hiding a smile in the shadows of his hood as Salaì kissed his master's blackened eye. There was a great depth of affection between them, no question, but as today had shown it was all too easy for lovers to fall back into the habits and arguments of everyday routine.
The silence between them drew out like a length of rope, each man lost in his own thoughts. Leonardo was the first to flinch. "Listen to me, sighing like a maiden over her first love," he said, forcing a laugh. "Enough, you have come to see me old friend, and there must be a reason! Do you need me to do anything for you?"
Ezio didn't challenge the change of subject this time, even felt some relief in it, and sat forward unbuckling his left bracer. "I do, yes. I need you to fix one of the hidden blades, there is some stiffness to the release mechanism and I want to be sure it is working perfectly before I go to Spain for Cesare Borgia."
"Seen too much use, has it?" remarked Leonardo as he accepted the weapon. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard. Leave it with me, I will have it done by tomorrow morning."
"I appreciate the swiftness, but are you sure I am not distracting you from other projects?"
"My other projects are not of as much consequence, and with Salaì running off—" Leonardo abruptly stopped.
That did it. Deliberately Ezio placed a reassuring hand on Leonardo’s shoulder, leaning close so that the other man had no choice but to meet his eyes. "I will bring Salaì back."
The light that appeared in Leonardo's face was almost embarrassing. "Y-you will?"
"Consider it my payment for the repair. Besides, old friend, I cannot bear to see you so despondent, such an expression does not suit you at all."
He patted Leonardo's shoulder and stood to leave. Leonardo watched after him from his chair, fair face flushed. "But how will you find him?" he asked.
Ezio grinned mischievously. "Semplice. I am going to make him come to me."
Leonardo stared for a moment, then smiled, small and shy but genuine all the same. Ezio allowed his grin to widen. Then he pulled up his hood, opened the door, and stepped out into the bustling crowds of springtime Rome. The master assassin disappeared immediately.
Leonardo shook his head. "Show off," he muttered, turning to the task in hand. The smile was still on his face.
Night
Although Ezio was accustomed to doing things himself since coming to leadership in the vast city of Rome he’d come to appreciate the value of delegation. He found a thief first, a young footpad with eyes so fixed on a lady's money bag he failed to see the quartet of soldiers nearby. Ezio caught his arm just as he was about to reach for his prize, pointed out the soldiers, and gave him ten florins to pass word around that the Assassin was looking for Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, better known as Salaì, and that whoever located him and brought the news to Tiber Island would be handsomely rewarded. The chastened thief was grateful for the interruption, even more so for the florins, and effusively promised Ezio that his request would be done before scampering over the nearest wall.
A courtesan would have been next, however instead of simply stopping one on the streets Ezio went to the Rosa in Fiore itself which would give him a chance to see his sister. Unfortunately when he arrived at the brothel the courtesans informed him that Claudia was visiting Pantasilea and would not return from Campagna for another two days, so Ezio contented himself with flirting with the courtesans as he shared his coin requesting them to look for Salaì and send word when found. His donations were appreciated, almost as much as his company, meaning when Ezio finally managed to go about his way he did so with several kisses and plenty of offers, some of which he may have even briefly considered seriously.
The rest of the day was spent at Tiber Island. Free time was rare for Ezio, so he used it to its full catching up on and answering dispatches from Assassins around Europe, examining information as to Cesare Borgia's whereabouts, or simply taking the opportunity to indulge in the luxury of an afternoon out of armour. When news of Salaì did arrive at sundown it found Ezio taking a leisurely dinner with a book, or at least it did eventually. The courtesan and thief who brought it spoke first to the apprentice Assassin who answered their coded knock who after satisfying himself as to their trustworthiness respectfully alerted Ezio. Ezio immediately ordered the courtesan and thief to be allowed inside whereupon they told him that Salaì had been spotted in a tavern overlooking the river east of the Vaticano bridge.
"Buon lavoro," said Ezio. "Keep watch on him in case he moves. You," he added, nodding to the apprentice Assassin, "go to the tavern that was spoken of. Disguise yourself and speak to the young man Salaì that someone wishes to commission him for a painting, and that if he is interested to meet this person at the Mausoleo di Augusto at nine o'clock this evening. Do not take no for an answer. You will recognise Salaì by his beauty and dark blond hair which is curled and long, and by his manner of speech which is particularly conceited. In the off chance that he gets himself into trouble, make sure he remains safe."
The apprentice Assassin bowed without questioning. Ezio trained his recruits well. The courtesan and thief looked sideways at the hooded figure in dark brown and blue as if uncertain, but when Ezio pulled out a small bag of coins they brightened immediately. Once rewarded, they left together with the silent apprentice.
An hour later found Ezio back in hooded Whites, armed and armoured and running swiftly north over the city rooftops. It was a fine night, with streaks of cloud decorating the near full moon providing both enough light for Ezio to see his way and changing shadows to hide in. Occasionally he had to duck to avoid a patrolling archer but he had done that so often it was practically a game, and in any case it would be a rare guard who could match Ezio’s agility. Still, by the time Ezio had reached the Mausoleo di Augusto he was breathing hard and it was a relief to drop down into the quiet ruins. He found the deepest shadows and prepared to wait.
He didn’t wait long. A short while after the hour Ezio heard footsteps approaching keeping beat to a tuneful singing. Salaì had a good voice, Ezio could easily imagine him accompanying Leonardo’s lute, and if the smell of wine was anything to go by he was also rather drunk.
"… che piangendo al mìo dispetto convien partir da te—" The song broke off as Salaì stumbled over the crumbling flagstones of the entryway and swore. "Fucking ruins, who the hell chooses such a place for a meeting?" He picked himself up and wandered deeper inside, raising his voice as he did so. "All right – ciao, misterioso patrono, it is I, Salaì! You have called and I have come! What is this I hear of a commission? I'll have you know that I am the apprentice of the great Leonardo da Vinci so my rates while affordable are not cheap—"
Ezio winced as Salaì's voice echoed around him, hoping there were no guards patrolling close by who would hear the commotion and investigate. "There is no need to shout, I am here," he said clearly, knowing the echoes would disguise his voice. "Come into the inner ring."
He heard Salaì draw closer, and at the same time silently stepped out and around the circular wall. Salaì didn't notice. "Where are you?" he demanded. "Actually, for that matter, who are you? Your servant approached me in the tavern all flattery and insistence but refused to name his master which surely you can agree is a poor way of doing business!" Ezio quietly kept walking until he was behind Salaì, effectively blocking the entrance. "And why must we meet in such a dim unpleasant place, hm? Privacy is one thing but when taken this far it makes one wonder if there is some deformity to be concealed—"
"Salaì." The youth whipped his head around at the voice that had suddenly spoken at his back. Ezio smiled. "It is not what you think."
He stepped out into the moonlight. Salaì stiffened as he saw the white robes and realised he'd been tricked. "…Cazzo."
"Buona sera to you too. You have been enjoying yourself tonight, I see."
The amiable greeting fell flat. Salaì scowled. "What do you want with me, Assassin?"
"I want to talk to you." Ezio spread his hands, it was a gesture to show he meant no harm, but considering how much Salaì had been told about him he have would known that empty hands on an Assassin meant nothing. "You upset Leonardo rather badly this morning."
"So? It has nothing to do with you."
"Al contrario it has a lot to do with me. Leonardo has given me no end of support over the years, often at great personal risk, and is my closest friend. Did you mean it when you said you were finished with him?"
"Of course!"
"Of course?" Ezio lifted an eyebrow. "Forgive me, Salaì, but given your past attempts I find that hard to believe."
"This time is different!"
"How?"
Salaì blinked, he had obviously never considered the question before. "I-it just is! Why would I stay with that stingy maniaco del lavoro?"
"You know that is not true, or at least the 'stingy' bit. I will grant that Leonardo gets caught up in his work forgetting not everyone else is as enthusiastic as he is, but other than that he has been very good and indulgent to you."
Such a response made Salaì redden, and not just from wine-soaked anger. "That's – that's not the point!" he blustered. "In any case why do you care, Ezio, it's not as if you like me!"
"Actually, Salaì, I like you very much. You are a good fit for Leonardo; you help remind him what the rest of us fallible mortals are like. That does not mean I cannot find you irritating, and I care very much about my friend. I certainly do not like seeing him hurt."
Deliberately Ezio flexed his right wrist, extending the hidden blade with a shnik so that its sharp edge caught the moonlight. Salaì's pretty face paled immediately. "You wouldn't."
"No?"
"No!" Still, Salaì took a step back, as if such a tiny distance was any buffer against one such as the master Assassin. "Y-you wouldn't kill me, the maestro loves me!"
"You are right." Ezio retracted the blade with a chuckle. "Even if Leonardo did not love you, you are not worth killing. But I have other means at my disposal aside from that of a blade."
Salaì, although he looked visibly relieved that his throat was in no danger of sudden puncture, frowned suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
Ezio made a show of examining his cestus. "You are aware, of course, that every tailor in Roma is indebted to me. If they all refuse you service I imagine you would find it difficult to maintain your usual standard of costume. One word to my sister at the Rosa in Fiore and every courtesan in the city will make a point of having you thrown out of any place of drink or entertainment you seek to patronise. Another word to La Volpe will ensure that not only will you never set foot inside La Volpe Addormentata, but every pickpocket in training uses you for practice."
He looked up. Once again Salaì's face was turning ashen as he understood what was being said. Ezio let everything sink in for a moment more before continuing, voice softening with warning. "Furthermore, there is talk of a Milanese nobleman who is seeking an appropriate painting master for his son to apprentice to. Rumour has it the handsome young Count is very mature and accomplished despite his fifteen years, and as both migliore amico to Leonardo and Il Mentore of the Assassins I could easily arrange for his apprenticeship to be with your maestro. Even if nothing comes of it you are not the type to share attention, even if it would be good for Leonardo to have at least one assistant who does not regularly give him grief. Capisce?"
Salaì was silent, but his rigid expression was answer enough. Ezio sighed and dropped the intimidation. "I know you love Leonardo as much as he loves you," he said kindly. "I also know that eventually you are going to go back to him like you always have. I am simply here to tell you to make it sooner rather than later because otherwise you are just needlessly hurting him – and yourself."
He turned to leave. Salaì stood as if frozen, hands clenched at his sides and head bowed – for all of his faults Salaì was far from stupid, and Ezio had no doubt the youth was giving his words the proper consideration. But just to bring it home … "One more thing," added Ezio, pausing to glance over his shoulder. "Next time you quarrel, do so without the silly dramatics. Leonardo may have patience for them but I do not, and my threats are never made casually. For proof of that just look to the Borgia, or what is left of them."
Salaì twitched. Satisfied, Ezio left him to digest and walked purposefully out of the ruins heading directly for a building close by. He never looked back as he climbed; whether or not the job was done successfully he did not know, but it would wait until morning. For now, Ezio had done what he could.
Clouds passing beneath the stars. Reaching the rooftop Ezio began to run, deft and deadly, swift and silent. Above him, like a lady retiring for the night, the moon decorously slipped out of view. She took the Assassin with her.
Epilogue
Ezio pulled his ear away from the door's surface and sighed. Although he had already knocked twice to no answer he knew Leonardo was home because he could hear noises inside. For Leonardo not to answer meant only one thing: that he was hard at work, and lost in it to the point that he was completely blind and deaf to anything else. It would be possible for Ezio to come back later, but he had received information about a Romulus lair that he wanted to investigate, and given the propensity of such investigations to turn into fights he wanted his blade before setting out. He tapped his fingers considering his options.
A laugh from inside decided things. Without hesitation – it was his friend's house and apologising was easy – Ezio picked the lock and let himself in.
"Leonardo—"
Ezio stopped dead in the vestibule. Leonardo and Salaì stared back at him from the open workroom in complete surprise. The former was sitting back to the entryway with a sheet of paper and charcoal in hand. The latter stood on a small platform posing nude in a patch of morning sunlight, one finger raised to point heavenward while lower down also pointing up—
With a clatter the chair toppled to the floor as Leonardo hastily leapt to his feet cape held out to stand in front of Salaì. "E-Ezio!" he exclaimed, blushing. "I ah, did not hear you knock!"
Ezio's raised eyebrows were hidden beneath his hood. "I seem to have caught you at a bad time."
"Yes, well, we were just—" Anything further was cut off as Salaì pressed up against Leonardo from behind with a positively wicked grin on his face. Leonardo drew in a sharp breath.
"…I see." Ezio coughed awkwardly. "I ah, came to pick up my blade?"
"Your – oh, the hidden blade, yes!" Flustered, Leonardo looked around, or at least tried to while still holding out his cape to block out his assistant's lower body. "It's um, ah – oh dio where did I put it—"
He froze as Salaì languidly draped himself over his maestro's shoulders wrapping an arm around the older man's neck. Salaì's other arm gracefully stretched out to point at the workbench. "It's over there," the young man said calmly.
"Grazie." Given their position Ezio wisely went to fetch his weapon himself. "I ah, shall leave you two to work, then."
Salaì's grin widened. "Che sarebbe apprezzato, Ezio Auditore."
Leonardo, poor man, had turned red enough to light up the room. Ezio shook his head trying not to laugh at him. "I am glad to see you smiling again, old friend," he called out over his shoulder. "Do not bother moving, I can take my own leave. No doubt we will speak properly in future when your hands are not full with work."
Leonardo gave a weak smile. "Si," he said, trying to maintain some dignity, only to fail entirely as Salaì began kissing down his neck. Merrily Ezio laughed and let them be, making his exit and firmly closing the door behind him.
He left it unlocked.
finito
-----------------------------------
This was fun for the historical research I got to do on Leonardo da Vinci. Hopefully I got a reference to all of his talents and interests in his workshop. Also, I learnt some Italian!
Salaì was a very colourful fellow. He entered Leonardo da Vinci's service at the age of ten with the name Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, and was nicknamed 'Salaì' which essentially means "the little devil" for his faults which Leonardo summed up as "a thief, a liar, stubborn, and a glutton." Salaì ran away on five occasions taking money and valuables each time, spent a fortune on fashion, and in 'The Da Vinci Disappearance' DLC of the ACIIB game is characterised as a sharp haughty bitch. Despite all this Leonardo da Vinci was incredibly fond of him and they stayed together for thirty years, with Salaì even bequeathed the Mona Lisa upon Leonardo's death. Described as being "a graceful and beautiful youth with fine curly hair" Salaì is generally regarded as the model for the da Vinci painting, John the Baptist, which Leonardo apparently kept to the end of his days. (wiki)
Count Francesco Melzi was another of Leonardo's assistants, entering service at fifteen years of age in 1506. There isn't much information on him, however he was considered Leonardo's favourite student and given that he inherited much of Leonardo's works and administered Leonardo's estate upon his death it's a good guess he was far more sensible than Salaì. (wiki)
The song Salaì is singing is a frottola, a type of Italian popular secular song from the fifteenth century that is considered a predecessor to the Baroque period madrigal. This frottola is by Marchetto Cara entitled Gli è pur giunto, the lyrics for which are:
Gli è pur giunto il giorno aimè infelice e maledetto
Che piangendo al mio dispetto convien partir da te
Gli è pur giunto il giorno aimè infelice e maledetto
Infelice e maledecto
Which roughly translates to:
And although the day came, alas, wretched and cursed
I must, despite my crying, depart from you
And although the day came, alas, wretched and cursed
Wretched and cursed
Which is rather appropriate for Salaì in that scene. (No, I don't speak any Italian other than what I learnt through music and playing Assassin's Creed II, but Google Translate is awesome. I can sing, though, and there's a score for the song here.)
The final scene of Leonardo trying to hide Salai was inspired by this piece of fanart. I don't have a DevArt account, so if anyone reading has one and can spare a moment to thank the artist for me, it would be appreciated!)
The sketch Leonardo is drawing of Salai is The Incarnate Angel.
For
twigcollins.MEDIATORE
Assassin's Creed II: Brotherhood
Rome, April 1506
With practiced ease Ezio Auditore da Firenze slipped into a group of people making their way along the street. It probably wasn't really necessary – he wasn't on assignment at the moment, and generous donations to heralds ensured none of the patrolling soldiers ever had a reason to look for him – but Leonardo da Vinci had powerful patrons and it wouldn't do his reputation any good for it to be widely known that he counted an Assassin amongst his friends. Not just an Assassin, the Assassin, the one who had driven the Borgia out of Rome and brought about the downfall of Pope Alexander VI and Cesare Borgia himself. True, unlike his father the Captain General who had ruled Rome with an iron fist was not yet dead, only exiled to Spain, but Ezio planned on taking care of that, and soon.
All this was farthest from Ezio's mind as he quietly detached himself from the group of passer-bys and headed for a door of an unassuming building. Out of habit he checked his surroundings, left and right, before lifting his armoured hand to knock – and paused as he heard raised voices from inside.
"—ver pay attention to my needs or what I want—"
"You know that's not true, when have I ever denied you anything—"
"I've been holding this position since dawn! Il mio dio you know I have plans to go out and—"
"Gamble away my money again?"
There was a crash.
"Please! Calm down – oh cielo, you nearly knocked the canvas over—"
"Fuck the canvas it's your fault for upsetting me! Why are you starting a new work anyway when you have so many to finish—"
"It's not a new work, I'm redoing the Baptist that was lost—"
"Then redo it from memory instead of bothering me because this is it I am finished with you, maestro, understand? Rifinito!"
"Salaì—"
Hurried footsteps approached the door. Ezio blinked as it was yanked open to allow a young man with long ringlets to storm out half dressed in the process of pulling on a shirt with a loose doublet in hand, a dramatic exit that was abruptly cut short when he ran straight into Ezio's chest. "Cazzo! Watch it, idiota, or I'll—" The young man looked up and realised it was. "Ezio?"
Ezio gave a smile of greeting. "Buon giorno, Salaì."
Salaì, assistant, student, companion and more to Leonardo da Vinci, returned the smile but it was a twisted one, even on his beautiful face. "Buon giorno, assassino. Come to visit the maestro, have you?"
"I have, yes. You are leaving?"
"Aye, and forever!" Salaì pulled his shirt on properly but didn't fasten the ties. "I have had enough of this work and you may tell the maestro that if wants to keep painting me he can do some from his dreams!"
He stepped around Ezio and began to hurry away down the street. Had Ezio been younger he would have rolled his eyes, but since he wasn't he simply sighed and moved after him. "Salaì, I'm sure you're overreacting—"
"Overreacting? When he insists I hold pose for hours on end without break? This, my friend, this is not overreacting this is simply escaping!" Salaì had turned to walk backwards as he spoke in order to face Ezio, and with arms gracefully flung outwards for emphasis carrying the doublet he looked like an angry butterfly. "Or perhaps if you do think I'm overreacting, why don't you model for him yourself, hm? Then you will see what I mean! Addio!"
With that the young man hurried away, almost knocking over a woman with a parasol in the process. She screeched profanities after him as he disappeared into the late morning crowds no doubt on his way to either a tavern, a tailor, La Volpe Addormentata, or all three in some order, and Ezio sighed once again. Now that the door was open there was no point knocking, and in any case his exchange with Salaì would have alerted Leonardo that he had a visitor. From what Ezio had heard and seen already he could make a good guess as to the state he would find his friend in, which would have to be dealt with before he could even ask about his own business … he braced himself, lowered his white hood, and went inside.
The ground floor of the house that was Leonardo's workshop was, quite frankly, a scene of organised chaos. Sketches and notes covered every available surface, including some stuck haphazardly between the strings of a lute. A wooden table had the remains of a meal and drink on it alongside small-scale models of contraptions Ezio knew not what, while a small pile of journals nearby seemed to have been turned into a candle holder and was covered in streams of wax. In one corner there stood what seemed to be a suit of wooden armour, in another the dismantled frame of the flying machine. The full bookshelf walls at least seemed to be in some sort of order but alongside the books there were also bones placed about like so many ornaments: the skeleton of a bird, the skeleton of a fish, several skulls from various animals, a human hand and forearm … Ezio tore his eyes from them to focus on the figure standing in the middle of everything, back towards him, leaning forward with hands braced against a painting frame on which sat a working canvas. Carefully Ezio approached the slumped shoulders. "Leonardo?"
The figure stirred and straightened. Leonardo da Vinci turned to give him a tired smile, a far cry from the warm embrace he usually greeted Ezio with. "Ezio old friend, what a pleasant surprise. I ah, apologise for the mess."
"It is nothing, I am used to your ways. Are you all right?"
"No worse than usual. Did you see where Salaì ran off to?"
"Unfortunately not, but I suspect the usual places. If he's not at those I can always put word out to find him." Ezio hesitated a moment. "So how bad was it this time?"
"Oh, it's silly, Salaì was supposed to be posing so I can sketch composition lines for a painting and I might have kept him at it too long. I told him just a little more, just a little more, he finally got fed up and – well, you heard the rest." Leonardo's head dipped again and Ezio silently got him a chair so as to sit down. Leonardo took it with gratitude. "Perhaps I am too demanding."
"You do tend to get caught up in your work," said Ezio, taking a second chair opposite. "But Salaì is your assistant, he's modelled for you before, surely he should be used to it."
"He is, but he is also restless. In any case this incident is probably more an excuse rather than a cause; you would think after the Borgia and cult of Hermes my life would be quiet, but with Salaì that is not the case."
Ezio diplomatically shrugged. "You gave Salaì his name for a reason."
"And he does his best to live up to it. Gambling, lying, gluttony – he has at least twenty pairs of shoes and still claims a need for more – histrionics that would make an actor blush, not to mention thieving. I expect he snatched my purse on his way out."
"But you put up with it." Ezio eyed a pair of cups on the table and snagged them along with the wine flagon – a drink, perhaps, to go with the talking would do his friend good.
"I do. Grazie." Leonardo took the cup and drank deeply. "You must think me a fool."
"A fool?" Ezio laughed as he poured out his own drink. "Leonardo, you are many things but a fool is not one of them. The things that have tumbled out of your mind over the years I have no shame in admitting that I cannot even begin to comprehend them. It would be no lie to say that is only through your genius that I have come as far as I have, old friend."
Leonardo's cheeks flushed behind his beard. "You flatter me. But if I am not a fool in profession, then I am at least one in love."
"And you would be far from the first, believe me," replied Ezio wryly. "So you indulge Salaì, granted, but give him time and he'll grow out of it – he is young after all."
"Only in mind. Anatomically I can testify to his full adulthood but that in itself is – Ezio, are you all right?"
With a bit of effort Ezio managed to stop his violent coughing without spilling his drink – aware as he was of Leonardo and Salaì's relationship, he could do without the mental imagery. "... I am fine. Please, ah, continue."
"Oh. As I was saying, it is curious how the human mind and the human body can mature at comparatively different rates. It is something I would study, but I am less inclined to such efforts when I know the subject so intimately. Or perhaps I am just getting old."
"The fact that you cannot make a study of someone you care for has given me great comfort over the years. Though you are right, the two of us, we are no longer young."
Leonardo smiled ruefully. "You at least look it. Still charming half the ladies in Roma, I am sure. Have you heard from Caterina?"
"She is still in Firenze." Ezio refused to dwell on the pang of their parting. "She wrote recently to update me on the progress of her campaign to regain her lands. But you are trying to change the subject. This fight with Salaì, how bad was it?"
Leonardo sighed. "I cannot say. There have been worse where he has run away, and while he eventually comes back I never know when that will happen. Until he does, it feels as if I am hanging suspended limp above a pit wondering whether this time he really did leave for good …"
Or stupidly got himself killed, thought Ezio, though he kept his face expressionless. Given Salaì's ability to annoy people it was a perfectly possible risk, and while the youth was handy with a knife he wouldn't stand a chance if he angered a group of mercenaries or soldiers in a tavern somewhere. Not that Ezio intended on mentioning this. "He will certainly return to you," Ezio said instead. "If nothing else, he is going to need money eventually."
The joke failed to get a smile. "Even if he does return, I cannot help but think about whether it would be right," Leonardo murmured softly. His hands around the cup were tight. "Salaì, he's been with me since he was ten years of age, that's more than half his life now. Faithful as he has been more or less, I sometimes wonder if I should release him the way I do with birds in the marketplace. But then I think about his care for me, his delight in accomplishing some new task or the way he wept when he saw you had rescued me …"
Ezio remained quiet, remembering the night he had brought Leonardo back after his kidnapping by the Hermeticists. The adrenalin that had sustained his friend despite his beating to explore the Temple of Pythagoras had gradually worn off as they left the strange chamber behind them, to the point that by the time he managed to clumsily clamber after Ezio to the surface he collapsed on the ground in exhaustion, and the only way Ezio could get him back to his home was by stealing a horse. They had ridden double through the streets of Rome speaking little, Leonardo's hands clasped around Ezio's waist so as not to fall, and when they arrived at Leonardo's home Salaì had opened the door with a haste only someone who had been sitting at a window for hours on end could achieve. Ezio had eased Leonardo off the horse into his assistant's arms and watched them embrace, Leonardo in relief, Salaì openly crying, hiding a smile in the shadows of his hood as Salaì kissed his master's blackened eye. There was a great depth of affection between them, no question, but as today had shown it was all too easy for lovers to fall back into the habits and arguments of everyday routine.
The silence between them drew out like a length of rope, each man lost in his own thoughts. Leonardo was the first to flinch. "Listen to me, sighing like a maiden over her first love," he said, forcing a laugh. "Enough, you have come to see me old friend, and there must be a reason! Do you need me to do anything for you?"
Ezio didn't challenge the change of subject this time, even felt some relief in it, and sat forward unbuckling his left bracer. "I do, yes. I need you to fix one of the hidden blades, there is some stiffness to the release mechanism and I want to be sure it is working perfectly before I go to Spain for Cesare Borgia."
"Seen too much use, has it?" remarked Leonardo as he accepted the weapon. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard. Leave it with me, I will have it done by tomorrow morning."
"I appreciate the swiftness, but are you sure I am not distracting you from other projects?"
"My other projects are not of as much consequence, and with Salaì running off—" Leonardo abruptly stopped.
That did it. Deliberately Ezio placed a reassuring hand on Leonardo’s shoulder, leaning close so that the other man had no choice but to meet his eyes. "I will bring Salaì back."
The light that appeared in Leonardo's face was almost embarrassing. "Y-you will?"
"Consider it my payment for the repair. Besides, old friend, I cannot bear to see you so despondent, such an expression does not suit you at all."
He patted Leonardo's shoulder and stood to leave. Leonardo watched after him from his chair, fair face flushed. "But how will you find him?" he asked.
Ezio grinned mischievously. "Semplice. I am going to make him come to me."
Leonardo stared for a moment, then smiled, small and shy but genuine all the same. Ezio allowed his grin to widen. Then he pulled up his hood, opened the door, and stepped out into the bustling crowds of springtime Rome. The master assassin disappeared immediately.
Leonardo shook his head. "Show off," he muttered, turning to the task in hand. The smile was still on his face.
Night
Although Ezio was accustomed to doing things himself since coming to leadership in the vast city of Rome he’d come to appreciate the value of delegation. He found a thief first, a young footpad with eyes so fixed on a lady's money bag he failed to see the quartet of soldiers nearby. Ezio caught his arm just as he was about to reach for his prize, pointed out the soldiers, and gave him ten florins to pass word around that the Assassin was looking for Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, better known as Salaì, and that whoever located him and brought the news to Tiber Island would be handsomely rewarded. The chastened thief was grateful for the interruption, even more so for the florins, and effusively promised Ezio that his request would be done before scampering over the nearest wall.
A courtesan would have been next, however instead of simply stopping one on the streets Ezio went to the Rosa in Fiore itself which would give him a chance to see his sister. Unfortunately when he arrived at the brothel the courtesans informed him that Claudia was visiting Pantasilea and would not return from Campagna for another two days, so Ezio contented himself with flirting with the courtesans as he shared his coin requesting them to look for Salaì and send word when found. His donations were appreciated, almost as much as his company, meaning when Ezio finally managed to go about his way he did so with several kisses and plenty of offers, some of which he may have even briefly considered seriously.
The rest of the day was spent at Tiber Island. Free time was rare for Ezio, so he used it to its full catching up on and answering dispatches from Assassins around Europe, examining information as to Cesare Borgia's whereabouts, or simply taking the opportunity to indulge in the luxury of an afternoon out of armour. When news of Salaì did arrive at sundown it found Ezio taking a leisurely dinner with a book, or at least it did eventually. The courtesan and thief who brought it spoke first to the apprentice Assassin who answered their coded knock who after satisfying himself as to their trustworthiness respectfully alerted Ezio. Ezio immediately ordered the courtesan and thief to be allowed inside whereupon they told him that Salaì had been spotted in a tavern overlooking the river east of the Vaticano bridge.
"Buon lavoro," said Ezio. "Keep watch on him in case he moves. You," he added, nodding to the apprentice Assassin, "go to the tavern that was spoken of. Disguise yourself and speak to the young man Salaì that someone wishes to commission him for a painting, and that if he is interested to meet this person at the Mausoleo di Augusto at nine o'clock this evening. Do not take no for an answer. You will recognise Salaì by his beauty and dark blond hair which is curled and long, and by his manner of speech which is particularly conceited. In the off chance that he gets himself into trouble, make sure he remains safe."
The apprentice Assassin bowed without questioning. Ezio trained his recruits well. The courtesan and thief looked sideways at the hooded figure in dark brown and blue as if uncertain, but when Ezio pulled out a small bag of coins they brightened immediately. Once rewarded, they left together with the silent apprentice.
An hour later found Ezio back in hooded Whites, armed and armoured and running swiftly north over the city rooftops. It was a fine night, with streaks of cloud decorating the near full moon providing both enough light for Ezio to see his way and changing shadows to hide in. Occasionally he had to duck to avoid a patrolling archer but he had done that so often it was practically a game, and in any case it would be a rare guard who could match Ezio’s agility. Still, by the time Ezio had reached the Mausoleo di Augusto he was breathing hard and it was a relief to drop down into the quiet ruins. He found the deepest shadows and prepared to wait.
He didn’t wait long. A short while after the hour Ezio heard footsteps approaching keeping beat to a tuneful singing. Salaì had a good voice, Ezio could easily imagine him accompanying Leonardo’s lute, and if the smell of wine was anything to go by he was also rather drunk.
"… che piangendo al mìo dispetto convien partir da te—" The song broke off as Salaì stumbled over the crumbling flagstones of the entryway and swore. "Fucking ruins, who the hell chooses such a place for a meeting?" He picked himself up and wandered deeper inside, raising his voice as he did so. "All right – ciao, misterioso patrono, it is I, Salaì! You have called and I have come! What is this I hear of a commission? I'll have you know that I am the apprentice of the great Leonardo da Vinci so my rates while affordable are not cheap—"
Ezio winced as Salaì's voice echoed around him, hoping there were no guards patrolling close by who would hear the commotion and investigate. "There is no need to shout, I am here," he said clearly, knowing the echoes would disguise his voice. "Come into the inner ring."
He heard Salaì draw closer, and at the same time silently stepped out and around the circular wall. Salaì didn't notice. "Where are you?" he demanded. "Actually, for that matter, who are you? Your servant approached me in the tavern all flattery and insistence but refused to name his master which surely you can agree is a poor way of doing business!" Ezio quietly kept walking until he was behind Salaì, effectively blocking the entrance. "And why must we meet in such a dim unpleasant place, hm? Privacy is one thing but when taken this far it makes one wonder if there is some deformity to be concealed—"
"Salaì." The youth whipped his head around at the voice that had suddenly spoken at his back. Ezio smiled. "It is not what you think."
He stepped out into the moonlight. Salaì stiffened as he saw the white robes and realised he'd been tricked. "…Cazzo."
"Buona sera to you too. You have been enjoying yourself tonight, I see."
The amiable greeting fell flat. Salaì scowled. "What do you want with me, Assassin?"
"I want to talk to you." Ezio spread his hands, it was a gesture to show he meant no harm, but considering how much Salaì had been told about him he have would known that empty hands on an Assassin meant nothing. "You upset Leonardo rather badly this morning."
"So? It has nothing to do with you."
"Al contrario it has a lot to do with me. Leonardo has given me no end of support over the years, often at great personal risk, and is my closest friend. Did you mean it when you said you were finished with him?"
"Of course!"
"Of course?" Ezio lifted an eyebrow. "Forgive me, Salaì, but given your past attempts I find that hard to believe."
"This time is different!"
"How?"
Salaì blinked, he had obviously never considered the question before. "I-it just is! Why would I stay with that stingy maniaco del lavoro?"
"You know that is not true, or at least the 'stingy' bit. I will grant that Leonardo gets caught up in his work forgetting not everyone else is as enthusiastic as he is, but other than that he has been very good and indulgent to you."
Such a response made Salaì redden, and not just from wine-soaked anger. "That's – that's not the point!" he blustered. "In any case why do you care, Ezio, it's not as if you like me!"
"Actually, Salaì, I like you very much. You are a good fit for Leonardo; you help remind him what the rest of us fallible mortals are like. That does not mean I cannot find you irritating, and I care very much about my friend. I certainly do not like seeing him hurt."
Deliberately Ezio flexed his right wrist, extending the hidden blade with a shnik so that its sharp edge caught the moonlight. Salaì's pretty face paled immediately. "You wouldn't."
"No?"
"No!" Still, Salaì took a step back, as if such a tiny distance was any buffer against one such as the master Assassin. "Y-you wouldn't kill me, the maestro loves me!"
"You are right." Ezio retracted the blade with a chuckle. "Even if Leonardo did not love you, you are not worth killing. But I have other means at my disposal aside from that of a blade."
Salaì, although he looked visibly relieved that his throat was in no danger of sudden puncture, frowned suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
Ezio made a show of examining his cestus. "You are aware, of course, that every tailor in Roma is indebted to me. If they all refuse you service I imagine you would find it difficult to maintain your usual standard of costume. One word to my sister at the Rosa in Fiore and every courtesan in the city will make a point of having you thrown out of any place of drink or entertainment you seek to patronise. Another word to La Volpe will ensure that not only will you never set foot inside La Volpe Addormentata, but every pickpocket in training uses you for practice."
He looked up. Once again Salaì's face was turning ashen as he understood what was being said. Ezio let everything sink in for a moment more before continuing, voice softening with warning. "Furthermore, there is talk of a Milanese nobleman who is seeking an appropriate painting master for his son to apprentice to. Rumour has it the handsome young Count is very mature and accomplished despite his fifteen years, and as both migliore amico to Leonardo and Il Mentore of the Assassins I could easily arrange for his apprenticeship to be with your maestro. Even if nothing comes of it you are not the type to share attention, even if it would be good for Leonardo to have at least one assistant who does not regularly give him grief. Capisce?"
Salaì was silent, but his rigid expression was answer enough. Ezio sighed and dropped the intimidation. "I know you love Leonardo as much as he loves you," he said kindly. "I also know that eventually you are going to go back to him like you always have. I am simply here to tell you to make it sooner rather than later because otherwise you are just needlessly hurting him – and yourself."
He turned to leave. Salaì stood as if frozen, hands clenched at his sides and head bowed – for all of his faults Salaì was far from stupid, and Ezio had no doubt the youth was giving his words the proper consideration. But just to bring it home … "One more thing," added Ezio, pausing to glance over his shoulder. "Next time you quarrel, do so without the silly dramatics. Leonardo may have patience for them but I do not, and my threats are never made casually. For proof of that just look to the Borgia, or what is left of them."
Salaì twitched. Satisfied, Ezio left him to digest and walked purposefully out of the ruins heading directly for a building close by. He never looked back as he climbed; whether or not the job was done successfully he did not know, but it would wait until morning. For now, Ezio had done what he could.
Clouds passing beneath the stars. Reaching the rooftop Ezio began to run, deft and deadly, swift and silent. Above him, like a lady retiring for the night, the moon decorously slipped out of view. She took the Assassin with her.
Epilogue
Ezio pulled his ear away from the door's surface and sighed. Although he had already knocked twice to no answer he knew Leonardo was home because he could hear noises inside. For Leonardo not to answer meant only one thing: that he was hard at work, and lost in it to the point that he was completely blind and deaf to anything else. It would be possible for Ezio to come back later, but he had received information about a Romulus lair that he wanted to investigate, and given the propensity of such investigations to turn into fights he wanted his blade before setting out. He tapped his fingers considering his options.
A laugh from inside decided things. Without hesitation – it was his friend's house and apologising was easy – Ezio picked the lock and let himself in.
"Leonardo—"
Ezio stopped dead in the vestibule. Leonardo and Salaì stared back at him from the open workroom in complete surprise. The former was sitting back to the entryway with a sheet of paper and charcoal in hand. The latter stood on a small platform posing nude in a patch of morning sunlight, one finger raised to point heavenward while lower down also pointing up—
With a clatter the chair toppled to the floor as Leonardo hastily leapt to his feet cape held out to stand in front of Salaì. "E-Ezio!" he exclaimed, blushing. "I ah, did not hear you knock!"
Ezio's raised eyebrows were hidden beneath his hood. "I seem to have caught you at a bad time."
"Yes, well, we were just—" Anything further was cut off as Salaì pressed up against Leonardo from behind with a positively wicked grin on his face. Leonardo drew in a sharp breath.
"…I see." Ezio coughed awkwardly. "I ah, came to pick up my blade?"
"Your – oh, the hidden blade, yes!" Flustered, Leonardo looked around, or at least tried to while still holding out his cape to block out his assistant's lower body. "It's um, ah – oh dio where did I put it—"
He froze as Salaì languidly draped himself over his maestro's shoulders wrapping an arm around the older man's neck. Salaì's other arm gracefully stretched out to point at the workbench. "It's over there," the young man said calmly.
"Grazie." Given their position Ezio wisely went to fetch his weapon himself. "I ah, shall leave you two to work, then."
Salaì's grin widened. "Che sarebbe apprezzato, Ezio Auditore."
Leonardo, poor man, had turned red enough to light up the room. Ezio shook his head trying not to laugh at him. "I am glad to see you smiling again, old friend," he called out over his shoulder. "Do not bother moving, I can take my own leave. No doubt we will speak properly in future when your hands are not full with work."
Leonardo gave a weak smile. "Si," he said, trying to maintain some dignity, only to fail entirely as Salaì began kissing down his neck. Merrily Ezio laughed and let them be, making his exit and firmly closing the door behind him.
He left it unlocked.
finito
-----------------------------------
This was fun for the historical research I got to do on Leonardo da Vinci. Hopefully I got a reference to all of his talents and interests in his workshop. Also, I learnt some Italian!
Salaì was a very colourful fellow. He entered Leonardo da Vinci's service at the age of ten with the name Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, and was nicknamed 'Salaì' which essentially means "the little devil" for his faults which Leonardo summed up as "a thief, a liar, stubborn, and a glutton." Salaì ran away on five occasions taking money and valuables each time, spent a fortune on fashion, and in 'The Da Vinci Disappearance' DLC of the ACIIB game is characterised as a sharp haughty bitch. Despite all this Leonardo da Vinci was incredibly fond of him and they stayed together for thirty years, with Salaì even bequeathed the Mona Lisa upon Leonardo's death. Described as being "a graceful and beautiful youth with fine curly hair" Salaì is generally regarded as the model for the da Vinci painting, John the Baptist, which Leonardo apparently kept to the end of his days. (wiki)
Count Francesco Melzi was another of Leonardo's assistants, entering service at fifteen years of age in 1506. There isn't much information on him, however he was considered Leonardo's favourite student and given that he inherited much of Leonardo's works and administered Leonardo's estate upon his death it's a good guess he was far more sensible than Salaì. (wiki)
The song Salaì is singing is a frottola, a type of Italian popular secular song from the fifteenth century that is considered a predecessor to the Baroque period madrigal. This frottola is by Marchetto Cara entitled Gli è pur giunto, the lyrics for which are:
Gli è pur giunto il giorno aimè infelice e maledetto
Che piangendo al mio dispetto convien partir da te
Gli è pur giunto il giorno aimè infelice e maledetto
Infelice e maledecto
Which roughly translates to:
And although the day came, alas, wretched and cursed
I must, despite my crying, depart from you
And although the day came, alas, wretched and cursed
Wretched and cursed
Which is rather appropriate for Salaì in that scene. (No, I don't speak any Italian other than what I learnt through music and playing Assassin's Creed II, but Google Translate is awesome. I can sing, though, and there's a score for the song here.)
The final scene of Leonardo trying to hide Salai was inspired by this piece of fanart. I don't have a DevArt account, so if anyone reading has one and can spare a moment to thank the artist for me, it would be appreciated!)
The sketch Leonardo is drawing of Salai is The Incarnate Angel.
![The Incarnate Angel](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Leonardo_da_Vinci_-_Angelo_Incarnato.jpg"){kind=link}