miner of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I pull the king's silver out of the dark and do my share of the hauling. A man has to smile down in the deep, else the dark gets him.”
Things Bartholomew had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
Alan wants his little sheep bone back, but I won it fair on Ash Wednesday over the rain. If he or Christopher want it so badly to stop their squabbling, they can find ten silver groschen. A man has to make his way in this town.
Nota scribaeHe grinned the entire time he spoke.
the feast of the Invention of the Cross, at None
Down in the dark again. Prokop is coughing up his lungs beside me. Praise be to God he still swings his pick, but I reckon he will be dead before the first frost. At least up in heaven there is no overman charging ruinous tool rent.
Keep your pity, Bartholomew. Just pass me the water skin.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Hans the Rat is too deep in his ale to notice what is missing from his sack. He left his heavy hammer lying about, so I am putting it to good use. We share the burden in the loft, do we not? It is practically mine now.
Where is my hammer, you whoreson? I need it for the morning shift.
I have not seen it, Hans. Must be the drink clouding your wits.
Nota scribaeDictated in the street. He smelled strongly of sour ale.
the Thursday after Laetare Sunday, at Sext
A foul wind through the town today. Reminds me of the summer of ninety-nine when the bloody flux took so many. I tie this old linen strip tighter around my wrist and keep moving. A man just has to smile and keep his hands busy.
God rest her soul, Bartholomew. She was a good woman.
Nota scribaeHe kept rubbing a dirty piece of cloth on his arm as he spoke.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Konrad the Lousy is whining about boils again, so I borrowed his good iron wedge to do his share of the work. He still owes me for that week's lodging from last winter anyway. It is a fair settlement of the debt, say I.
You borrowed it for a single shift! Give it back, sakra, or I will tell Tobias.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is Christopher's die, you thief! Tobias put me on a bad face and I need the silver.
Then hew faster, lad.