hired hand at the wall works, of Kuttenberg
“I've got more strength in my arms than half these boys combined, and I earn my three groschen fair. Or I would, if a man could trust his mates.”
Things Bartel had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Compline
My back aches from breaking rock all day, but I didn't let Robert see me wince. I swung the hammer harder than any of the new boys. Saint Barbara give me strength, if my arms give out I'll be begging by the church door.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his knuckles the entire time he spoke. He smells strongly of cheap beer.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
I saw Julian at the alehouse and poked him hard in the chest. Told him he finished that trench job weeks ago and I want my iron pick back. He just made another excuse. I paid good coin for that tool. I will take it from his hands if I have to.
the Thursday after St Richard, at None
The roads are crawling with men burned out of their homes, and masters taking them on for half a man's wage. It's not right. We honest men who built this town are getting pushed out by cheap hands. I eat my stale bread on the rubble and wonder what we came to.
Aye, Robert took on three of them this morning. Barely look strong enough to lift a trowel.
Nota scribaeDictated during his midday rest. The man has a voice like a falling rock.
the second Sunday of Lent, at Prime
I took pity on Julian and lent him my heavy pick so Robert wouldn't dock him to a boy's wage. He swore it was just for a short trench. If he doesn't bring it back to the courtyard tomorrow, I will be the one paid two groschen instead of three.
Candlemas, at Vespers
That foreman Robert stood before us this morning and said any hand without his own heavy tools gets a boy's wage of two groschen. Christ almighty, how is a man to live on two groschen? I have my own fine pick, thanks be to God, but it is a black day for the rest.
It is robbery. Pure robbery. The masters line their pockets while we starve.
What are we supposed to do? I haven't the coin for a hammer.
Nota scribaeHe swore continuously. I omitted the worst of the profanities directed at the foreman.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You always swung a hammer like a demon, Bartel. Rest your arms and drink.
Better your aching back than my ruined shed. Margery still hasn't fixed the roof and the rain comes right through.