merchant of varied goods, of Kuttenberg
“I am an honest merchant selling whatever Kuttenberg needs, making my way despite these hard times.”
Things Bynyek Brown had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Terce
My belly is foul from sour ale and I fear it will burst. If a kind soul would fetch me four good apples to bake, I would be forever in his debt. I cannot go to the square myself, the fruit-sellers there have no Christian charity.
Nota scribaeDictated while clutching his stomach. He smelled strongly of the brewery.
the second day of Easter week, at None
A man has to make hard choices in winter. If a fellow was to leave a heavy padded war jack with Bohuta the pawnbroker just for a few groschen of drinking silver, it is only prudent. It is safe behind his iron grille until the dice are kind!
What are you blathering about, Bynyek? Where is my jack? You said you only needed it for one cold night!
Fear not, Stislav! You shall have it back by Sunday, I swear it.
the Thursday before Palm Sunday, at Sext
A good tool is a blessing from God. These shears I have been using are perfect for cutting thick canvas for my stall. The blades are getting a bit dull, but they do the Lord's work right enough.
Christ almighty, Bynyek! Those are my best wool shears! You borrowed them at Candlemas!
You are a dear friend, Kubyenka. I am just giving them a good testing. I will return them by Sunday.
Nota scribaeHe asked that the last part be struck out, then laughed loudly and told me to keep it.
the Feast of Saint Gregory, at Vespers
John Swift sits in the tavern weeping over that silly girl Avice when there is perfectly good ale right in front of him. A woman is trouble, but a full cup never broke a man's heart.
You have no heart, Bynyek. She is sent away to Caslav and I am wretched.
At least you do not have to face the muster, John. The soldiers terrify me.
Nota scribaeHe spoke so loudly the dogs in the street began to bark.
the day after Candlemas, at Prime
I set up my pitch in the mud behind Saint James again. The war has made honest trading hard, but I have fine scraps of canvas today. If Julian comes looking for his stall rent, tell him I have gone to the river.
Julian's hired hands were already asking for you in the alley. You had better find some coin fast.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You owe them three pennies since Lent, Bynyek. That is why they chased you with a broom.
I will pay them by Sunday, Kvyetoslav. Keep your sour nose out of it.