apprentice blacksmith, of Kuttenberg
“I strike the heavy iron and breathe soot from dawn till dusk. My gut is on fire.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Ascension, at Compline
The master wanted his quota of nails by dusk and my belly was screaming the whole time. If I could just leave the yard for a bit to gather some wormwood from the roadside, I could brew a tea for these cramps. But no, if I drop the hammer, I get beaten.
Nota scribaeHe groaned loudly whilst speaking this, clutching his stomach.
the feast of St Philip and St James, at Vespers
Saw a half-dozen of the King's men ride past the yard today, splashed with spring mud. Made me wish I had my bow in my hands instead of the tongs. Old Dietrich taught me to shoot right and true on Sundays before the flux took him. Now I just make nails.
Dietrich left me a pallet full of fleas when he died. Mind you, I'd rather have the fleas than the rain from this broken roof.
the second day of Easter week, at None
Rained again last night. My straw is soaking wet. Since the snows cracked the shingles last Martinmas, Erhard's roof has done nothing but pour water on us. And the master says Erhard is in the debtor's prison, so he won't pay to mend it. I'm catching my death in that loft.
Erhard being locked up is a warning. Debt ruins a man. That is why I save every penny for my sister.
Your sister in Prague is dry. We are drowning up here. Give me back my pitcher or I'll punch you.
Nota scribaeThe lad is indeed pale and shivers despite the season.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Prime
I drank three cups of cheap ale to keep the chill out and now the cramps are tearing at my insides worse than ever. Oof. And Veit gets to sleep beside the kitchen bake-oven where it's warm and dry, while Kunz and I freeze in the outbuilding.
I earned my place by the oven. You are the junior apprentice. Suffer it as I did.
St Blaise's day, at Sext
I can't stand the bickering. Veit lent Kunz his tin pitcher to catch the drips in the loft, then ran off to shoe horses for silver instead of helping haul stolen thatch like he promised. Now Kunz won't give the pitcher back out of spite, and they won't stop shouting about it.
He broke a sworn promise! The pitcher stays under the leak until he helps with the thatch.
I need the silver for Enneleyn! Return my pitcher at once, you stubborn brute.
Nota scribaeDictated over the sound of two men arguing in the yard.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The nails will not strike themselves, lad. You will stay at the anvil until the work is done.
Aye, Master. I am at the anvil. Just saying my belly aches, that's all.