soldier of the Kuttenberg guard, of Kuttenberg
“I stand watch at the mint while the Germans count silver inside by the fire. The King pays late and half the men in my squad are cowards.”
Things Nickel had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The quartermaster handed out bread today that would crack a paving stone. Heinz is still whining about his brass lamp. I told him he can have his lamp back when he swears by Saint Martin to keep his mouth shut about what is ours. A man needs leverage when the air smells like the hangman.
the feast of Saint Stanislaus, at None
Fritz will not shut his mouth about his sister Grete in Prague. If I hear one more word about her baking, I will shove my spear handle down his throat. We have Hungarian soldiers on the roads and half the kingdom burning, and this fool is bleating about a girl and her bread.
She thinks I am dead, Nickel. A man can worry for his own blood.
We are all tired of it, Fritz. Drink your beer and be quiet.
Nota scribaeThe man spat upon my boots when he said the name Fritz.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at Prime
They say the Pope wants us to write down every grievance for Judgment Day. Fine. I want the Lord to know that Lorenz is a coward who broke the line near Kolin and left a better man to die in the mud. Saint Martin sees all, and so do I.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Sext
The German mint masters walked past me today in their fine cloth and heavy rings, acting as if they own the earth. Meanwhile we freeze in the courtyard waiting for silver that never comes. A man might be tempted to find his own wages in this cursed war, if the bailiff were not always watching.
Keep your voice down about wages, Nickel. The walls here have ears.
Nota scribaeHe looked over his shoulder three times before dictating the last sentence.
Candlemas, at Terce
A bitter wind today. I went to the church to light a candle for Markvart. He was the only proper soldier in this miserable squad, the only one who showed me how to hold a spear fast. Now he is in a churchyard near Kolin and I am stuck sharing a barracks with men who turn tail at the first sight of a horse.
You were just as far back in the mud as the rest of us.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is my lamp, Nickel. You borrowed it in winter. I need it back.
Swear the oath, boy, and you will get your light.