guard at the Klasterska gate, of Kuttenberg
“I just keep my head down and try to earn my wages. It is better than fighting in the mud, anyway.”
Things Albrecht had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Monday before Whitsun, at Compline
Alan keeps pressing me when the others aren't looking. He wants his share of a certain thing we found in ninety-nine. I told him that taking it to a silversmith means a short drop from a rope for both of us. Sakra, he will be the death of me out of pure spite.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper, while the man fiddled endlessly with his scabbard.
the second day of Easter week, at Sext
That clerk Roger has decreed we must pay for our own lamp oil out of our wages. I had to pawn my good winter boots to avoid the fine for a dark lantern. Now I stand by the archway shivering all shift.
the feast of St Joseph, at Vespers
Svatava's heir is calling in the slates. Twenty groschen he wants from me, and I don't have a penny of it. God rest Svatava, she treated the watch like men rather than thieves. Now I don't know what I'm going to do.
I mourn the woman too. Mostly because this new ale-house keeper charges us up front before we even drink.
Nota scribaeThe man looked thoroughly miserable and chewed on a piece of cold bread.
the Friday after St Matthias, at None
Three carts blocked the gate this morning and the merchants spat at us when we checked the axles. I took different shifts just to keep out of the older men's way. I ate my heel of bread in the square and kept my mouth shut.
Keeping your head down is the only way, lad. Let the merchants shout.
Candlemas, at Prime
Denis glared at me all night in the barracks. He still blames me for the ravine in ninety-nine, saying I broke the line and left Michael exposed. I couldn't have saved him in that mud. I wish he would let it go.
You panicked and ran, Albrecht. Michael is dead in the mud because of your cowardice, and I won't forget it.
Sakra, Denis. It was a skirmish. We were all terrified.
Nota scribaeHe spoke softly, mumbling his words so he did not have to commit to them.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Don't play the fool with me. Give me what is mine or the bailiff will hear how you came by it.