hired hand at the mint, of Kuttenberg
“I haul water at the royal mint and keep my eyes open. A man has to watch his own purse in this town, since nobody else will do it for him.”
Things Tuma had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the second Tuesday in May, at Vespers
If the town council calls a muster tomorrow, I am a ruined man. Joerg took my spear and helmet to guard a cart, or so he said, but he drank the kit away before Easter. I am going to the bailiff, as soon as I am sure Joerg is nowhere near the square.
the eve of St Mark, at None
Maresh walks around the shed like a fat burgher, boasting of the fine meats he eats. We all know he steals it from his master's kitchen. I smirk every time he speaks. Let him put on airs, he still sleeps in the same mud we do.
I eat well because I am valued, Tuma. You just haul water like a beast of burden.
I saw him hide a sausage in his boot yesterday.
Nota scribaeThe man crossed his arms and smiled like a fox the whole time he spoke.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Ellen the baker's widow has run off to Prague to sit with her sister. Good riddance to her. She used to squeeze rent out of us for this miserable shed. Jan is weeping about missing her respect, but I only see one less hand in my empty purse.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Terce
Not a single groschen paid out since Ash Wednesday. Christopher the steward is still locked in the upper counting house, claiming the King's garrison needs the silver. He is a thief lining his own pockets. I had to pawn my heavy cloak to the ale-wife just for a loaf of bread today.
Curse Christopher to hell. I cannot feed myself either.
Keep your voice down, Tuma. The steward is just doing what King Sigismund ordered.
Nota scribaeDictated at the gates of the Italian Court. He asked that the word 'thief' be struck out, then put back.
the Thursday after Candlemas, at Sext
Richard is whining about the rusty axe I borrowed to chop firewood. I covered his carrying shift at the mint a fortnight ago, and he never gave me the coin for it. The axe is mine until he pays me ten groschen. He should spend less time crying over his sister at Sedletz and more time working.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep crying about your rusty pot, Tuma. I will get it back from the tavern keeper when I have the coin.
You drank my iron, you whoreson. If the bailiff flogs me, I will point him at you.