maidservant at pekaruv Dum, of Bylany
“I render the fat and scrub the blood from the stone for a lying master.”
Things Christine had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Ascension, at Sext
Another week and still no coin. Master Roger locks his heavy wooden box in the house while I stink of the rendering vats. If that burgher Havel comes down from Kuttenberg to collect his bond, I hope he breaks the whoreson's legs. Sakra, I have earned my silver.
Nota scribaeShe spat on the floor after the word silver.
the eve of St Mark, at Vespers
Jan is shouting again about the shed roof leaking. Let it rot, I say. Vashek just sits there nursing his old bones, terrified he will be turned out if he speaks up. There is no luck left in this yard.
It is easy for you to say, you get to sleep in the kitchen.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Isabel was weeping by the blood-pits last night over her Julian. A butcher's daughter with a full belly crying because her suitor is away at a forge in Prague. Kurva, some of us are terrified of starving on the roads.
You have a cold heart, Christine. You never knew my mother.
Leave the poor girl be, she suffers enough without your bitterness.
Nota scribaeDictated while the woman scrubbed gore from her fingernails.
the Friday before Palm Sunday, at None
The mistress came out to the vats today, holding her back and sighing as if she does the real work. I skim boiling fat until my hands blister, and she plays the noble lady of the house. What a jest.
Ash Wednesday, at Compline
The master says the wages will come next week, or when the spring lambs sell. It is a lie. I washed the stone with lye soap today and saw not a single penny for it. It is a daily insult.
Have some patience. The silver will come when the time is right.
Nota scribaeThe woman used a curse I refused to set down.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Mind your tongue, or you will find yourself out on the road.
Pay me what you owe from Lent and I will gladly walk.