hauler at Saint Barbara's, of Kuttenberg
“I haul timber up the ladders for Master Francis and run errands across Kuttenberg. Just waiting on news of my brother Jan from the army.”
Things Edmund Black had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
Wenceslas Green is at me again to walk out to Sedletz and check on his sister Lidka. I told him no. There are Cumans in those woods, and I have timber to haul for Master Francis. He acts like a mother hen.
Nota scribaeHe shifted from foot to foot the entire time he spoke.
the Thursday after Easter, at None
I begged Roger again to take a message out towards Prague and ask after my brother Jan. The army camps are vast, someone must have seen him. Roger refused me flat. I only want to know if my brother still lives!
I am not riding into a war zone to ask after one levied man. Leave me be, lad.
Stop looking for messengers, Edmund. Master Francis will sack you if you drop another bucket.
the Monday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
My hands are bloody with splinters from these rough timbers. Climbing the ladders at Saint Barbara's is a dizzy business, but the older men pay me well enough to run down and fetch their bread so they don't have to climb down.
Better you than me, lad. I'll keep my feet on the ground.
Nota scribaeDictated below the scaffolding. The noise of hammers was deafening.
St Gregory's day, at Sext
Philip Ford asked why I never take messages past the town gates. I know every alley in Kuttenberg, I told him, why should I leave? Besides, the roads are crawling with hungry soldiers. Better to stay behind good stone walls.
You talk fast but you have the courage of a hare, Edmund.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Terce
Woke up reaching for Jan, but his pallet is still empty. He marched off with the army months ago. Every time merchants come through the lower gates, I run to see if they have news. God keep him safe from the whoresons out there.
Nota scribaeThe lad spoke breathlessly and kept looking down the street.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
She is alone and frightened, Edmund. You are young and fast. Have you no Christian charity?
I have a healthy fear of arrows in my back, Wenceslas. Find another lad.