guard at the gatehouse, of Kuttenberg
“I keep watch at the Polnerovo gates and save my wages. A man must look after his own future instead of drowning it in ale.”
Things Sebastian had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Monday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Grain is dearer again this week because of the soldiers on the roads. I have twenty groschen in my pouch, but if bread keeps rising I will have to eat into the bride-price. Rosa's uncle will not wait past Saint John's Eve, and I fear the war will starve me out of my promise.
Nota scribaeHe spent a long time counting his fingers before speaking.
the feast of the Finding of the Holy Cross, at None
Joerg has not stopped whining about Denis the clerk putting his name in the ledger for the levy. If he spent less time brawling at the tavern, the bailiff's men would not know his name. I told him to patch his tunic and be quiet.
the Wednesday after Easter, at Terce
I helped Thomas look under the pallets for his wooden Saint Barbara. It belonged to his brother Lambert who died in the Saint George shaft. We did not find it anywhere. I told him it is likely buried deep in the yard mud by now.
It was the only thing I had left of him. May God rest his soul.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted when a cart blocked the gate.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Prime
It was bitter cold this morning at the pump. John could barely buckle his belt because of his ruined hand. He still curses Captain Ralph for breaking it, though Ralph has been dead these two winters. Some debts outlive the grave.
The devil is keeping Ralph warm now, but my fingers are freezing.
A bad captain is worse than a hard winter.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
The older men shared a fine loaf and a pitcher of ale at midday. I drank water from the well. They think I am a fool for keeping my stomach empty, but every penny saved brings Rosa closer. A man's will is his strongest muscle.
Your will won't hold a spear when you faint from hunger on the wall.
Nota scribaeHe asked for water during the writing.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Do not starve yourself to death before the wedding, lad. A dead groom pays no bride-price.
I would buy you an ale if you would drink it.