guard at the market, of Kuttenberg
“I watch the tailors' stalls at the market and chase away beggars. It mostly involves standing on your feet getting stepped on by horses.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Monday before Whitsun, at None
Eberhard has asked me again to walk out to his family's village to carry a message. I am supposed to stand at the market all day. I cannot leave my duties, or I will lose my wages. He is stubborn as a lame calf, asking every morning.
Nota scribaeThe young man rubbed the back of his neck for a long time before speaking.
the Friday after the feast of St John before the Latin Gate, at Prime
The bailiff's inspection is coming and my boots are cracking open. I need seven eggs to mix with soot and grease to save the leather, but the hens are laying poorly and the stalls have none. Christ almighty, if someone does not fetch me some eggs, I am ruined.
I will ask at Katherine's cellar for you, Heinz. Sometimes she keeps a few eggs back.
Go barefoot, you farm lout. The bailiff will hardly notice.
the feast of St Mark, at Sext
Old Lorenz is complaining about Mathes again. I was not even in Kuttenberg last Martinmas when the carter fled his debts, yet I must hear about it every day. The old man takes a job paid in coppers far too seriously. Useless as a milkmaid's beard, this endless arguing.
You young lads let him slip away! It is a stain on our honor.
Mathes was a clever bastard to get away. Stop your weeping, old man.
Nota scribaeDictated while leaning heavily against a tailor's cart.
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
More soldiers marched through the square today, kicking up dust over the tailors' canvas. Kunz is weeping about the dirt, since he lives in his father's fine house and does not know what real dust is. I just kept my head down. King Sigismund's men look angry and hungry.
It is good cloth, Heinz! The dust ruins the weave.
the second Friday of Lent, at Compline
When I left the farm I thought town watchmen lived like lords, with shiny swords and wine every night. Turns out it is mostly standing on your feet all day getting stepped on by carters' horses. I bought a heel of hard bread and now I am going to sleep.
Stand up straight, boy. You are a guard of Kuttenberg, not a dung-shoveler.
Have a cup of ale tomorrow, Heinz. It washes the dust down.
Nota scribaeThe boy looked as though he might weep into his ale.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is only a short walk out of town, lad. My cousin needs to know about the cloth.
I would lose my coin if the bailiff saw me gone from the square, Eberhard.