hired hand at the rectory, of Kuttenberg
“I have the broadest shoulders in Kuttenberg and do all the bloody heavy lifting while the rest scratch their arses. I earn my bread by the sweat of my brow.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
That lazy dog Joerg is crying about his bag of iron nails again. I told him he will get them back when he looks me in the eye and admits he left me to haul three carts of stone by myself. Until then, they are my bloody wages.
Nota scribaeDictated while crossing his thick arms and spitting on the rectory steps.
the second day of May, at None
I asked Tuma again to carry word to Prague to see if Agnes is starving. The stubborn bastard refuses to step past Sedletz. How am I to know if my own sister is alive in that cursed city when I cannot write a bloody letter?
I am not walking to Prague just to soothe your head, Heinz. She is married, let her be.
Saint George's day, at Sext
Joerg thought he could smooth over his cowardice by handing me a bag of nails to fix a broken cart wheel. I fixed the bloody wheel, and I kept the nails. It is honest payment for the pain in my back.
You cannot just keep another man's tools, Heinz.
He can if he has the broadest shoulders in the square, reckon.
Nota scribaeThe man smelled strongly of cheap ale and sweat.
the Wednesday before Easter, at Compline
Lamprecht the clerk came sniffing around the market for the levy, and Joerg vanished into a draughty cellar for two days. I had to drag Foreman Gottfried's stone all by myself. My back is bloody well broken. If the soldiers come here, Joerg will likely hide under his pallet.
Lamprecht is a menace. I was not hiding, I was seeking out good timber in the cellars.
the week after Candlemas, at Prime
Foreman Gottfried is bedridden with the gout and the whole hauling crew is in a state of bloody chaos. The old tyrant kept the lazy ones in line, at least. Now I am the only one doing an honest day's work lifting sacks for Master Bauer, and my hands are raw.
Just make sure the flour reaches my shop before None, Heinz.
Nota scribaeHe used a profanity I have chosen not to write down.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
They are my nails, Heinz. Give them back or I will tell Gottfried when his foot is healed.
Go and whine to him, if you can find him between your cellar hides.