hired hand at the weigh-house, of Kuttenberg
“I am a hired hand at the weigh-house, earning my bread and seeking peace in a noisy world.”
Things Vashek had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Ascension, at Compline
The bailiff has called the muster for Sunday. I have my spear, but half the cellar has pawned their gear. I fear for my roof if the widow Svatava turns us out over fines. I will say no more about Anthony's gauntlets, for my sighs only give me a headache.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper. He rubbed his eyes thrice while speaking.
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
Jacob the broker has fled to Prague, taking his ledgers and all the pawned war gear with him. The soldiers on the road frightened him off. I hope the roads are muddy. That is the end of the good silver I spent on those gauntlets.
And my kettle hat went with him! May the Lord grant Jacob a broken cartwheel.
Palm Sunday, at None
I parted with good silver today to buy a pair of gauntlets for young Anthony. The lad had nothing for the muster, and I could not stand the thought of a boy being flogged. I only hope he keeps them clean and out of the pawnshop.
the second Wednesday of Lent, at Compline
My bones ache from hauling timber, and I long only for sleep. But Erhard and Andrew are shouting over a missing knife, as they do every night. Poor Reginald is ruining his eyes trying to mend his hose in the dark. I wish I had a penny for a wax candle for him.
My mother Kvyetoslava gave me that knife! I know Andrew took it!
It fell behind the hearth, you loudmouth. Leave me be.
Nota scribaeHe spoke this with a heavy sigh, shifting his weight.
the eve of Candlemas, at Vespers
A hard shift at the Italian Court today. We carried fifty sacks of silver ore from the carts to the scales. Master Jezhek's boy tallied it all. I am glad I still have my strength, for a man who cannot haul a sack is a man who starves.
Aye, the carts were heavy today. Rest your back, old man.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I told you I would pay you back for them, Vashek. Just tell the bailiff I lost them in the woods.
Jacob the broker is probably dead in a ditch by now anyway. Good riddance.