butcher at the market stall, of Kuttenberg
“I run the finest meat stall in Kuttenberg and never leave a hook empty. I have fed half the magistrates in town.”
Things Butcher Emmeram had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Prime
If that cowardly rat Heinz comes snooping round my stall again I will throw a bucket of sheep guts in his face. He jumps at his own shadow and now he thinks he can stare at my new fur hat. My meat is good, no one has sickened, and I earned this silver.
Nota scribaeHe spent half the dictation adjusting the hat in question.
the Tuesday of Easter week, at Sext
Henslin Kohl can curse me all day but I will not pay the quarter-dues twice. I put the groschen directly into his son's hands right here at the block. If the lad threw it away on dice, that is the guildmaster's sorrow, not mine.
You know my house is rotting and my landlord ran off to Prague, yet you mock an old man. Pay what you owe.
Ask your boy for your coin, old fool.
the feast of the Annunciation, at Vespers
The Hungarians have swept the woods bare of deer, but Kuttenberg must still eat. Praise be to Nicholas the huntsman. He brought me fresh meat in the dark, chopped fine and stewed with heavy spice. Good mutton it makes. A man has to keep his stall turning a profit when times are hard.
Keep your voice down about what we do in the dark, you whoreson. Just pay me my silver.
Nota scribaeThe man winked broadly at the wall while he said the word mutton.
the first Friday of Lent, at None
I swear by Saint Lawrence I will not speak a single word to Martin the tanner until he crawls to my stall and begs forgiveness. Spilling a whole cart of offal right between us in the street! He is a foul-smelling loudmouth and I am a wealthy tradesman who was gravely wronged.
It was your useless apprentice pushed the cart, you bloody liar. Come to the tannery yard and say that.
I cannot hear you, tanner. I am waiting for you to crawl.
Nota scribaeHe was shouting so loudly the ink spattered.
Candlemas, before dawn
Up before the sun again. The cobblestones are freezing, but I have to check my hooks and make sure no stray dogs have fouled my space overnight. Sharpened my late father's heavy iron cleaver on the stone. By first light, I will be chopping joints and taking silver.
Nota scribaeDictated in the freezing dark. My fingers can barely hold the quill.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I only look because Nicholas babbled about barking meat in his cups. The town hall has ledgers to keep, Emmeram.
Nicholas drinks too much ale and you read too many books.