hired hand sorting ore, of Kuttenberg
“I sort the ore at the surface to keep from starving, Lord preserve us. A man must keep his head down.”
Things William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The bailiff is inspecting the militia soon, Lord preserve us! I paid good silver for that quilted jack. Albrecht, you must give it back. If I fail the muster they will put me in the pillory. I cannot pay a fine. I cannot!
Nota scribaeThe man was wringing his hands so hard I feared he would break his own fingers.
the second day of Easter week, at Compline
Slept under a leaky cart behind the shambles. My joints ache from the damp earth and I am hacking up grey phlegm again. Lord preserve us. I weep for the widow Elishka. A penny a week for a warm hearth, and now her nephew has thrown us all out.
I miss her cellar, and I miss her stew. The new man is a bastard.
the eve of St George, at Sext
The German foreman tried to throw out a good rock today. I have an eye for the silver, Lord preserve us, even under all this dross. I broke it with my hammer and showed him. You have to be quick or you miss a shift, and I will not starve.
The foremen are blind as moles, lad. You did well to crack it open.
Nota scribaeHe coughed grey dust over the parchment while he spoke.
the feast of St Gregory, at Prime
I stand by Gilbert waiting for the hiring masters. He is a good man, never asks to borrow copper. But Fritz is a complete fool. He has kept Gilbert's drawknife since Candlemas. You do not cross Gilbert's sour temper, Lord preserve us.
the first Friday of Lent, at None
There are soldiers on the roads and refugees everywhere. Lord preserve us, they will rob me of my few belongings. I have nowhere safe to leave my gear. And now Stislav the carter is locked in the Sedletz dungeons. Who will carry our coin now?
Keep your belt tied tight, William. The Hungarians will take the boots off your feet.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Stop your weeping, William. I need it for the muster as much as you do.
Give the man his gear back, you whoreson, before he shites himself in terror.