hired hand at the butcher's, of Bylany
“I haul carcasses and chop bones for Master Roger, the same as I've done since before the old master passed. A man works the block and keeps his head down.”
Things Vashek had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Compline
Jan was cursing the roof in the shed again tonight, swearing he'd fetch the master out of his bed to see the leak. I told the lad to bide his time. Shouting won't mend the timber, and a quiet mouth keeps a man fed.
Nota scribaeThe man rubbed his shoulder the whole time he spoke. I asked if he was injured, and he claimed it was the chill.
the Feast of St Pancras, at Vespers
The wind today was bitter cold. Reckon it's just the damp getting into my bones, giving me a chill in the shoulder. Hand was stiff on the cleaver this morning, but I broke down three hogs before None. I can still do a day's work with the best of them.
the second day of Easter week, at Terce
Poor Edith was weeping in the yard over her bone comb. The master took it for a broken crock, and she needed it for her vow to walk to Sedletz. It's a hard thing, but Master Roger's word is law in this yard.
the Feast of St Gregory, at None
Isabel is a stubborn lass, arguing with her father over that journeyman Julian. It only brings trouble to the house. I remember her mother, God rest her soul. Mary used to bring us watered beer when the work was heavy. The yard hasn't been the same since she took the fever in ninety-nine.
My mother would have understood about Julian! She wouldn't have let him sell me off for the shop's debt.
Get back to the kitchen and hold your tongue! A butcher's daughter doesn't marry a penniless smith.
Nota scribaeThe man crossed himself when he spoke the dead wife's name.
Candlemas, at Sext
Five winters today since the wheel broke on the road to Kuttenberg. A bad business that was, the cart turning over and the barrels coming down. Mistress Lucy and I don't speak of it, but a man remembers. The Lord spared us both, praise be.
We were spared to keep working, Vashek. That's what the master expects. Keep your strength up.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You can bide your time in the wet, Vashek. Master Roger promised us planks before Lent, and the rain comes through like a sieve.
Aye, he did. But he's got Master Havel's bond on his mind, lad. Best not to push him when his purse is empty.