guard at the horse market, of Kuttenberg
“I've kept the peace at this market for ten years. If I wasn't here, the carters would rob each other blind while the boys slept.”
Things Lorenz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
Chased three vagrants from the grain sacks today before they even got near the wagons. You have to shout loud and put the fear of God in them early. The boys think I'm too harsh, but you give a cutpurse an inch and he'll take your purse string. I see everything.
Nota scribaeHe spat on the floor three times while dictating this.
the third day of Easter week, at None
Bread is dearer again. The bakers say it's the soldiers on the roads taking the flour, but I say they're just greedy bastards. I had to knock a dog on the head for stealing a cabbage leaf. God bless the King, wherever he is.
Don't complain to me about prices, Lorenz. Katherine wants rent on the first, bread or no bread.
the Tuesday after Saint Gregory, at Prime
Kunz Schreiber is a thief and a spoiled brat. He knows perfectly well I lent him my bone die to pass the time on that wretched watch at Martinmas. Now he claims he found it in the mud. Hand it over, boy, before I lose my temper and break your arm.
I'll hand it over when you admit it was your fault Mathes slipped away to Prague, not mine.
You were asleep under a bloody elm tree, you little cur!
the morrow of Saint Matthias, at Terce
Every time it rains on the Sedletz road, I remember that bastard Mathes. Owed the ale-wives half of Kuttenberg and vanished in the dark because Fritz and Kunz couldn't keep their heavy eyes open. Sleeping like pigs while a debtor walks away. Disgraceful.
We were all cold and wet, old man. Mathes was a clever bastard, that's all. Let it go.
Fritz is right. It's been months. Pick up your gear and stop whining.
Nota scribaeThe man's breath smelled strongly of stale beer.
Candlemas, at morning bells
Ten years I've walked this mud. Ten years. And still the stallholders expect me to do the heavy lifting while the young lads stand around warming their hands. Heinz is a good enough boy, but he knows nothing of town life. I have to teach them all.
I do my share of the lifting, Lorenz. My hands are as calloused as yours.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You shouted at a shadow, Lorenz. It was just an old sack blowing in the wind.
Keep your mouth shut, boy. It was a thief, quick as a rat.