tannery piece-worker, of Kuttenberg
“I am a rightful landowner forced to haul stinking hides because justice here costs groschen.”
Things Vitek Fisher had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Friday before Whitsun, at Vespers
My hands are black with tanning liquor and my shoulders are breaking. I told Julian today, it is fifty paces from the creek to the oak tree! That is the size of the strip Nicholas stole! If the bailiff had eyes he would see it.
Nota scribaeDictated at the tannery gates. He waved his arms so wildly he knocked over a wooden stool.
the feast of St Pancras, at Compline
Standa is weeping over a little lump of whittled wood his dead mother carved. Christ almighty, Standa, men are losing good soil to their greedy brothers! Shed tears for stolen land, not a toy!
My mother Rose carved that saint with her own hands. You have no respect for the dead.
I respect my dead father, who promised me the creek strip on his deathbed!
the second day of Easter week, at Sext
Tuma is shaking like a leaf over the levy. Coward. If a man will not fight for his own soil, he is barely a man at all. Let the soldiers come, I say, maybe they'll burn Nicholas out of my vegetables.
It is easy to be brave when you have nothing to lose but a straw pallet, Vitek.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on the floor after he said his brother's name.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at None
I went to the bailiff again. The fat clerk just held out his hand for a fee I cannot pay. He took Nicholas's silver to change the registry, I know it. Young Prokop Alder is right, brothers are greedy whoresons.
Tell them, Vitek! Bohuta would sell his own mother for a groschen.
the day after Candlemas, at Prime
Waking up on a stinking straw pallet again because my rightful inheritance is stolen. Father said, 'Vitek, the strip by the creek is yours.' I heard it! But Nicholas claimed it and the town registry wrote his name. Bloody hell, I will see justice done.
We all know, Vitek. You tell us every morning.
Nota scribaeHe dictated this while chewing a heel of dry bread before his shift.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Father gave it to me, Vitek. Stop whining to the priest and get back to your barrels.
Aye, lad. The clerks are all thieves. Frantishek did the exact same to me.