‘Gianni!’ hissed Mario.

The man looked up and immediately undid the reins by which the horses were tethered to a huge iron ring set into the wall of the inn. Mario instantly leapt down from the rooftop, landing in a crouch, and from there sprang into the saddle of the nearer, and larger, of the two horses. It whinnied and trod the earth in nervous anticipation.

‘Shh, Campione,’ said Mario to the animal, and then, looking up to where Ezio still stood on the parapet, he yelled, ‘Come on! What are you waiting for?’

‘Just a minute, Zio,’ said Ezio, turning to face two Borgia guards who had managed to struggle up to the roof and who were now facing him with - to his astonishment - cocked pistols of a type that was new to him. Where the hell had they got those from? This was no time for questions, though, so he whirled through the air at them, unleashing his Hidden Blade and slicing each neatly through the jugular before they had a chance to fire.

‘Impressive,’ said Mario, reining in his impatient horse. ‘Now, get a move on! Cosa diavolo aspetti?’

Ezio threw himself off the roof to land close by the second horse, which was being held firmly by the hunchback, then he rebounded off the ground to spring into the animal’s saddle. It reared excitedly under his weight but he immediately had it under control and wheeled it round to follow his uncle as he rode fast towards the Tiber. At the same time Gianni disappeared into the inn, and a detachment of Borgia cavalry tore round the corner into the square. Digging his heels into the horse’s flanks, Ezio sped after his uncle as they made their way at breakneck speed through the broken-down streets of Rome towards the dirty, sluggish river. At their backs they could hear the shouts of the mounted Borgia guards, cursing their prey as Mario and Ezio galloped through the maze of ancient streets, slowly pulling further away.