bartender at the Grunta tavern, of Grunta
“I pour ale, break up fights when the miners get loud, and keep this place standing. It's a roof and board, and nobody owes me nothing.”
Things Emma Miller had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Compline
The miners from Kuttenberg were louder than usual tonight, reeking of rock dust and spoiling for a fight. I had to slam a trencher down hard just to get paid for a pitcher of ale. My feet ache, and Matilda's still going on about that carter Julian. I told her he's halfway to Prague and won't take no messages.
Nota scribaeShe sighed three times before beginning and twice more during the telling.
the first day of May, at Prime
They say the King's still locked up by his brother, and bread's dearer every week. Agnes barks through her barred door to count the pennies twice. It's the war, she says. I say it's just soldiers taking what isn't theirs, same as always. At least the roof doesn't leak.
Don't speak so loud about the King, Emma. Soldiers hear everything, and they'll burn the place down.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at None
I was down on my hands and knees in the ashes by the hearth last night, looking for a copper coin I dropped. Joan asked what I was doing creeping about in the dark. I told her to mind her own business. If a girl wants to look for her own hard-earned penny, she can.
You were crying, Emma. I heard you. A penny's not worth tears.
It was the ash in my eyes, you daft cow. Just leave it.
Nota scribaeShe grew angry when I asked why a single copper coin required a search in the dark.
the Feast of St Gregory, at Sext
Matilda is weeping again about her father, Prokop, thinking he's just sitting in Kolin waiting for a letter. God's truth, a refugee on the roads with the Hungarian troops about is likely dead in a ditch. I didn't say it out loud, because Joan lies to her to keep the peace. I just sighed and wiped down the tables.
He's alive! You're just bitter because your Reginald got taken by the levy and you're all alone.
Keep Reginald's name out of your mouth, Matilda, or I'll box your ears.
the day after Candlemas, at Vespers
I lost something yesterday. Just a cheap thing, dropped it in the dirt while carrying ash from the hearth. It slipped right off my finger. I sifted through the floor rushes for an hour but it's gone. Bloody hell. It's just a thing, but I want it back.
I'll get you a silver one when I come back from the lord's war, Emma. Just you wait.
Whoever told the scribe to write that cruel joke, I'll spit in your beer.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted when the landlady shouted for ale from the back room.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
He might have taken word to my father in Kolin if you hadn't chased him out with your sharp tongue.
He was drunk and feeling my skirts, Matilda. I did what Agnes pays me to do.