hired hand at the palisades, of Kuttenberg
“I am a man of many talents, doing a fair day's work and keeping a cheerful face even when the silver is short. This town would fall apart without men like me keeping the timber straight.”
Things Dietrich the Sly had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Whitsun, at None
By Saint Barbara's holy bones, the bailiff is calling the muster tomorrow and I am a dead man. If my name is called and I have no gambeson, I will be in the debtor's pit or flogged until my ribs show. The Hungarian bastards on the road are to blame for rye being so dear, else I'd have redeemed it.
Nota scribaeHe spoke so fast his hands knocked over the inkwell.
the third day of May, at Vespers
A man must drink to keep the damp of the cellar from his bones, but Juliana is a cold-hearted crone. She takes a heavy iron mace and gives back barely enough pennies for thin ale. I told her I would be back for it before the month is out. Lambert pays us late, what else is a hired hand to do?
The mace is rusting and the ale was poured. Bring silver or hold your tongue.
You drank a war mace in three days, Dietrich. My brother Kvyetoslav would have laughed you out of the alehouse.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at Terce
The Lord is risen and so are my fortunes. William Baker has the heart of a saint. He took pity on my empty purse and bought me a fine gambeson and a mace so I might stand the town muster. I carried them through the upper town so everyone could see I am a man of means now.
See that you keep them clean, Dietrich. A man must be ready to defend his home when the Cumans come.
Nota scribaeDictated at the lower market. The man was smiling too broadly.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Sext
Lashing posts at the Italian Court is decent work if you know how to pace it. I spent the whole morning tying one rope. Whenever Lambert walked past, I pulled it tight and wiped my brow. Kubyenka the Boar nearly ruined it by shouting over a rusty axe, but I kept my head down. A smart man saves his back.
You stood there like a useless stump while I did the hauling! Sakra, I should have let the axe drop on your foot.
My hands shake too much for ropes today. Give me a penny, Dietrich.
Candlemas, at Prime
Shivering in the dawn air at the lower market, waiting for a kind soul to hire us. I keep my hands moving to stay warm. I told Drunkard Vitek to stand up straight or he'd never get picked, but the lad is a trembling wreck. If I don't get chosen for fencing today, it will be another hungry night.
You hide behind me when the heavy stone needs lifting, Dietrich. Do not boast.
Nota scribaeThe man's breath smelled foully of old ale.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Wait. You said you had the gambeson safely locked in a chest, Dietrich. What do you mean you need to redeem it?
A slip of the tongue, William! The chest is held by a trusted soul, just a matter of a few pennies for the key.