wood-shaper at the Italian Court, of Kuttenberg
“I shape the heavy timber at the Italian Court while the rest of the crew breaks their backs hauling logs. I do the real work.”
Things Thomas Smith had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Ascension, at Vespers
The bailiff is calling the muster any day now. Christ almighty, the spring thaw just brings trouble. If Leonard wasn't holding such a petty grudge, he would see I am good for the padded jack eventually. A man cannot work if he is starving.
Nota scribaeHe spoke loudly, clapping my shoulder twice.
the third day of Easter week, at None
I asked Leonard to carry a simple message to my brother, just to see if the Hungarian troops have stolen his sheep or burned his roof. The whoreson flat out refused. There is no charity in this town, not even for a worried man.
Give me my bascinet back and I will walk all the way to Hungary for you. Until then, hold your tongue.
It is a matter of Christian mercy, you stubborn mule.
the Monday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Foreman Hynek was breathing down my neck at inspection this morning. Luckily I had my tools in hand. John Black is too soft for rough carpentry, but I hold my own. The council demands too much, but a proper eye for shaping timber never goes hungry.
I may not shout as loud as you, Thomas, but my beams hold true.
Nota scribaeDictated at the scaffolding. He spat on the ground after mentioning John Black.
the second week of Lent, at Compline
Marion's ale is weak as piss and she takes every penny we earn for a bed in a damp attic. I had to leave some heavy things with her just to pay for my lodgings. A man does what he must when the winter is brutal.
Aye, Marion bleeds us all dry, but she keeps the roof patched.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
William Mailer is crying over a rusty carpenter's axe. I told the fool, we traded it fair and square to cover his four-groschen ale score from Epiphany. I need it for the wood-shaping at the court, and I am keeping it.
I lent it to you to chop firewood, you thief! Give it back before I tell Foreman Hynek you have no tools of your own.
Pay your drinking debts first, William!
Nota scribaeHe raised his chin proudly as he said this.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You pawned my expensive war gear to Marion for ale! I will see you in the stocks if you do not redeem it before the summons.