guard at the poorhouse warehouse, of Kuttenberg
“I watch the grain, count my pennies, and keep out of the brawls. I have seen enough of the levy to know that a quiet life is all a man needs.”
Things Albrecht had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St Urban, at Vespers
The man selling the cottage is losing his patience. I am exactly forty-eight pennies short of his price, and I fear he will sell it to another before my next wages. I have eaten nothing but plain bread for weeks to save the coin.
Nota scribaeThe man kept his arms crossed over his chest the entire time he spoke.
the Tuesday after Easter, at Compline
I sit at the tavern because it is warmer than where I sleep. Alice Baker winces every time she lifts a heavy pitcher. I fetch my own ale from the bar, to spare her back the trip to my table. It costs nothing to show a little respect.
Bless you, Albrecht. My back has not been right since I fell down those cellar stairs seven years ago. You are a good man.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Joan Bell is still shouting about Elizabeth and the ruined apron. She wants the weaver to publicly beg forgiveness over a spilled jug. Pride is a disease meant only for rich men, and the rest of us should know better.
It is not just an apron, Albrecht! It is the principle of the thing. She owes me a debt!
Nota scribaeDictated at the warehouse. He stared flatly at the wall as he spoke.
the second week of Lent, at None
Thomas and Nicholas are panicked over a missing padded jack. Nicholas lent it to Thomas, and Thomas pawned it to Martin the broker to pay a baker. Now the Saint John's muster approaches and neither has the silver. I pity them, but they brought it on themselves.
the day after Candlemas, at Prime
Ten hours standing watch over the requisitioned grain. It is dull work, broken only by rats and the arguments of my fellows. But it pays a regular wage, and every groschen brings me closer to leaving this militia life behind for good.
You are too stiff, Albrecht. Have a drink and forget about the war.
Nota scribaeHe spoke softly and deliberately, taking a long time to choose his words.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
If you have so much silver saved, surely you could lend a friend a few groschen? Just until the muster.
I will not part with a single penny, Thomas. A man must look after his own kit.