soldier of the garrison, of Suchdol
“I stand watch, scrub rust from my mail, and wait for wages that never seem to arrive.”
Things David had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at None
Humphrey has asked me again to carry word to his kin. I am not walking the roads for his errands. I cannot even find a carter going toward my own valley to tell my blood I am not dead in a ditch. Let him find a wandering friar.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on the floor upon mentioning the roads. I wiped it up.
the feast of St Pancras, at Vespers
Scrubbing rust off my mail again. The rain never stops. If they paid us in groschen instead of moldy bread, I might mind the damp less. Tobias, save me a spot by the fire and whatever watered ale you have left.
I have half a cup left. Hurry up before Anthony drinks it.
the Tuesday after Easter, at Terce
Edmund will not shut his mouth about the skirmish in the mud. He claims I was out of position. I say if he had held his ground, that poor lad would not have been left behind. If an officer hears this whoreson crying, we will both be flogged.
You stepped left when the line held firm! It is your fault he did not come back.
Hold your tongue before I tie it in a knot. The mud was to your knees.
Nota scribaeHe looked over his shoulder three times while dictating this complaint.
the second Sunday of Lent, at Sext
They read the Pope's decree to us today. We are to speak our lives into a book. Christ Almighty, does the Holy Father want to read about me sharpening a spear? The bread is dearer this year and half of it is sawdust. Write that down.
Aye, sawdust and weevils. A man needs real meat to stand in the cold.
Nota scribaeDictated during his watch. I did write it down, God help me.
Candlemas, at Prime
We marched out of camp and into the thickest clay God ever laid on the earth. A bad skirmish on the road. We survived, mostly, but the boy Edmund is already making noise about who stood where. I should have stayed in my village and starved quietly.
I know what I saw in the mud, David. You know it too.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is barely a morning's walk, David. My brother needs to know.
Walk it yourself. My boots have holes enough.