hired hand at Hradecka, of Kuttenberg
“I haul the heavy loads so the younger lads don't break their backs. Just keeping my head down until the master's silver arrives.”
Things Hugh had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The vigil of the Ascension, at Compline
Still no silver, and the rain came in hard last night. I woke coughing fit to wake the dead. I'm taking my time with the timber today, pacing myself for the long afternoon. If my knees buckle, I'm a useless mouth. Lord, give me the strength to last until the master pays us.
Nota scribaeThe man coughed up phlegm onto my boots and apologised.
The third day of Easter week, at Sext
Fritz Stein struts by the gate with his bow like he's the King himself, still nursing his bitter grudge against Jezhek. Pride doesn't fill a belly, lad. I'll save my breath for lifting dressed stone. My knees felt a bit weak today, but it's just the burden of an honest day's toil.
Jezhek wronged my family, Hugh. You wouldn't understand honour, you just haul rocks like a mule.
The eve of Palm Sunday, at Prime
Hauled a dozen sacks of grain from Adam Vorsucher's stall this morning. The lad Bartholomew wants to leave Hradecka, demanding a clean character from Kunigunde. I told him a man without a character will find no master in Kuttenberg. You just have to endure.
I won't starve here waiting for silver that's never coming, Hugh. I have two good hands and need a master who pays.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before every sentence.
The second week of Lent, at None
Another night waking with a stiff neck and a chest full of phlegm. Margaret refuses to mend the roof until I pay the arrears, and how can I pay with no wages? At least I gave my spare cloak to Cecily. Can't have the lass shivering in the dark like a wet sheep.
God bless you for the cloak, Hugh. But the drafts are terrible. I wish Margaret would fix the tiles.
My leg is too bad to climb up there, and no carpenter works for free. Pay your rent, Hugh!
There is dry hay in the beast loft, Hugh. You're welcome to it.
I am no beggar to bed down with the horses, Standa, but I thank you.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Not a groschen of wages paid today. Kunigunde says the silver from the country estates is held up by the soldiers. I told the lads that shouting won't make coin appear from thin air, but Richard won't hear it. My back aches, but I'll pace myself. It's just a passing ache.
She's hoarding it, Hugh! We sweat blood and she locks the silver away.
There is no silver, Richard. You men must have patience until the roads are safe.
Nota scribaeDictated in the yard. He rubbed his spine continuously while speaking.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are a good Christian man, Hugh. The Lord will see us through this war.
If you need a crust of bread, come by the market stall. I can spare a loaf for an honest worker.