hired hand at the smelting works, of Kuttenberg
“I keep my head down and pay my own way. I do not look for any trouble.”
Things Claus had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The bailiff is calling the muster soon. I am wringing my hands raw. Hermann took my silver to buy a padded jack and a helm for us both, and he pawned the armour for beer. When my name is called, I will be standing in my shirt. The watchmen will put me in the pillory.
Nota scribaeThe speaker rubbed his hands together the entire time he spoke. I had to ask him to stand still.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
The soldiers on the roads are eating this town dry. The carters bring less grain, and bread costs twice what it did last year. I carried slag baskets all day until my back felt broken, and the wages barely bought a thin crust. I wish I was anywhere but here.
It is the Hungarians and the Cumans taking the tolls. We all starve together in the stable, lad.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Compline
It is suffocating in this dark stable. Nicholas keeps pacing and begging Tobias to take a message to his mother Mandelina in Suchdol, but the mercenaries make the roads deadly. Kunz and Lamprecht are shouting again over borrowed tools. I only want to sleep, but they will not stop.
My mother is trapped out there with soldiers all around. You have no heart, Claus.
If Lamprecht wants to keep quiet, he can stop crying about his miserable picks.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper, as if the man feared his stablemates would hear him from across the town.
the Monday after Ash Wednesday, at None
Widow Barbara came to collect the rent for the stable. She said if any of us were short a single penny by Sunday, she would drop the bar on the door and lock us out in the freezing mud. She has no mercy for honest men who work the furnaces.
I pay my own rent to the town, you foolish boy. The mud is free.
Candlemas, at Terce
The town council ordered a levy for the war. I gave all my savings to Hermann so we could pool our silver for the padded jack and the helm. It is hard to part with so much groschen, but a man has to do his part for Kuttenberg.
You are a trusting fool, Claus. I would not give Hermann a brass button to hold.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The winter was hard, Claus. A man needs ale to stay warm. I will win the coin back at dice before the bailiff looks our way.
You said that a month ago, Hermann. We are going to be whipped.