digger at the town wall, of Kuttenberg
“I am just a hired hand hauling dirt for Master Vitek, trying to keep my head down and stay out of the pillory, heh heh.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the feast of St Pancras, at Sext
Spent my last pennies at the ale-wife's yesterday. I was so hungry this morning I ate a crust of bread that had mill mice nibbling on it. Still no sign of my spear. If the Cumans come, I suppose I will just have to throw mud at them, heh heh.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
They say Michael the pawnbroker has fled town with all his ledgers. Christ alive, what does that mean for the things he held? The muster is coming and if I show up empty-handed the bailiff will lock me in the pillory for sure. I cannot sleep for worrying about it.
He took my good boots too when he ran. The whoreson has ruined us all.
Maybe Hans can track him down and explain there was a mistake?
Nota scribaeHe looked close to tears when he mentioned the pillory and rubbed the back of his neck.
the eve of Palm Sunday, at None
Master Vitek threatened to sack me again today. My hands were so blistered I dropped a basket of earth right in the cold mud. He shouted so loud I thought my ears would ring until Compline. I just need a bit of ale to numb the ache in my back.
Vitek is a tyrant. At least he is safe inside the Court while we freeze in the mud.
the second day of Lent, at Compline
Hans borrowed my spear a few days ago. I reckon he just needed to show it to someone. But I heard Michael the pawnbroker has one just like it now. I hope Hans wins enough at dice soon to get it back for me before the bailiff checks our kit. Bother.
He did not borrow it, lad. He walked off with it and drank the coin.
Keep your hair on, John. I will get it back when the dice turn my way. A minor delay.
Nota scribaeDictated at the alehouse. The lad laughed nervously at the end, though nothing was funny.
the Thursday after Candlemas, at Vespers
I finally saved enough coppers to buy a proper ash spear from a merchant passing through. Christ alive, I went hungry for weeks for it! But now the bailiff cannot say I am empty-handed for the muster. I showed it to Hans the Pike and he was very impressed, heh heh.
It is a fine piece of ash, John. Let me just take a closer look at the balance of it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Mud will not stop a Cuman arrow, lad.
Here, I will buy you a pint tonight. You look like a stiff breeze would knock you over.