Read The Perfect Human: An Abelard Chronicles Book Page 84
Abelard returned to the Piazza del Campo. From there he headed towards the Duomo, but followed a circuitous route through a neighbourhood with renaissance buildings sharing narrow twisting alleyways and haphazardly placed arches. If he had to choose his spot for tomorrow’s battle, this would be it. The streets were too narrow for automobiles and the masses of stone, on the streets, on the walls and in the overhanging arches would render it almost impossible to pinpoint the source of any and all sounds. It was an ideal spot to confront a much larger force, which he fully expected Dona Maria to have at hand. It would be like confronting heavy horse in a forest, which imposed severe limits on their massed advantage. Then there was a larger roadway, separating the Piazza del Campo from the stone forest, if he chose to meet the enemy on a more open field. Abelard was content as he filled his camera with images that he would study more closely at his hotel.
His next stop was at a shop which specialized in authentic period weaponry, every piece as serviceable as any medieval warrior could have expected. He picked out a crossbow, big enough to kill a large human but not so big as to make drawing the string a major impediment to rapid shooting. He chose a mace with a one kilogram spiked ball attached to a solid grip with a half meter chain. There was a comforting reliability about a weapon that managed to retain its popularity for so long, from the Stone Age right through to the sixteenth century. It was as useful for smashing skulls as it was for striking terror and, in a pinch could be used to knock down annoying partitions when doing home renovations. Add a few knives and he had what he needed. He explained to the clerk that he was throwing a costume party and these were for ambiance.
Hs last stop was at the stables, just outside the old walls, where horses were boarded for the Palio, Siena’s ruthlessly contested races. Yes, they did rent horses but to be ridden only under the strictest of supervision and only on designated trails. Yes, of course they can maneuver on cobblestones, the races, after all, are run around the Piazza del Campo and what do you think they have there, dirt? He was being treated as a village idiot by the head groom. The demeaning arrogance was quickly replaced by sniveling obsequiousness as the 1000 euro note floated slowly to the dusty stable floor, as though it had inadvertently been drawn from Abelard’s pocket when he pulled out his sunglasses and made ready to leave. No, no my friend, rules are only guidelines here. Where would we be if rules ruled our lives? We would certainly not have three Palio champions in this stable, now would we? For another 500 euros, to be paid the following day, Abelard could also leave his bulky bag at the stables. To demonstrate how much he valued good faith in others, Abelard pierced the 1000 euro note with a knife, which he drew from the bag, and threw it into a thick supporting beam, ten meters distance. He looked carefully at the groom and his sudden loss of colour was evidence enough that he had understood just how deeply Abelard felt about complete honesty. He smiled and promised to return just before noon the following day to collect the horse and his bag.