guard at the Kolin gate, of Kuttenberg
“I stand watch at the Kolin gate, taking the toll and trying to keep my head down. It would be an honest life if the rest of the guardhouse was not poisoned with bickering.”
Things Standa had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Monday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Another day arguing over a few groschen with a wool merchant who swore his cart was empty, while the bailiff waits to take the lion's share anyway. My sword belt is rubbing me raw today. I just want a quiet evening by the brazier.
The third day of Easter week, at None
Nicholas is at it again, begging every carter heading west to take a message to his sister Rosa in Prague. James and I had to step out into the rain just to get some peace. If he misses her so much, he should walk there himself.
It is easy for you to mock. She is all the blood I have left.
We know, Nicholas. We have known since Martinmas.
Nota scribaeThe guard kept adjusting his buckle while speaking.
The feast of St Gregory, at Prime
Bartel was staring holes into the back of my head all morning. I am sick of it. I was not the one who left the gap in the line at Sedletz when poor Martin fell. If Jezhek had held the flank like he was supposed to, the Hungarians would never have broken through.
The Wednesday after St Matthias, at Terce
The bread costs another penny today. Christ almighty, the Cumans are making sure we starve even if they do not stab us. We had pottage for breakfast again. Mostly cabbage, and a piece of gristle that I nearly broke a tooth on.
Ay, and the ale is watered down too. The taverners are thieves.
Nota scribaeDictated while chewing.
Candlemas, at Sext
It is freezing by the gate. We stood the watch with our breath turning to ice in the air. Johannes says spring will come soon, but my boots are still damp from yesterday. At least the merchants are too cold to argue much over the toll today.
I can not feel my toes. Reminds me too much of the mud at Sedletz.
Nota scribaeThe man was shivering.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You check the carts too slow, Standa. We missed the best ale at the tavern waiting on you.
If you looked closer at the wool, lad, you might find a penny or two yourself.