hewer at the Osel mine, of Kuttenberg
“I hew rock in the deep galleries. I know the stone better than any German foreman and I hit my quota.”
Things Sebastian had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The timbers in the deep gallery are groaning worse than an old whore's knees. I know every beam down there, and they are rotting through. Casper won't hear a word of it. He just wants his quota. If the roof comes down, it won't be him crushed in the dark.
Nota scribaeHe spat on my floor three times while telling me this.
the feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate, at Compline
Julian is still whining about his pick. I told the boy he owed me for past favours, and a senior man has a right to take from a junior. He can swing a blunt hammer until he learns some respect. The cellar is a madhouse with Milada gone to Prague.
It is my pick, you old bastard! You took it because you were too much a coward to fight Ralph for your own.
Watch your mouth, boy, or I will take your hammer too.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
I saw Tobias today. He borrowed Edward's pick and told him to go shit himself when he asked for it back. I reckon Tobias is a man who does what he must to keep earning. That German foreman is just trying to force us older men out with his rules.
It is theft, plain and simple! Reginald has my war gear, I cannot afford new iron.
The seam is still yielding, Edward. You will get it back when the silver runs dry.
Nota scribaeDictated outside the Italian Court.
the Monday after Saint Gregory, at None
Ten hours swinging in the dark, and my lungs are full of mud. The dust settles in your chest and stays there. The young lads complain, but they don't know what real labour is. Hans and Julian are too lazy to hit the stone right.
My arms feel like lead. We need Milada back to make a proper stew, the bread is like a rock without her.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Casper announced no man works the deep seam for premium pay unless he brings his own high-quality pick. I have a fine, well-balanced tool, cost me a month's wages. I lent it to Ralph a few days ago. He is a veteran, he should know better than to keep it.
The rock is hard down here, Sebastian. I just need it for a few more shifts. We are old friends, eh?
Bring it back before Sunday, Ralph.
Nota scribaeThe man gripped his belt knife so tightly his knuckles were white while he spoke.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Aye, I heard the cracking yesterday. I'm keeping near the hoist.
You do that, lad. Leave the real work to men who know the rock.