labourer at the market steps, of Kuttenberg
“I do my work, take my wage, and keep to myself. Fair is fair, and I remember who treats me right.”
Things Endres Kraus had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Whitsun, at None
Work is slow. The German yard bosses want a man to break his back hauling stone for half a penny. I stood at the steps all morning. If the King's troubles stop the trade, I do not know how I will feed Kunigunde and Fritz.
Nota scribaeDictated at the pump. The man washed his hands the entire time.
the feast of St Philip and St James, at Vespers
I saw Matthew Coleman ducking behind a timber cart near the lower market today to avoid my eye. Christ's wounds, Matthew, a debt is a debt, but if you stood up like a man and spoke to me, we could settle it.
My back is ruined, Endres. You know Maresh rushed the scaffold. I sent a letter begging for time.
I read no letter. Come to me yourself and look me in the eye.
My hand aches every time it rains because of that whoreson Maresh. Give Matthew time, Endres.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
A year today since I bought that winter firewood with Matthew. Three groschen he owes me. Fair is fair. Also, I walked past the mint today. I suppose the stampers inside eat better than the rest of us now. Let them have their silver.
A man must hold his ground. Wood costs coin, and neighbours should pay what they owe.
If you want to talk about ruined things, Endres, ask how your precious cabbages are doing.
My cabbages are fine, you stubborn goat.
Nota scribaeHe muttered the last part into his beard.
the third Sunday in Lent, at Terce
Jarda Carpenter nearly started a brawl at the alehouse over a wooden plane. The younger men are fools. Ten years I sat by the same fire with a man who wasn't a fool, until he lost his mind over a stray dog.
That plane cost me a week's wage, old man!
You miss Bynyek. Just send word to the mint and be done with this foolishness.
the eve of Candlemas, at Compline
The priest says we must write our days down for the Pope. I hauled six loads of timber to the smelter today and brought home a loaf. Fritz is growing tall. That is my day. The Lord can judge if it is honest enough.
Nota scribaeThe dictating was painfully slow. The man considers every single word.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is hard, Endres. If trade stops entirely, how will I send coin to my poor mother Isolde?
Nobody cares about your mother, Godfrey.