The assassin clutched at his chest as he made his way into the courtyard he had been directed towards. 'Thank you', the guide had said. Thank you for what? He had agreed to nothing. He had been brought here against his will and at a very critical time. That man, Borgia, he knew his name. With that information he could find the others, his lovely wife Maria, their children. Maybe that man was not evil enough to target his family... Federico, Ezio, Claudia, and Petruccio might still be safe, but he would not be there to make certain of it!

The doubts of a worried father filled his mind as he paused a moment to lean against the wall of one of the run down looking buildings, avoiding as much of the rain as possible. It had not been readily apparent before, but now the blood from his injury was beginning to seep from the wound and color his white assassin's robes. Borgia's blade had missed the vital organs but the bleeding would still need to be stopped. Before he could consider anything else he had to survive this. Then he could work on finding his way back to his family and working out what all of this talk about a war was.

He pushed away from the wall and continued on to the center of the market. There might be a doctor here among the crowd. But as he searched the faces none of them wore the trademarked mask of a Renaissance plague doctor. So much for that plan. He would have to try the direct approach, Giovanni walked up to the nearest person he saw and asked.

"Mi scusi, could you direct me to the establishment of a Doctor?"