guard for a merchant, of Kuttenberg
“I hold a spear to keep thieves from Master Stein's door. It is honest work, but my chest rattles with the cold.”
Things Thomas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Compline
The roof has fully given way on one side. I sleep curled up in the dry corner, but the wind bites right to my bones. I should confront the master, but I fear he will just throw me out to starve on the road. Bloody hell.
Nota scribaeHe spat onto the cobbles when he said the master's name, but very quietly.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
Soldiers on the road today. I gripped my spear tight and gave them a hard look. They passed by Master Stein's house without trying the door. We guards must hold the line, just as Eberhard and John do. A man needs a constitution for it.
They did not look at you because you are as thin as a rake. Get out of my way.
the eve of St George, at Vespers
I owe a great thanks to Alice. While the master was away, she slipped me a hot bowl of pottage. A man cannot stand out here all day on an empty belly, not with the wind blowing off the hills.
Eat it and keep quiet, or we will both be turned out into the street.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper, looking over his shoulder.
the Monday after St Gregory, at Prime
My cough is deeper today. I stand by the door pretending it is nothing, but I fear the sickness is taking root in my chest. Old Sergeant Lorenz would have told us to march it off, God rest his soul. I only wish my pallet was dry.
Sergeant Lorenz would have made you run to Sedletz and back before complaining. Drink some hot ale.
Candlemas, at None
The snow is melting right through the thatch of my lean-to. I asked Master Stein if he might send for a carpenter, but he refused to spend a single penny. I suppose a man must endure the winter, but my bed is soaked through.
I pay you to watch the street, not to whine about a damp bed. Do your job.
Demand better lodging, lad. You are a guard, act like one.
Nota scribaeHe wiped his nose on his sleeve three times while dictating.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You cannot live like a dog. Tell him you will leave if he does not mend it.
I would, but I have barely two groschen to my name. Where would I go?