Campy needed to change drag somewhat. Instead of the touring shorts he had on bib overhauls, loose with a long sleeve Tee shirt. A hat, sensible shoes and a bit lower profile. Michel, the crippled cyclist, told Campy it was his legs, and that, out there in your face attitude, that gave him away. Campy took the hint and dressed like his new boss. And he liked it, with thunder thighs and beach ball buns he had plenty of room for his junk. And it hid him like a chameleon, just another blue-collar, working stiff, like a hundred million other tough luck men.
The two men rode working bikes, three wheelers that had a trunk. The cargo space held all the tools including a collapsible bike stand. Then there were the bicycle components, probably sixty kilos in spare parts, tubes, tires and tape. The bikes rode well enough once Campy got use to turning a tricycle. The weight slowed them on the hills, and fortunately there were few between town and the Chateau De Claudes.
It was a magnificent stone edifice. The drive from the main highway was over a mile, all with trimmed shrubbery, green lawns, water fountains and statues. On the way Michel talked with Campy.
"Remember, you keep your head low, let me do the talking and act like you can't tie your shoes."
"Got it." Campy rode next to Michel now that they were off the highway, "They must have a fortune to have all this."
Michel laughed, "There fortune lies in terrorizing the town. Everything you see," Michel said as he waved his arm in a circle, "Came from the backs of those the de Claudes have enslaved, like me, where could I get work as a crippled cyclist? You don't do what you're asked at the price they want? Accidents happen. Bad accidents. They are hated within a hundred miles of this spider's web."
"Why was I hunted so?"
"Oh, you don't know? Why to turn you in would bring a high price. A very high price. In fact, how do you know I'm not doing it now?" Michel stopped his bike, we were inside the walls of the Chatau and had just turned into the servants area. The iron gate closed behind with a hard clunk.
To be continued....
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