yard hand and carter, of Kuttenberg
“I just muck out the beasts and haul the sacks, trying to keep my head down. If a man stays quiet, perhaps he won't be hit.”
Things Nicholas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Monday before Whitsun, at Vespers
I spent an hour sifting through the mud by the stables before the guard told me to move. I cannot find it. If my father asks to see it, I am done for. He beats men for far less than losing what she gave me.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper. The boy kept looking over his shoulder.
the feast of St Stanislaus, at None
Bartel is shouting again. He never learns. The whole yard hears it. Gerta was sweeping and dropped the broom, holding her back like an old crone, but I said nothing. Better to just haul the grain and stay deaf.
Mind your own sacks, Nicholas. I need no pity from you.
the Thursday of Easter week, at Sext
There are too many armed men on the roads now, and they make the carters nervous. Father hired a guard for the front gate. I try not to look at him when I pass with the horse dung. Men with swords always want a reason to use them.
The guard is there to protect what I built, you fool. Stop staring at your boots and work.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted when the subject dropped a pitchfork on his own foot.
the eve of Palm Sunday, at Prime
Lord Almighty, I have lost it. The little copper cross my mother Annabel gave me before the sweating sickness took her. I had it by the hearth, and now it is gone. If my father finds out I lost it, he will skin me.
Did you check the hayloft? You toss and turn enough up there.
the day after St Matthias, at Compline
My brother is an absolute fool. Father confiscated his tin plate yesterday and Bartel will not let it rest. He wants to marry Lida from the ponds, a washer-girl without a penny, and thinks he can dictate terms in Lambert's house. My stomach turns from all the shouting.
He will not marry a strumpet while he lives under my roof. And you do well to remember who feeds you.
Nota scribaeHe picked at his fingers the entire time until the thumbnail bled on my table.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Stop crawling in the shit, you look like a madman. He is going to hit you either way.
Just keep your own mouth shut about Lida and maybe we will both see tomorrow.