pouring ale at the tavern, of Grunta
“I pour ale for strangers and wait for word from my father in Kolin. I try to keep out of the drunkards' way and Agnes's temper.”
Things Matilda Turner had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
Joan went to the market at Sedletz today for lye. I begged her again to find a carter heading north and pay him to carry my words to Kolin. She promised she would ask. I am wiping my apron to threads waiting for her to come back.
Nota scribaeShe wrung her coarse apron the whole time she spoke.
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
Julian the carter drank here last month on his way to Prague. I should have asked if he passed through Kolin, but the taproom was so loud and I was too frightened to go near him. He left before I could find my courage. I pray he returns.
He was a rough sort anyway, you did well to stay back in the kitchen. I chased him off the bench when he wouldn't pay.
the Monday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Two winters since my father Prokop walked north. I pray at the wayside cross every morning that he is not dead in a ditch somewhere. Agnes was barking for the cellar keys before the sun was even up, so I had to make my prayers quick today.
If you hauled water as fast as you talked, we would not run dry before Sext. Get back to the taproom.
Nota scribaeDictated while drawing water. The bucket was leaking onto her shoes.
the Friday after St Valentine, at Sext
My hands are cracked from spills and the well rope. The Kuttenberg miners were grabbing at the girls again last night. I shrank back to the wall and let Emma handle them. She is much braver than I am, though she looks so tired lately.
Someone has to clout them when they forget their manners after too much ale.
Candlemas, at Compline
Emma has lost her wits. She has spent every free hour in the dark sifting through the floor rushes and the hearth dirt, saying she dropped a copper coin. I offered her a penny from my own belt to stop the frantic digging, and she just snapped at me.
Keep your bloody penny, Matilda. You know nothing of what it was I lost.
Leave her be, Matilda. She is just weeping for Reginald since the levy took him away.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted by a loud crash from the taproom.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I looked for a carter, Matilda, truly I did. But there were only fierce-looking soldiers on the road, and you know how they frighten me.