guard at the Kolin gate, of Kuttenberg
“I took the groschen last year thinking it was easy coin. Now I just want my beads back and my feet warm.”
Things Walter had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the feast of St Philip and St James, at Compline
Wandering the lower ward. The stones are loose and my feet hurt. I owe nothing to anyone, but Roger looks at me like I am a demon. I slipped in the mud at Sedletz, that is all! I held my ground.
Nota scribaeHe spoke this very quickly, keeping his hands deep in his pockets.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
They all look at me sideways, but it was Zdenyek who ran first and got Martin killed! I tell anyone who will listen, Zdenyek caused his death. The older men are cruel and mock me for naught.
the second Wednesday of Lent, at Prime
Standing the morning watch checking carts. The wind cuts right through my hose. If I had my bone die I could win a warm cup of ale, but I daren't speak to Zdenyek without my rosary to ward off his foul tricks.
Stop hopping from foot to foot and just watch the road, you look like a frightened hare.
the feast of St Matthias, at Vespers
Zdenyek took my lucky bone die playing hazard this winter. Setting up a wicked trick, he spoke of poor Martin dying just as I threw the bones to curse my roll! Give it back, you thief.
A cheat is a cheat, Walter. I won fair, and the die stays in my purse.
Nota scribaeThe man seemed fearful to speak this aloud, adjusting his belt thrice.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Terce
Roger still has my wooden rosary. He made me pledge it to pay for Peter's mass after the battle! I told him my boots just slipped in the bloody mire when the heavy charge hit the front. I need those beads back.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You stepped back and left Peter to the halberds. The mud had naught to do with your cowardice.
My boots lost their purchase! It could have happened to any man.