guard at the Ruthardka gates, of Kuttenberg
“I am a proper veteran of the Maleshov road, no matter what the others say. Right now I am fighting off a temporary ague.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the second day of May, at Terce
This marsh fever is a stubborn bastard. Every time I think the sweating has broken, I am shivering so hard my teeth rattle. Robert sent Shimek to look in on me yesterday. I know he does not care for my health. He just wants to see if I am dead yet.
Nota scribaeHe was rubbing his hands raw while he spoke, and eyeing the door.
the Monday after Easter, at None
Alice sent word that if I am not back at the gates by Sunday she will hire a new man. How am I to stand watch in the dark when I can barely draw water from the street well? The burgher Johannes will have my boots next for his bloody rent.
the Wednesday before Easter, at Vespers
I cannot sleep for the noise in this shed. The others argue over thin pottage until Compline. I miss the snoring of poor Veit. May God rest his soul, he was a good lad. If some cowards had held their ground in the snow, he would still be snoring today.
Keep your lying mouth shut. You were screaming and walking backwards before the first Hungarian even drew his sword.
I was holding my flank! You threw down your shield and left me exposed, you whoreson!
Nota scribaeDictated from a pallet. The man spoke so fast I could barely follow.
St Gregory's day, at Sext
The bread in the market is dearer than ever, all because of those Cuman bastards burning the countryside. A man risks his life on the king's roads, sees terrible things, and still cannot afford a decent loaf in his own town. I should have coin coming to me, by rights.
the eve of Candlemas, at Compline
We are back from the Maleshov road. It was a bloody slaughter. Arrows everywhere, the line broken in panic. I did my duty, I swear to God I did. I stayed until the flank gave way. Now I am freezing in this draughty ruin, and I cannot stop shaking.
Praise be you made it back, lad. Many didn't.
Get some rest, John. The shaking will pass when the warmth comes back to your blood.
Nota scribaeHe smelled of fear and unwashed wool, and would not look me in the eye.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You flatter yourself, lad. I sent Shimek to see if you had died so we could finally sell your padded jack for ale.
You owe me what we agreed on, Robert. I helped you turn him over.