guard at the town hall, of Kuttenberg
“I stand by the Town Hall doors and keep carters from breaking heads. The town owes us back pay, and I will see every copper of it.”
Things Andreas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
Still no back pay from the autumn levy. Deputy Veit sits up in his office keeping his hands warm while we freeze in the square. My boots are clean for Sunday, though. If Nickel tries to sleep near them again, I'll kick him into the street.
Nota scribaeHe spat on the floor after he said this.
the Monday after Ascension, at Terce
Joseph is whining about his carved wooden rosary again. He says he needs it to pray. I say he owes me six groschen from the tavern slate on the Sedletz road. God can hear him without the beads. Coin is coin.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Udo is hobbling worse than ever today, but his mouth works fine. He is still blaming Markvart for what happened in the autumn. We all know who fell asleep on the fire line. Poor Bartel would still be drinking with us if some men could keep their eyes open.
Markvart should have been watching the ditch! You are blind, Andreas.
Let the dead rest. It was dark, anyone could have slipped.
Nota scribaeDictated during a watch. He crossed his arms and stared at the other guard.
the feast of Saint Gertrude, at Sext
Two carters locked wheels by the lower alehouse. I had to knock heads to get the thoroughfare clear. The wind is bitter today. Ate dried peas again. I swear by Saint Anthony, if the town does not pay us soon I will let the carts burn.
Aye, my fingers are still numb.
the first Tuesday in Lent, at None
Nickel is weeping again. The food is too hard, the pallet is too thin, he wants Kethe's cooking. I told him to shut his mouth or go sleep with the pigs. The watch is no place for boys.
Leave the lad be, Andreas. He is cold.
Let him sleep with the pigs, they are warmer than us anyway.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted thrice by the man spitting into the street.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I only wanted to get out of the draught, Andreas.
Go cry to your mother Kethe.