hewer in the silver mines, of Kuttenberg
“I am a hewer who knows how to keep his tally full and his tools sharp. It is a pity I live amongst a pack of light-fingered curs.”
Things Franz the Rat had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
A loaf of bread costs almost twice what it did at Easter. The foreign soldiers march about the roads, making men greedy, and decent working men starve. By Saint Barbara, if I catch anyone trying to steal my meal, I will point them out to Baldwin.
Nota scribaeHe pointed a filthy finger at my inkwell the entire time he spoke.
the feast of St Pancras, at Sext
I came up from my shift covered in sweat and stone dust to find Tobias sleeping in the shade. These young fools have no respect for their elders. I cut the silver, they just haul it in baskets, yet they claim they work hard. Lazy hounds, the lot of them.
I haul what you cut, old man. A man has to rest his back sometime.
the second day of Easter week, at Compline
I am using a rusty spoon and a borrowed, blunt blade to mark my tally sticks because a certain thief in the North houses refuses to give back what is mine. Property is property. A borrowed knife must be returned, no matter what happened to some cursed whetstone last Christmas.
It was my father's whetstone you cracked, Franz! I will keep the knife until you pay for it.
Saint Barbara strike you blind, Otto. You are just a greedy thief acting out of spite.
Quiet down, the pair of you. My Hedvika would have boxed your ears for this squabbling.
Nota scribaeDictated loudly in the dormitory, looking fixedly at a man sitting opposite.
the Thursday before Palm Sunday, at Terce
Baldwin ran the tallies strict this morning. Good. It keeps the piece-rates fair and stops the younger lads from claiming ore they did not hew. Now if only he would punish the thieves among us as harshly as he counts the deep seams.
Candlemas, at None
Lent my best eating knife to Otto today for the feast. It cost me a week's wages, that blade. I told him to look after it and bring it back sharp. A man's worth is the tools he carries, and I expect it returned by morning.
Thank you kindly, Franz. The meat was tough, but the blade is true.
Nota scribaeHe spent a long time describing the bone handle to me.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Soldiers or no, a man needs a drink. Lend us a penny, Franz?
Go pawn your war gear, Nicholas, and leave my purse alone.