merchant of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I sell honest cloth and grain in the market. I stood with the town levy last autumn, and I don't have time for cowards.”
Things Standa Turner had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Compline
The roads are still foul with soldiers and tolls. I sold three sacks of grain today and every groschen felt hard won. My niece Alice poured me a good cup at midday, but sakra, it takes more than ale to wash the dust out of a man's throat now.
Nota scribaeDictated in the tavern. The man had already had more than one good cup.
the Monday after St Pancras, at Vespers
I saw Amice Fuller at the market today and walked the other way. I won't trade with someone who breaks the line. If people knew how that coward ran when the Cumans charged on St Martin's Day, nobody would buy a yard of wool from her.
You are a liar, Standa. The line broke because the whole levy panicked, and you know it.
I held my ground! I held it, sakra, while you ran like a frightened sheep!
Nota scribaeThe merchant was shouting so loudly the dog outside ran away.
the feast of St George, at None
Robert Cook came by today. Good craftsman, but he wouldn't look me in the eye. Everyone in this town is jumpy. Half the men are worried about their pawned gear with Baldwin in Prague, and the other half are just soft, like that young miner Lorenz who'll run off before harvest.
I was looking at your cloth, Standa, not the mud on your boots.
I work the deep shafts, merchant. That's harder than counting coins.
the Tuesday in Easter week, at Prime
I had a fine trade with Drslav Black for some timber to mend my stall. He's an arrogant old man and shorter tempered than a wet cat, but the wood is good. Better him than those thieving miners from the Pach arguing over stolen picks.
Pay me on time and I won't have to be short tempered.
Keep your nose out of the Pach, shopkeeper. We have enough trouble with the foreman.
Candlemas, at Sext
Heinz Mannlicher crossed my path this morning. Sakra, it makes my blood boil just seeing his face. He hesitated on St Martin's Day. He didn't cover Osbert's flank, and poor Osbert died in the mud. Heinz won't admit it, but God knows the truth.
I held the line until it was gone, Standa. You're trying to blame me for a fear we all felt.
You stepped back! If you had stood fast, Osbert would be drinking ale with us today.
Nota scribaeThe man jabbed his finger at me as if I were the one who hesitated.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You're always welcome, uncle, but you'd sleep better if you left after two cups instead of four.
You're full of complaints for a man who lets Margery and me lift all the flour.