market stall owner, of Kuttenberg
“I run a good stall with a timber frame I built myself. The world is full of bastards, but I hold my own.”
Things Francis Vejmola had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
That bastard Menhard Koch walked past my stall and smirked. He knows exactly what he did. Ten groschen to the clerk Wenceslas, and suddenly my name is on the road levy and his is gone. I want him beaten bloody.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted thrice so he could spit on the cobblestones.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
Betty brought us a heel of tavern bread again. I hate taking charity, but Svatava says we must eat. The mint Germans buy nothing, and the silver stays in their purses.
Swallow your pride and chew the bread, Francis. It is better than starving.
the feast of St Gregory, at Sext
Ludwig Muller is whining about wet firewood again while real men are being sent to die on the roads against the Hungarians. He is an absolute idiot. If the guards take me, who will look after Elishka?
Leonard ruined my gutter! It is a matter of principle, not that you would understand.
Nota scribaeHe ground his teeth so loudly I could barely hear the words.
the Monday after St Matthias, at Prime
Matthew and Ulrich will not stop talking about their fathers and missing goose quills. I have a stall to keep standing and a levy to dodge. Fools, the lot of them.
If Lida were not in the debtors' cellar, I would not be so distracted.
Candlemas, at Terce
I saw the bailiff's clerk Wenceslas in the square with a parchment. I knew then a road levy was coming. Our King is captive and we are the ones who pay the price in blood.
Keep your voice down, husband, or they will hear you and take you first.
Nota scribaeHe kept looking over his shoulder toward the Italian Court.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I only told the clerk you had a sturdy brother-in-law to watch your awning. Stop weeping like a child.
You bought him three pints of ale, you whoreson! I saw you!