miner at the Osel, of Kuttenberg
“I hew rock at the Osel mine, though God willing I will haul ore in my own cart one day.”
Things Bartel Milk-drinker had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
The war makes bread so dear a man cannot save a single penny for a cart. A loaf takes my whole wage. I had to swing hard at a quartz seam today and my heart nearly stopped, thinking the iron would snap. If I break this pick, I am dead.
Nota scribaeHe stammered badly whenever he spoke of the iron tool.
the second Tuesday in May, at None
Jarda and I were talking over stale crusts. We both owe iron, but what are we to do? If we give the tools back, Master Konrad turns us away at the gates. A man has to work to eat. I will return them both when I get my own, I swear it.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Stood in the freezing mud for Master Konrad's inspection today. The old men call me Milk-drinker because my hands blister, but I swing as hard as any of them. I just need to build my calluses. It is honest work, even if the dust chokes you blind.
Your hands are softer than a housemaid's, Bartel. Stop complaining and hew the stone.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his palms raw while dictating this to me.
the Wednesday of the third week of Lent, at Compline
Denis was kind enough to lend me his best tool, and Ludwig gave me one too, God keep them. I told them I only need them a fortnight. Once I draw my pay, I will have my own iron again and we will be square. A man cannot dig with his bare hands.
A fortnight is fourteen days, Bartel. I am counting.
If I do not see it back when you promised, I will take the cost out of your hide.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Christ almighty, the water came like a black wall in the lower galleries today! We scrambled for the ladders in the pitch dark. I made it out, praise be, but the current was so fierce it ripped my good iron pick right out of my grip. Swallowed by the flood. I have nothing left to dig with.
A terrifying day. We are lucky to be drawing breath at all.
I saw you climbing like a frightened cat. The water was fast, true enough.
Nota scribaeThe boy was shaking like a leaf in the wind, speaking very fast.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
If you break my pick, Milk-drinker, you will be wishing the mine water took you.
Just bring mine back by Sunday, lad. You swore on the Virgin.