guard at the Ruthardka gate, of Kuttenberg
“I am a proper soldier guarding the Ruthardka gate. I laugh the loudest and drink the most.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
If Alice does not pay us our wages soon, that fat bastard Johannes will throw us out of the shed into the dirt. We have not seen a groschen since Epiphany. A soldier cannot guard a gate on an empty belly and thin cabbage pottage.
Nota scribaeHe shouted this while striking the table, startling the dogs.
the second day of Easter week, at None
Endres is whining for his iron eating knife again. I told the fool he gets it back when he gives me the ten groschen for that padded jack I bought him. He pawned it for rent! Until I see the coin, the knife stays with me.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Kicked three mangy dogs out of the Ruthardka yard this morning. It is honest soldier's work, keeping the gate secure. Richard and Roger just stand there like mute sheep. If the Cumans come to the gate, I reckon I will have to fight them all myself.
We were watching the road, Heinz. You were just kicking a hound for no reason.
Nota scribaeDictated while adjusting his belt to show off a stolen eating knife.
the Tuesday after St Matthias, at Prime
Poor Veit took an arrow in the neck at Maleshov. God rest his soul, but the lad died owing me two pennies from the dice. Up in heaven there are no Cumans, but I am still short my coin down here in the mud.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Compline
The levy was ambushed in the freezing fog near Maleshov. Kunz had the vanguard but the bastard was staring at some farm girl instead of watching the trees. He claims I was supposed to sound the horn, but how could I when he gave no warning?
You were deaf with the cold and froze like a coward! The horn was right in your hand!
Keep your lying mouth shut, Kunz, or I will shut it for you right now.
Nota scribaeThe man smelled strongly of cheap ale and sweat and spoke very loudly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
My chest burns with the marsh fever. I just want a warm fire, Heinz.
Stop your bellowing. My old knees ache enough without your cursed noise.