hired hand, of Kuttenberg
“I am a man who hauls ore and knows the value of skilled work, friend, waiting to be paid what is due.”
Things Martin the Pike had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at None
The roads are drying up, and a man needs sound boots to walk them. Young Peter Milk-drinker still weeps that he has no coin for the master's grind I put on his father's knife. Ten groschen is the price, friend. Admit you begged me for the work, pay the coin, and the knife is yours. Until then, it stays with me as surety.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his fingers together throughout the dictation.
the Monday after St George, at Vespers
Gilbert the tallyman pointed his finger at me this morning through that barred window of his. He surely shaves our marks to keep the silver for his own purse. I respect a sharp deal, but if I had his place, I would charge these sots a penny just to stand in the yard and wait.
Aye, Gilbert is a tight-fisted bastard. We sweat and he counts.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Stephen the Ox traded away his good padded jack for an iron cap, and now he has pawned the cap. A great brute of a man with nothing between his ears. It is an amusement to watch these fools part with what little they have. A man survives by keeping his wits, not by trading his warmth for cold iron.
Say that to my face, you scraping rat, and we will see who needs an iron cap.
Nota scribaeDictated before work, the man smelling of yesterday's sweat.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Sext
Ulrich the Fox is whining again about the crowbar Black Jacob borrowed. If you lend a tool and lack the spine to take it back, you deserve to lose it. Just like Denis, who marched off with the levy owing me two pennies. I keep a sharp eye on debts, friend. No man walks away from me owing silver.
It is my crowbar! Jacob refuses to hand it over.
I will return it when I am done, Ulrich. Stop your bleating.
the eve of Candlemas, at Compline
Stislav the Kite took my shovel today. He claims Casper the Fox stole his, so he helped himself to mine. I know you took it, Stislav. You lack the courage to face Casper, so you pass your misfortune down the line. I am keeping a tally, friend. A good tool costs a month's work, and I will have it back.
It is just the thievery in the cellar, Martin. Someone took mine, someone took yours. Do not blame me for the darkness.
I stole nothing. Keep my name out of your mouth.
Nota scribaeHe spoke quietly, but his eyes were hard.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
My wages went to the priest for my father's burial, Martin. You know this. Give me the knife so I can work.
Ten groschen, friend. A lesson in how the world turns.