hired hand at the yard, of Grunta
“I am an old hand here. I tend the beasts, mend the fences, and wait for the Lord.”
Things William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
Still no sign of the wooden dove in the yard dirt. Thomas says a rat took it, but the lad is a fool. Tuma the clerk rode past today. I saw him take a groschen last year to let a rich man bide while poor men bleed for Sigismund. Crooked as a bent nail.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before speaking the clerk's name.
the feast of St Florian, at None
Replaced three rotted posts down by the pasture. My hands ache. Frantishek is grumbling about his ruined shoulder again, and still moaning over Thomas breaking the cart axle. I told him to demand the wheel grease back and have done with it. A stubborn pride feeds no one.
It is my grease, William, and my shoulder that suffers for his clumsy ways.
Aye, and your mouth that suffers no rest.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
The bells rang for the risen Lord, but the church feels empty without Father Peshek. He was a good man. Thomas owes his estate money for a penance, and loud excuses will not pay the dead. I will spend the day in the stables. The oxen are quieter company.
I will pay the estate before Whitsun, I swear it.
He was a gentle priest. We shall not see his like soon.
Nota scribaeDictated in the stable. The beasts were indeed very quiet.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
John jumped at the sound of a falling pitchfork today, thinking it was the bailiff's men coming for him. I pity his terror, but a man must trust in God. We are all dust in the end. Isabel gave us weak pottage for supper, but it filled the belly.
the week of Candlemas, at Compline
I reached into my tunic this evening and found the pocket empty. Klara's dove is gone. She carved it for me with her own paring knife before the fever took her. I will walk the yard every night until I find it. I cannot let her face fade.
A hard loss, William. She was a kind woman and a hard worker.
I will keep an eye out when I sweep the yard, William.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his stubbled chin the entire time he spoke, looking near to tears.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Christ preserve us, William. Do not speak of the clerk so loud, he will take us both.
I only meant you should stop looking in the dark, old man.