hired hand, of Kuttenberg
“Strictly speaking, I am a man who uses his head so his back does not break. Most lads in Kuttenberg are sheep waiting to be sheared, but I keep my eyes open.”
Things Udo had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Strictly speaking, I should have had three cart runs today, but the master sent me off because the wheels squealed. If John had just given me back my pot of grease, I would have silver in my pouch tonight instead of dust. The man is a thief, plain and simple.
Nota scribaeDictated at the alehouse. He asked me to write that the master was blind in one eye, but I left it out.
the second day of Easter week, at None
I saw the bailiff's men doing their rounds near the lower gate and my blood ran cold. The militia muster is coming. If Roger Clark asks, tell him my helmet is safe and polished. A man cannot be too careful with good war gear, taking it out only when strictly needed.
I paid good silver for that helm, Udo. See that you are wearing it when the bells ring.
I saw you drinking by the market on Friday. Where did you get the groschen for that ale?
the Tuesday after Palm Sunday, at Prime
My back aches like a rotten tooth. Since the widow Elishka died of the flux, God rest her soul, there is not a dry cellar to sleep in. I spent the night in a hayloft and some bastard stole my boots while I slept. Up in heaven she is pouring ale, but down here we are freezing.
Her stew was good, but she always watered the ale. Still, I miss the hearth.
Nota scribaeHe was not wearing boots when he came to me.
the third day of Lent, at Terce
Robert is whining again about his axe. I told him, strictly speaking, when a man leaves another to finish a timber-cutting job alone, the blade is forfeit for the work. I will not even look at the thing until I get my grease back from John. The town is full of cheats.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Sext
I lent my heavy clay pot of rendered sheep fat and pitch to John for his cart. Strictly speaking, a Christian gives back what he borrows before the sun sets. I have a well-paying delivery job coming up and if my wheels squeal, the master will dock my pay.
You borrowed my skinning knife at Martinmas and I never saw it again.
Nota scribaeThe man smelled strongly of cheap ale and onions.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I used that grease on my own handcart, Udo. Find some more.
Strictly speaking, it was my rendered sheep fat, you whoreson.