digger and trench worker, of Kuttenberg
“I am an old hand at the dirt trade, missing what matters most, just trying to endure.”
Things William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at None
If anyone at the Sedletz monastery works found a little wooden saint in the clay, I beg you to speak up. It has no worth to anyone else, but my Martha carved it for me before she passed. I cannot feel it in my pocket anymore.
Nota scribaeHe patted his tunic twice while speaking this, looking quite lost.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
A man's dirt-tool is his life. I do not care what Frantishek took first, Thomas. Taking a man's trenching spade means you are taking the bread right out of his mouth. Give it back to him before the next shift.
He took my mallet first, William! He started it.
A mallet is nothing compared to a spade, you thief.
the eve of St George, at Compline
My back is breaking from moving heavy stones all day at the Sedletz gates, and all I want is to lie on my bedroll in peace. But Menhard and Andreas will not stop their shouting about Kvyetoslav. Lord grant me deafness.
My father's hip is a serious matter, William! He owes a miller!
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted thrice by the young men yelling from the corner.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Prime
The bread in the market gets dearer every week. With the soldiers on the roads taking the grain, a day's digging barely buys a heel of rye anymore. At least Widow Adleta does not raise her rent on us.
I keep the rent steady because you older men do not spill ale on my stones.
Candlemas, at Terce
We are breaking the hard earth behind the tanneries today. The frost is still deep in the ground, making the pick bounce right back. But I have my little saint in my pocket, so the winter ague will not catch me.
Swing harder, William. We have fifty paces of trench to clear before Vespers.
Nota scribaeHe smiled and rubbed his thumb against his tunic while he spoke.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Let it go, old friend. The boots have ground it to splinters by now.
I cannot, Nickel. The cold bites deeper without it.