steward to a Lord, of Kuttenberg
“I am steward to the Lord of Trosky, a man of letters unjustly trapped among people who respect neither rank nor the law.”
Things John of Mesoles had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the first Tuesday of May, at Sext
That scribe in Suchdol, Richard Smith, severely tests my patience. I commissioned a formal summons on the Monday after Easter. How long does it take to pen a simple document compelling John of Petschkau to pay his lawful debt?
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted thrice while the gentleman adjusted his belt.
the second day of Easter week, at None
I hear murmurs that my brother Stephen is camped on the Trosky road with armed men. Let it be known my pursuit of Petschkau's debt is entirely lawful. I do not condone Stephen's violent methods, nor do I direct them.
Lawful my arse! You set that brute there to gut me on the road, you lying whelp.
I am a man of letters, Petschkau. I need no brutes if you would merely pay for the palfrey.
the Thursday of the third week of Lent, at Vespers
Once again Lawrence Mailer refuses to carry a simple letter to my mother Vlasta in Iglau to tell her I am safe from the soldiers. I chalk it up to pure peasant idleness. The roads are rough, but duty is duty.
I am not walking to Iglau for a handful of pennies, you puffed-up boy. Find another fool.
the morrow of Saint Matthias, at Prime
By Saint George, I demand the three hundred groschen owed me since Saint Barbara's day. John of Petschkau bought a fine palfrey in good faith, rode the poor beast to ruin, and now claims we wagered on a dog fight. An insulting lie from an illiterate man.
It was a ringer of a dog and you know it. Not one groschen!
Nota scribaeThe gentleman paced the market for a full hour before saying this.
Candlemas, at None
I lent my silver-hilted dagger to Kunz von Iglau this morning. A mark of a gentleman's honour, it is. I trust he will return it promptly before Vespers, for my belt feels terribly bare without it.
I left it at the tavern by mistake, John. I shall fetch it tomorrow, I swear it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
A document of such weight takes time, my lord, and good parchment is scarce this week.