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Marco has hold of the mule's harness and is leading it through the streets of Mirandola. Being pulled by the mule is a small cart carrying Ferran. Around Ferran's neck is his caduceus, ironically sitting next to his neck wound that has been haphazardly stitched closed. The majority of the bleeding has stopped but his labored breathing makes it clear that more is draining back into his lungs and stomach. His face is deathly pale and sweat and blood drench his clothes. Packed next to him are the bags they had brought for the trip, and Giorgio limps along behind.

Marco approaches the closed gates of Castle Pico, the home of Don Giovanni.

- Worry no more, Ferran my friend! We have arrived! - Marco points at the castle, admiring the walls and the keep itself - looks like a powerful man lives here, I hope he will help you and me. You fine? - Marco waits for a nod, then approaches the gate and looks for a knocker.
- Hello there, good people!

After a few moments a man's head leans out from behind one of crenelations above. He has short curly black hair and a crooked nose. "Aye. What's your business?" he calls down.

Marco steps back a little to speak with the man more comfortably.
- We are looking for Don Giovanni, is he present?

He calls back. "He lives here, aye. But he doesn't take visitors." He looks over at Ferran covered in blood lying in the cart. "What's this then?"

- That's my friend, he was wounded during the travel.
Marco closes to the cart and whispers to his friend: Do you want me to show them this caduceus? Maybe they'll let us meet with Giovanni then...

Ferran slowly nods yes. Then he tries to speak, which comes out like hoarse croaking.
- Tell...'im......Am....bro..gio.....sent..us
and he explodes in a violent bloody cough, nearly fainting from the exertion.

- Easy, easy Ferran... it's gonna be fine.
Marco goes back to the wall and presents the caduceus.
- Will you please take it to Don Giovanni? I'm sure he'd like to see that and maybe he'll change his mind. My friend here was sent to your master by his mentor, Ambrogio.

"Ambrogio?" He exclaims. "That's a name I haven't heard for a long time." He ponders for a moment then continues. "Alright. Pass it through the portcullis." He disappears from the top of the wall and a minute later presents himself at the gate by Marco. He is wearing a maille shirt, covered by a tabbard with the Duchy of Mirandola crest emblazoned over the heart. "Reach your arm through." he says, careful not to get close to the bars himself.

Marco turns over to Ferran for a second, rolls his eyes over and smiles just slightly at this level of cautiousness displayed by the guard. But then he does what the man asked for, politely reaching his arm with the caduceus hanging from his fingers, shining and twirling around.

Not five minutes pass before the guard returns, followed by a man in his early thirties with shoulder length hair. He is wearing a long black robes with with baggy red sleeves, dragging it's coattails on the ground behind him; a distinctly out of date style. He approaches to within inches of the gate to try to get a better view of Marco and Ferran. "How did you get this?" he demands, holding up the caduceus.

Giovanni Pico

Marco stares at the man in disbelief, shocked by his young age. A couple of breaths later, he turns to Ferran as if waiting for him to respond - only to realize his friend cannot talk!
- You're Don Giovanni? Ummm... yes, this pendant... my friend here told me it was a gift from his mentor, Ambrosio - Marco looks at Ferran, looking for a confirmation... or maybe an advice?

Ferran tries to speak once again as loudly as he can. His anguish, plain for all to see.
- Ma..es...tro....Gio..vv...an...i...
The strain is too much for the wounded Catalan. His eyes roll and he faints.

Giovanni grinds his teeth while he deliberates. "Open the gate." He says to the guard. "And send for the doctor immediately." He turns back to speak to Marco while the guard goes to lift the portcullis. "What happened to him? How long ago?"

The portcullis makes a loud groaning sound as it begins to inch it's way upwards.