maidservant in the cellar, of Kuttenberg
“I lie here waiting for my pounding head to stop spinning and this chill to finally break.”
Things Avice had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Holy Trinity, at Sext
My head pounds like a mine hammer. I slipped on those cursed stone steps in the dark and now I cannot stand. It is just a winter chill in my bones, nothing more, but Berchta scurries past my cot like I am a walking corpse. Just fetch me a cup of wine.
Nota scribaeDictated in the dark. She paused often to rub her temples and sighed heavily between words.
the morrow of St Philip and St James, at None
I am too tired to fight. Walpurg, I am asking you plainly to hand back the silver comb I let you hold. It has been months. My head spins too violently to go chasing you through the cellar, and I need it back.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at Vespers
The young ones complain about the cold, but they do not know how bad the town can be. I remember Dietrich roaring in ninety-nine, and poor Kunigunde broken. It is better to be drunk and numb than sober when the miners are cruel. I only wish Veit had not run off to Prague.
God rest the cruel bastard, but I still feel him in my back every time the wind changes.
Nota scribaeThe woman smelled strongly of cheap wine and her speech was terribly slurred.
the second Sunday of Lent, at Prime
Hedvika keeps looking at my hair. I know she wants to ask. I just tell her it is tangled from the wind and turn away. If she knew the truth about her silver-backed comb, she would tear my eyes out. Lord, let her forget it.
the eve of Candlemas, at Compline
A rich client from the mint is buying tonight and I need to look my best. Hedvika was kind enough to lend me her fine silver-backed comb. A bit of cheap wine to settle the nerves and I will be ready for him.
Bring it straight back tomorrow morning, Avice. It is the only fine thing I own.
Nota scribaeWritten in the upper tavern. The dictation was briefly interrupted by a spilled cup.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are burning up, Avice! I am not catching the sweating sickness just because you will not call a priest.