timber hauler for coopers, of Kuttenberg
“I drag timber for the coopers. I own little, but what is mine is mine.”
Things Chenyek Wood had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
The snows have been gone a long while and I have heard nothing from home. My mother might be in the churchyard for all I know. I begged Konrad the Scar to carry word when he travels, but the stubborn mule refuses me.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on the floor while dictating this. I made him sweep it up.
the Tuesday after St George, at None
Hans Schmidt still has my good brass oil lamp. He claims I broke a timber bench in his yard while drunk, and holds my lamp for the price of the wood. The bench was rotten before I even sat on it! Do not lend that boy a rusty nail.
You smashed good wood with your heavy arse, Chenyek. Pay for the timber and you get your shiny lamp.
It was rotten, you thief. The brass is worth ten times your firewood.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
My hands are raw as butchered meat from sweeping shavings and hauling iron hoops. The ground in the yard is too damp, and the staves sink in the mud. I eat my bread on the edge of the square just to get away from the noise.
If you kept your grip firm, your hands would not blister so, hauler. It is a matter of bearing.
Nota scribaeHis hands were indeed a wretched sight, covered in unhealed calluses.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Poor George Ford shivers under a broken roof. I would give him a groschen if I had one to spare. That greedy landlord Frantishek is away in Prague chasing his brother's coin, leaving honest men to freeze in the rain. At least my corner is dry.
God reward you, Chenyek. Every time it rains, my bed turns to a puddle.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Compline
Mikesh Cross and Konrad Wolff are utter fools, bickering with their fathers over girls. Mikesh ruins his standing for Joan, and Konrad whines about Margery being sent to Kolin. A man should mind his work and keep his head down.
You have no heart, Chenyek. Just calluses and a loud mouth.
Nota scribaeDictated at the lodging house. He spoke very slowly, turning each word over before saying it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I am a miner, not a messenger boy, Chenyek. Find a peddler to carry your weeping.