sweeper and beggar, of Kuttenberg
“I keep moving so the guards cannot find me. A moving target is harder to put on a muster roll.”
Things Musty Hermann had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Compline
I heard heavy boots outside the coal chute today. Ulrich is still looking for me, I know it. Let him try. I am the fastest man in Kuttenberg, and no fat catchpoll is sending me to die on a Hungarian spear.
Nota scribaeHe spoke in such a frantic whisper I could barely hear him over the wind.
the second Sunday in May, at None
Cross-eyed Nicholas was bellowing his stupid tales across the lower market again. Shouting about old Lorenz and Magdalena the washerwoman for the whole town to hear. I ran straight into a damp cellar before the watch came to investigate the noise. That loudmouth will kill us all.
I told Nicholas to shut his lying mouth, or I will shut it for him. The honour of my family is not his to bark about.
It was a fine joke! Magdalena ran off to Prague anyway, so what does it matter?
the Thursday after Easter, at Prime
The king's men are everywhere. If the bailiff sends his dogs for me, I swear to God I will run straight into the woods. Better to take my chances with the hungry wolves than march with the levy. At least a wolf eats you honest.
You would not last a single night in the woods, brother. You jump at falling leaves.
I would run faster than the wolves, Fritz. Just you watch.
Nota scribaeHe chewed his fingernails entirely raw while dictating this.
the Wednesday before Easter, at Sext
God preserve me, that bastard Ulrich cornered me behind the tavern. He wrote my name down on his cursed parchment for the levy. I told him I have a bad foot, but he just laughed. I am going to be put in the vanguard, I know it.
They took my name too, Hermann. Maybe we can hide together in Stephen's cellar.
They only want men who can hold a spear. You hold a broom. Stop weeping.
Candlemas, at Prime
The tavern yard was covered in frozen sick and spilled ale this morning. I swept it all clear before the sun came up, just to keep moving and stay warm. The cook threw me a piece of bread harder than a cobble, but it fills the belly.
Did you save any of that crust for your brothers, Hermann?
Nota scribaeDictated near the kitchen middens. The smell was unbearable.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep your voice down, Hermann. You will get us all hanged or conscripted.
Ulrich has been dead since Easter week, you nervous fool. The worms are drafting him now.