Piazza Torlaro tells:
"The Witch"


Bartolo, the fisherman, took me there. He arrived home one evening, it must have been the Vespers, all agitated ... He has a lot of children and I thought that something had happened to one of them ... He couldn't put the sentences together: he had run ... I understood: "He's dying, you have to save him!"

Men do not give birth and do not have the moon phases of the cycle, they do not keep a creature in their belly for 9 months, they do not know, even if they make wars and die in battle. But I know how to do it: I've seen the world for a few years ... I gave him a sberlone right in the face! He looked at me I thought he was going to kill me. Instead he apologized and explained to me: he was worried about that monk who arrived some time ago on the island, that Martino who ran away with his companion on the Gallinaria so as not to be killed by those others who believe in God like him, but not they are afraid of killing brothers just because they don't think exactly like them ...

I don't understand these men of the Church, men of faith, men of God, who if a brother falls, they stab him instead of extending his hand. What masters!

Okay, in short, that Martino seemed half dead to Bartolo, who occasionally went to the island to get news. The younger friar was desperate: Martino was saying nonsense, he seemed possessed, possessed, he rolled his eyes, he could not be touched, he had repeatedly had fetid discharges, and motionless in his sweat and disgust, he was breathing hard ... I just asked : "What is this madman eating?" Herbs, roots and water ...

Of course! May the Almighty Lord help me and watch his monk as Ghita does what he knows. That Bartolo was waiting for me: I had to prepare a decoction! I didn't know what I would find on the island and those two madmen maybe didn't even have fire ...

I am used to healing from the poisons of the body and soul, I can almost always turn the child to give birth without tearing the mother, to put back a broken arm or a broken leg, to sew a deep wound: I had to try this too time. I had to succeed: I liked that monk by instinct, even if I didn't know him. The fact remains that he was stupid.

I had never been so quick to prepare a medicine: I put the liquid in an earthenware container, I took some pieces of cloth and a tunic, a blanket and my tools. Once on the boat, I threatened Bartolo not to sway too much, since the sea was calm: I could not spill my precious liquid.

The younger boy was on his knees, not far from his dying companion, praying. The stench of excrement could be heard from afar. Martino hardly breathed, only a gasp. “Boy, keep on praying, but go get me a bucket of water! You, Bartolo, hold my torch! Quick! "

I approached: I have a strong stomach, fortunately. That man was dying. That man ate roots and had chosen the wrong ones: hellebore, which frees the viscera and the mind, making it wander in unknown and terrible lands, very poisonous and difficult to dose even for those who know it ... I took it and I am leaning on his chest, I opened his lips and, helped by Bartolo, I forced the decoction down his throat. He coughed a little. Good sign. I rocked him like a baby: it didn't take long. From his bowels all the poison ingested came out in gushes of vomit that freed him. It took a while ...

The young man had arrived with the bucket: we tore off pieces of cloth and with a wet cloth I wiped his face: now he was breathing, slowly more and more regularly. We stripped and washed it, removing dirt, rubbish and stink. I scrubbed him with fennel and mint, to perfume his skin and give him relief in his breath ... Too weak, he couldn't walk, so the two men carried him to the cave where they live. I arranged for him a bed with the blanket: Bartolo will bring it back to me when he can, and I made a soup: those two fools used to be ascetics to save the world with prayer and in the meantime they were dying of starvation ...

I stayed on the island 1 day and 2 nights: I wanted to be sure that the monk would recover, and to return to Albenga I preferred not to be seen. The second night, weak and exhausted, Martino was much better, and we talked for a long time. In the rare moments of lucidity that the poison had granted him, he had prayed a lot: he was sure that the Most High would have listened to him and, if he thought he was still useful to the world, he would have saved him… ”You are still useful. God listened to you, see? He sent me. He chose the chain of human beings to save a foolish friar who does not know herbs and poisons himself without asking his permission ... The strength of the chain, one hand holding the other, holding the other, holding the other, Bartolo, Ghita, your companion, links in the chain that pulled you up from the abyss. Never eat this plant again! " and I showed it to him well, then, put it in a leather bag, I tied it to his waist ... "Never again, or not even God will be able to save you!".

“Ghita, may God bless you for your goodness. You gave me life again as a second mother, in a second birth. Thank you".

We hugged each other and I felt that my life had perhaps been a little useful in the service of others ... This foolish monk, after all, was a great man of God. And if he liked him, he might also like me!

Clue to the next square

"Horse" route

If the letters of the alphabet correspond to a number (A = 1, B = 2, C = 3, etc.), what is written in the following numerical message?

4 5 10 ● 17 1 16 18 13 ● 5 ● 10 1 ● 11 13 7 10 9 5 ●

1 ● 17 1 12 ● 17 9 16 13 ● 20 9 ● 1 3 3 13 7 10 9 5

"Cloak" path

Bravo, you have visited all the squares!
Now run to Piazza San Michele to conclude your journey