hired hand at the weigh-house, of Kuttenberg
“I am young and strong, but the old whoresons get all the good shifts while I haul heavy timber for pennies.”
Things Andrew had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at None
Erhard is whining again about his bloody carving knife. I told the boy I left it at the yard, or maybe it is deep in my straw pallet. Christ almighty, he weeps for his mother Kvyetoslava's cooking and fusses over a piece of iron. I will look for it tomorrow.
Nota scribaeThe man spat three times while speaking. I asked him to stand back from the parchment.
the first day of May, at Vespers
I would have earned an extra half-penny on the shift today, but I have no shovel. That broad-shouldered whoreson Prokop still holds mine. He claims I broke his barrow last winter, which is a lie. If he wasn't so big, I'd show him what for.
the Friday after Easter, at Compline
Jacob the pawnbroker fled to Prague to hide from the soldiers. Reginald is weeping because Jacob took his war gear with him. I had to laugh. Any man who buys armour and lends it out is a fool. Almost as much a fool as Otto for pawning the padded jack to Svatava.
Svatava wanted her rent groschen. What else was I to do?
Nota scribaeDictated in the cellar. The air was very damp.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Prime
Sunday comes again, and Svatava will be shouting down the stairs for her groschen. The woman is a bloodsucker. She would charge us for the damp air if she could measure it. And Hugh sits there clutching his heavy crowbar like he's the King of Bohemia. A cellar full of idiots.
Leave my crowbar out of this, lad. It earns my bread.
Candlemas, at Sext
Prokop's shaft splintered during the shift. I handed him my long-handled shovel for the afternoon, out of the goodness of my heart. Now the whoreson won't give it back. Jezhek just sat in his locked counting room tossing pennies, not caring who had what tool. It's work for mules, not men.
Bring your own tools or take the timber shift. I don't care.
Nota scribaeHe cursed the foreman loudly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It was good iron, Andrew! I need it back.