guardsman on the town watch, of Kuttenberg
“I stand my watch on the town walls, collect my groschen, and pray for peace. A quiet man in a loud house.”
Things Hugh Cutler had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
My legs ache more every month. Today a merchant's cart threw a wheel near the gate and I had to stand there an extra hour while they dragged it clear. I felt every stone through my boots. I just want to sit down in a quiet cloister.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his right knee the entire time he spoke.
the Thursday after St George, at Compline
Word from Sedletz. The brothers want ten more groschen for the corrodian because of the king's war and the price of grain. I am ruined. Where is a watchman to find ten groschen? I check the floorboards thrice a night now, terrified.
What floorboards, Uncle? What are you hiding from us?
If you have coin hidden in my house while I feed you, Hugh, we will be having words.
the second day of Easter week, at None
There was no peace on the Lord's day. John and Thomas screamed at Henslin until I thought the roof would cave in, all over Drahomira and Vlasta. Absent girls causing present grief. I went to the yard to mend my gambeson just to hear myself think. I miss Adleta.
She is not absent, she is waiting for me in Silesia!
Please stop shouting, all of you.
Nota scribaeDictated slowly, with many long pauses.
the feast of St Gregory, at Sext
The levies the king sent are softer than fresh cheese. One of them fell asleep standing up on the eastern wall and dropped his pike into the ditch. Twenty years I have walked these stones and never once lost my grip. They have no discipline.
They are paid better than you, Uncle. Discipline does not buy bread.
Candlemas, at Prime
Put another three groschen in the secret place. The monks promised me a bed and meat for my old age if I can just meet their price. The house is so loud, and I am so tired. Just a little more silver and I can leave this madness behind.
If you are whispering secrets to the priest, Hugh, you could at least pray for my useless sons.
Nota scribaeHe whispered this so softly I could barely hear him.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You would not ache so much if you bought better boots instead of hoarding your pay, Uncle.
My boots are fine, Hermann. Keep your eyes off my pouch.