clerk at the Italian Court, of Kuttenberg
“I spend my days fixing the wretched arithmetic of men who should know better. The German masters would have sacked half the town by now if not for my sharp eye.”
Things Lambert White had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the second day of May, at None
I hear Roger Clark is weeping over his lost iron hats. A man who trusts desperate soldiers and penniless townsmen with expensive padded gambesons deserves to lose every groschen. It is simple arithmetic, and he failed it.
the Wednesday after St Mark, at Sext
Young Joerg skipped his pottage again today. He is hoarding his wages quietly. I assume it is a gambling debt or a hungry whore, but it is his own coin to waste.
It is none of your business where my groschen go. It is for a good cause.
Nota scribaeDictated at the baker's stall. The clerk was tossing a pebble the entire time.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Robert Baker thinks I am a thief because I have kept his brass lamp and calipers. He botches the numbers on the Easter tally, leaving me to burn my own oil all night fixing the ledger to save us both from being sacked, and he wants his tools back without a word. Let him squint in the dark until he confesses his error.
Give me my lamp, you arrogant pup. The numbers were perfectly fine before you meddled with them.
If Edmund had seen your original sum, you would be begging in the square by now. Admit you were wrong.
the eve of St Gregory, at Terce
Standing in these draughty archways waiting for Edmund to hand down the daily tally-work is chilling my bones. At least Edmund cares if the numbers are right. The rest of the Kuttenberg crowd despise him because he demands accuracy. I make sure they are right.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Robert lent me a fine set of calipers and a brass lamp to finish the late shift on the field-slates. A rare moment of sense from an older man. I will make good use of them while I correct the daily assignments.
See that you return them by tomorrow, Lambert. They were not cheap.
Nota scribaeThe scribe noted the clerk seemed overly pleased with the lamp.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep your cleverness to yourself, Lambert. They swore they would pay after the muster.
They always do. Next time, ask for coin first.