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8/8/2019 Garo's Novella
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Garo Hartounian Period 1 Modern European History,
Mr. Knaus
Historical Novella, ranging 1815-1915
The Assassin of Italia
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5 Historical Characters:
1) Giuseppe Mazzini
2) Giuseppe Garibaldi
3) Victor Emmanuel II
4) Camillo Benso (Count Cavour)
5) Napoleon III of France
5 Historical Events:
1) 1814 - Napoleon abdicated his throne and Italy was broken up into smallkingdoms
2) 1820s-1850s Small revolutions in the kingdoms - Venice, Rome and
Tuscany declare themselves Republics3) 1849 - Austria regains control of most of Italy
4) 1959 - Austria is defeated and driven out of Italy with the help of Napoleon III and France
5) 1860 - Northern Italy was joined to the Kingdom of Sardinia
6) 1861 - The Kingdom of Italy was formed under the leadership of GiuseppeGaribaldi and Victor Emmanuel II was crowned king
7) 1912 - Italy defeats the Ottoman Empire in the Italo-Turkish war
8) 1914 - Eve of World War I
3 Economic/Social/Political Trends:
1) Developing Nationalism (by the members Italian society)
2) Imperial Military Expansion (not only by the Austrian Empire into Italy butby Italy itself into Libya)
3) Political cooperation and unity to form one Italian nation (VictorEmmanuel's crowning as king of Italy)
3 Works of Art:
1) Basilica di San Saturnino in Cagliari, Sardinia
2) Doge's Palace designed by Filippo Calendario- architectural form of art inVenice
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3) Apotheosis of Venice (oil on canvas) by Paolo Veronese in the Doge'sPalace
Chapter 1 -
"I still can't believe it," murmured one signore to his companion as
he flipped through the newspaper over his morning coffee in the quaint
Venetian cafe.
"What? You thought he would last forever? That his power had no
boundaries?" his friend replied back.
"It seemed so, he was such a great force. It seemed as if all of
Europe was already in the palm of his hand, and all he had to do was
close it into a fist for it all to be his."
" Amico mio, no man is omnipotent, no man can play God. He was
bound to fall. It was only a matter of time until his pride and arrogance
caught up with him."
At his friend's response, the signore sighed deeply. "I suppose so... I
guess I should be happy now that Italia is no longer in danger of being
engulfed by that French empire."
"Buono! That's the side of it from which you should be looking. But
enough of this, we will be late for work if we don't leave soon."
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The two men finished their coffee, left their payment on the table,
stood up and left.
A few tables behind where the pair had just been seated was a
young man in his teens who couldn't help but be affected by overhearing
the recent conversation. He got up and slowly walked over to the
vacated table. One of men had left his paper behind with the front facing
up. Dated 1814, its headline read "Napoleon Cade!". Angelo Salvatore
picked it up and skimmed the cover story; he couldn't help but sense a
storm looming on the horizon for Italia.
~~~~~~~~~~
The work of Angelo Salvatore was not a business that could be
openly advertised. It was not something one could go to a regular school
to learn, or easily train one's self in. His trade was something that must
always be kept highly discreet, and to be carried out in not only most
efficient, but also the most covert manner. To the knowledge of those
who only needed to know, Signore Salvatore specialized in the trade of
taking lives.
It was his father's work before him, his father's father's work before
that and so on. The Salvatore family had a long lineage of assassins that
dated back to the days of the Holy Roman Empire. At a young age Angelo
was trained by his father in the physical aspects of assassination as well
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as the philosophy behind the lifestyle, where it was ingrained into him
that innocents must never be harmed, and only those people who have
become corrupted to the point of taking, endangering, or harming the
lives of the innocent must be silently removed from this world.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was not so difficult infiltrating the compound. One would think the
Austrian army would take better precautions to guard their officers.
"Perhaps they are becoming overconfident," thought Angelo as he scaled
the far wall of the house in which a prominent Austrian colonel was
staying the night. It was a job he was discreetly hired to carry out by the
Carbonari, a secret association with bold political goals. Put simply, it was
the Carbonari's desire to see a unified Italia under fair terms and one flag.
Angelo was sure there was more to it, but that was all he was told for the
moment.
After passing and peering into many windows, he reached one
through which he could confirm a visual of his target. He had learned all
too well that the colonel was a wicked man that had taken many innocent
lives and stood to take many more with no intention of stopping.
Angelo ever-so-silently opened the window and stepped into the
room. His padded shoes made it so it was practically impossible for any
man to hear his footsteps as he made his way to the colonel's bedside. Of
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course there were patrols he had to evade and obstacles to overcome,
but it still seemed too easy.
As he stood less than a meter from his target, he suddenly felt
pangs of guilt and doubt. Who was he to take this man's life? Had he
personally seen every transgression of this man? But as soon as the guilt
came it left his mind. His father's teachings kicked in, he had read the
reports, personally seen other brutality carried out by the Austrian army.
He realized the power to save many lives by taking this corrupt one lied in
grasp, and he would be a fool to waste this opportunity.
He extended his hidden blade and plunged it into the colonel's
heart. The colonel's eyes shot wide open and his body jerked, but only for
a moment; it soon went limp as his life on earth was ended.
"Riposi in pace," he incited as he brushed his fingers over his
victim's eyes in order to close them. It was all part of the last rites he was
taught to offer his victims, so that their deaths were not dishonorable and
so that they might find peace.
Angelo left as quietly as he had come. He would be long gone
before the Austrians even discovered his deed.
Chapter 2 -
Angelo quietly sat in the office and waited for his employer to come
meet him. He looked around the small, dimly lit room and saw it was kept
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surprisingly plain. It was his guess that this Carbonari member and his
associates changed their headquarters often in an attempt to escape the
prosecution most Italian states threw their way. In these early 1800's, the
scattered Italian states in power seemed to enjoy their autonomy and had
no wish for unification. Not even close to every Italian had similar wishes
though, especially those men willing to risk their lives in underground
associations such as the Carbonari to see their whole nation unified.
On that thought, he heard someone walking towards the door of the
office, his employer no doubt. The door was opened and in walked the
man he'd been waiting for.
"Ah, Angelo, it is so good to see you," he said.
Angelo stood to meet him and shook his hand.
"Likewise, amico mio. In these hectic times I barely do anymore,
Giuseppe."
"All too true, but we do good work. There will be time enough for
friendship once Italia is united under a single flag," Giuseppe replied.
"Understood my brother, may it be as you wish."
Giuseppe Mazzini was no small-time revolutionary. He was a gifted
leader with a strong, patriotic heart. He hated to see the individual
autonomous Italian states remaining in power, refusing to unite over
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things as simple as greed and foolish pride. If that separation wasn't
enough to plague his mind, the presence and danger to Italia offered by
the Austrians burdened him even more. Angelo could clearly notice the
premature lines as well as grey, thinning hairs Giuseppe was
accumulating.
Giuseppe went over to a small cabinet, opened it and procured a
bottle of red wine with three glasses and proceeded to uncork the bottle.
Angelo glanced over and took note of the third glass.
"Will someone be joining us, Giuseppe?"
"Ever the observant one, Angelo. Yes, I want you meet someone
today. He is new to join our cause, but I see great potential in him. There
is a certain fire in his eyes when it comes to the well being of Italia."
As Giuseppe handed Angelo a glass of wine, Angelo heard another's
footsteps approaching the door. Soon it enough it was suddenly thrown
wide open, revealing an impressive man in uniform and a full beard. His
sword was strapped to his side and he seemed to be able to lead a great
deal of men into battle on a moment's notice.
" Buongiorno, Signore Garibaldi. Angelo, I would like you to meet
Giuseppe Garibaldi, a new and very promising member of our
organization," Mazzini said.
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Angelo extended his hand to Garibaldi, who grabbed it and shook
with impressive vigor.
"Piacere," Angelo said in slight surprise at the man's enthusiasm
and strength.
" Piacere, piacere, my brother. It is always good to meet any man
dedicated to our cause," Garibaldi replied.
Angelo looked Garibaldi over. He had definitely heard of the man
before. He'd heard Garibaldi was a talented, inspirational military leader,
who led his own personal band of soldiers called the Red Shirts. This was
a man worth keeping an eye on, and certainly not a man to be trifled
with.
After Angelo and Garibaldi had been acquainted, Mazzini urged
them both to have a seat on the modest chairs present in the office.
Angelo could sense that his friend and employer was about to tell them
something very important.
Mazzini cleared his throat just as everyone was seated and began,
"I've called the two of you here today to discuss something of the utmost
importance to our cause. The Austrian occupation of Italia is becoming
more prominent. It's a very troubling matter. The fact that our provinces
are vying for independence in this dire hour where unity is what we need
to drive the invaders out does not help at all. Tuscany, Rome and Venice
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have already declared themselves independent republics. My brothers,
we have no time for rest or leisure in the coming years. We must fight
tooth and nail to see our country stand united and free."
Chapter 3 -
Mazzini wasn't lying when he said the coming years would be rough.
In the few decades following 1820, Italia had been thrown into chaotic
turmoil. Angelo had worked harder than he ever thought possible. The
number of lives he took and the amount of blood he spilled “for Italia”
were nothing short of staggering. He was assigned by the nationalists to
kill key figures in no small number. His targets included everything from
Austrian military officials to even Italian politicians that served to oppose
national unity and fight for the continued existence of their segmented
city-state. He blatantly had to refuse a good number of contracts though
due to the innocence of some of his potential targets; many were overall
good men who were merely fighting for what they truly believed in and
had themselves not acted in a corrupted fashion and harmed innocents.
This sometimes angered his superiors, but his set of skills were too
valuable to pass up, and there was no shortage of bad men to be killed as
his consecutive assigning of alternative targets demonstrated. He killed
and he killed, with each swift motion of his blade pushing the scale in
favor of a united Italy, free of the oppressive, invading Austrian presence.
In his campaign Angelo seemed to have visited every corner of Italy,
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including Rome, Sicily, Venice, Florence, and most importantly, Sardinia.
Oh, Sardinia. There was no doubting Sardinia was special. Out of all the
Italian provinces, it held the greatest sense of leadership and drive for
national unity, primarily emanating from the source of two great men:
King Victor Emmanuel II, and Camillo Benso, also known as the Count of
Cavour. He still vividly remembered the day he met Victor and Camillo...
"Who better than an assassin to protect against assassination?"
Angelo thought to himself as he made his way through the streets of
Cagliari, the capital of Sardinia, to the disclosed rendezvous point. His
assignment was to be a personal bodyguard to King Victor Emmanuel II
and his prime minister, Camillo Benso. The two leaders were scheduled to
march around Cagliari, rally the inhabits, then return back to the city
center where King Emmanuel II was to deliver a speech to the capital of
his province to try and sway them in favor of a united Italia under one
flag. The king was fairly popular with his people, but Angelo's superiors
feared that there would be opposition at the speech, Italians or even
foreign agents who did not wish to see Italia united. Victor Emmanuel was
the prime candidate to rule a united Italian nation, and if he or even his
prime minister were killed, a great blow would be dealt to the unification
effort. Thoughts racing through his mind, Angelo arrived at the
rendezvous point ahead of schedule. He glanced around the square, and
saw nothing but ordinary people tending to their everyday lives.
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However, something to the south of the city center caught his eye: it was
none other than the Basilica di San Saturnino. It looked like an ancient
but powerful building as Angelo made his way to read the cornerstone. It
was built in the 5th Century, its Baroque facade, ancient columns,
sculpted parts serving as a true piece of architectural art. In the midst of
his appreciation, Angelo tilted his head upward and noticed the time on
the clock of an adjoining building; there were only a few minutes left until
the rendezvous. He rushed over to the palace doors just in time to meet
Emmanuel and Benso exit the palace with their honor guard. The king
heartily greeted him and shook his hand as he introduced himself and his
advisor, and then asked Angelo for his name.
"My name is Angelo Salvatore, my king, and know that I will do
nothing less than my best to protect you and your honorable prime
minister today."
The King gave a deep, lively laugh and said, "Ah, Angelo, your
dedication and desire to assure my safety is appreciated, but I don't even
think it will be necessary!"
"Regardless, my king, one can never be too prepared," Angelo
answered.
"Perhaps, amico mio. But come, the people wait for us."
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And so they began their procession around the city, the king and
prime minister waving to the people from their mounts, the honor guards
forming a tight perimeter around the two, and Angelo vigilantly scanning
the crowds for any source of danger.
They circled the city and returned back to the center with no
problems, and after being introduced by the Count of Cavour, King
Emmanuel delivered his speech. It was nothing short of empowering and
inspirational, drawing roars of applause from the audience.
As Angelo continued to scan the crowds, he did not neglect to lend
an ear to the King's words. He had a strong feeling that this man was fit
to unite and rule Italia.
Chapter 4 -
The years leading to the 19th Century's mid-point were rough for
Italia, to say the least. Austria continued to push for domination of Italy,
and they managed to maintain a steady streak of success until 1849, at
which point they gained nearly full-control of the Italian lands. Needless to
say, there was a fierce sense of opposition among the Italian people once
a foreign power seized control of the lands their ancestors had inhabited
for countless generations. The resistance attempts flared up, and Italians
took up arms all across the land, calling one another brother and realizing
the strength to oust Austria could be found in unity. With the combined
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efforts of key figures like Garibaldi with his personal militia, King Victor
Emmanuel II of Sardinia, and especially the swift blade of a certain
shadowy assassin, the Austrians' power fell into a decline throughout the
decade following the very year they seemed to be in their prime. It was
exactly ten years after Austria's triumph in 1849 that it was badly
defeated by the combined forces of France and Sardinia at the Battle of
Solferino, a battle Angelo had personally participated in. It was there he
was able to witness first-hand the political and military talents of King
Emmanuel II in his cooperation with the leader of the French forces,
Napoleon III. Seeing Napoleon first-hand was almost eerie, as Angelo,
along with all of Europe, was nowhere close to forgetting the legacy of the
first Napoleon. But this Napoleon seemed different. As he had silently
watched and listened to King Emmanuel sit and discuss political dealings
as well as military strategy with that ruler of France, he noticed a certain
grace about him. There was certainly not as much sheer power exuding
from Napoleon III as there was from his predecessor, but he seemed like a
respectable man who was truly capable of successfully leading the nation
of France justly into prosperity. After all, he had also been of great aid to
Italia in expelling the Austrian occupation of its land so that in the few
coming years the Italian provinces could be successfully joined together
and Victor Emmanuel II crowned king of the entire nation. It seemed the
calm after the storm had arrived, and things fell relatively quiet in Italia.
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~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was beating down on the city of Venice as Angelo browsed
through the marketplace for groceries. At this point he was middle-aged
and officially retired from his work; he would never again pick up his
blade unless absolutely necessary. He filled his shopping bag with large,
golden apples from a stand as he mused about the almost-unsettling
peace that his life was now encompassed by. At the same time, he
couldn't help but feel robbed, robbed of time and of life as he gave
himself so dedicatedly to his work throughout his life. He turned around,
making his way over to the vender to pay when a woman behind him did
the same and crashed into him, causing his apples to spill all over the
floor.
"I.. I'm so sorry signore, me dispiace," she frantically said and she
bent down to gather the apples before Angelo could even catch a glimpse
of her face.
"Don't worry, non ti preoccupare. It's quite alri..." Angelo began, but
in the same instance the woman raised her face to meet his, leaving him
speechless. She was probably the most beautiful woman Angelo had ever
seen in his life. They locked gazes for at least a few minutes, but it felt
like hours.
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He had to know this woman, somehow become a part of her life. He
reached out and took her delicate hand, raising it to his lips, and gently
pressed his lips to her smooth skin.
"My name is Angelo, Angelo Salvatore. Might you be so kind as to
let me know yours?"
The woman's face turned a shade of pink as she blushed lightly at
Angelo's introduction.
"Well aren't you the gentleman? My name is Maria, Angelo, and it a
great pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is entirely mine," Angelo replied. "Tell me Maria,
would you be interested in spending the evening with me? We can call it a
date."
Maria's blush deepened as she seemed to be considering the offer.
"Nothing would please me more, I am yours for the evening,
Angelo."
~~~~~~~~~~
Linked arm in arm, the couple gradually walked through Venice,
engaged in genuine conversation, and laughing merrily with one another.
Angelo treated his date to dinner and after their meal Angelo decided to
visit the Doge's Palace with Maria.
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"It gets more beautiful every time I look at it," sighed Maria as they
arrived at the palace via gondola and docked. Angelo paid the boatman
and the two stepped off to stand in front of the structure. It stretched
magnificently from side to side, with beautifully carved columns
embedded with crosses all the way through the width. After a few
minutes, Angelo and Maria entered the palace, now converted into a
museum of sorts, to admire the artwork on display. There were many
great pieces on display, but Maria found one in particular to be
outstanding, and led Angelo over to it.
"This is one of my favorite pieces, Angelo, the Apotheosis of Venice,
painted by Paolo Veronese. Do you see the various horizontal levels of
people present, and how angels are the top-most level in heaven while
the brutal soldiers and horses of war are at the lowest level?"
Angelo nodded, impressed by Maria's familiarity and insight with
art. Following this, the couple strolled around for some time more, until
Maria let a yawn slip.
"You are tired, Maria. Allow me to take you home."
"I.. no, it's fine, I.." started Maria, but she was interrupted by
another yawn.
"Come, my dear, this night is certainly not the last we'll spend
together, Angelo assured.
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Chapter 5 -
The two were made for each other. Their love for one another was
remarkable, and they were never satisfied with the amount of time they
could spend together. Their marriage was inevitable, and in time they
produced two twin baby boys together: Marco and Lucio. Angelo was
extremely happy with the birth of his sons, but with them came the
obligation of his continuation of the family tradition. All firstborn Salvatore
males were required to be trained in the art of just assassination that had
been passed down for countless generations, and in this unique case
Angelo had two to train.
~~~~~~~~~~
The boys grew quickly. They were energetic and full of life, as well
as highly intelligent and clever. A mischievous pair, but that was only a
side effect of their inborn cunningness. They were eager to learn, and
looked up to their father like he was their hero. They played along
exceptionally when Angelo began to personally train them every evening
after dinner, not informing them of the true nature behind the training,
but just physically conditioning them and preparing their bodies for the
extraordinary tasks they would eventually have to undertake. It was on
their eighteenth birthday that Angelo entrusted them with the assassin's
code and purpose, and the boys accepted it with open arms.
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However, as excited as they were to become genuine assassins,
their joy was short-lived. Their father, having lived a full life and content
at fulfilling his purpose, passed away of old age before they were even
20; their mother followed closely after due to her overwhelming
heartbreak. The boys were devastated, but they still each other.
Searching for purpose in their lives, they contacted covert ops
organizations of the new Italian government and became agents
dedicated to serving their nation.
~~~~~~~~~~
Marco and Lucio were extremely talented and valuable to their
government. They were favorites of their superiors, ruthlessly efficient in
their assigned tasks; often they were called the "silent army of two".
It was only natural that their talents were in constant demand as
tensions between Italia and the Ottoman Empire were climbing from the
late 19th Century into the early 20th over expansion into Libya. Whether
it was an unstable member of the native resistance who stood to harm
Italy's interests as well as innocents in the area, or Ottoman officials with
the same goals in mind, the Salvatore brothers were very good at making
such problems disappear.
Though regardless of their talents, there was only so much two men
could do. The conflict between Italy and the Ottomans eventually
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escalated into a full-scale war in 1911, the Italo-Turkish war, that lasted
over a full year. Italy however, with all its 'assets', came out on top,
seizing the provinces in northern Africa that were under Ottoman control.
After the Italian victory in Africa though, it was very difficult to enjoy
the momentary peace, especially for the Salvatore brothers who were
sent out to Great Britain, France, and even Italy's former enemy, Austria,
in order to spy and gather national intelligence. They picked up on
significant continental tensions, but it was in Austria where the two
definitely felt the greatest amount.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their assigned city was Sarajevo, the capital of the Austro-
Hungarian province of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Their task was relatively
simple: to keep an ear out while mingling in with the people for any
valuable intelligence that could hold any form of importance on the
national level.
They were seated at a cafe on the outskirts of the city where reports
had indicated activity of a Serbian underground terrorist organization
called a Black Hand. Tensions were already dangerously high between the
different ethnicities in the Austro-Hungarian empire, and it seemed like
this organization was one to be watched carefully as it posed a threat to
the peace in Europe.
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The two brothers were having some coffee and pretending to read
their newspapers when a band of sketchy-looking men barged into the
cafe to have a seat a few tables over.
It was clear they were angry about something as demonstrated by
their violent boy language and growling voices.
One of them was especially loud, "These dirty Austrians think they
can oppress our people and suppress our culture?! Do they think we'll be
quieted so easily?! Huh!"
The other men in the group barked loudly in agreement with their
comrade.
Marco and Lucio exchanged glances. They didn't need to exchange
words to realize the feeling that they each felt if such tensions existed in
a nation that could potentially throw all of Europe into war. They couldn't
help but sense that a storm was looming on the horizon for Italia.