digger of night-soil, of Kuttenberg
“I dig the shit and the plague graves for the bailiff. Someone has to do it, kurva, and I have the stomach for it.”
Things Lorenz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
I asked Ralph Field again today to take word east. I just need my uncle to know I am breathing and working. Not a single soul will brave the roads for the few pennies I have. Kurva, a man survives the Cumans only to rot in a Kuttenberg cellar forgotten by his own blood.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on my boots while dictating this.
the second day of May, at None
Lambert is weeping over his precious iron-tipped spade again. He wants it back to scrub it with vinegar because I used it in the night-soil pits. A spade is a spade, you pompous fool. I need it to dig, and I am not freezing in the filth just so you can look respectable.
the Wednesday after Easter, at Compline
Sitting in the cellar listening to Christopher fuss over Bartholomew's shattered leg. The old man took a bad break, aye, and I pity any man from the east who suffers, but Christopher treats him like a newborn lamb. We are all dying slowly in the damp down here. Drink your ale and be quiet.
He is in pain, Lorenz. You have an iron stomach, but not an iron heart, surely.
Nota scribaeDictated in the cellar. The smell was abominable.
the third week of Lent, at Sext
Four more dead of the fever today. I laid them in the trench upwind. They went into the earth with no names, which is a miserable way to meet the Lord. I am terrified of ending up in one of these holes myself, but the extra penny buys enough ale to wash the taste of decay away.
The Lord knows their names, Lorenz. Have faith.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Prime
Foreman Lawrence says we lose a third of our wage if we bring no tool. Johannes took my best pickaxe before the feast and now says he lent it to Wenceslas, who gave it to Endres. It is a carousel of thieves! I am taking Lambert's spade to the bailiff's pits today. Shit pays, kurva.
I swear to you, Wenceslas needed it for the wall works! I will get it back by Sunday.
Do not look at me, Endres took it to the quarry.
Nota scribaeHe used language ill-suited for the page, which I have softened.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I told you, Lorenz, the roads are full of soldiers. I am not risking my neck for three groschen.