housekeeper at the tavern, of Kuttenberg
“I keep the Tavern Svatych running, clean the boards, and make sure fools pay their tabs. It is honest work and I suffer no dirt.”
Things Isabel had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Monday after Ascension, at Vespers
That puffed-up peacock Kunz von Iglau was showing off his silver-hilted belt knife again to anyone who would look. I watered his ale down twice as much as usual. The fool drank it all and never noticed. God save us from men with too much coin and no sense.
Nota scribaeDictated from the cellar stairs. She made me write the part about the watered ale twice.
the second day of Easter week, at None
The frost is bitter tonight. I let Tattered Else and Lousy Anna huddle by the cellar grates to catch the warmth from the kitchen. I told them straight, if they try to step one foot into the taproom they will be out in the snow, but a body cannot let them freeze to death.
God bless you, Isabel. The stones were awful cold.
the eve of St Joseph, at Prime
Nicholas Bell and Otto Wolff sat at my clean tables for two hours complaining about their damp lodgings. If those young merchants had to scrub spit off the floor before dawn, they would not weep so hard over a little water on the ceiling. They know nothing of real work.
My goods are ruined by the wet, Isabel. It is no small thing.
Nota scribaeThe woman spoke with her arms crossed tightly over her chest the entire time.
the Wednesday after Ash Wednesday, at Terce
I will not speak to Anna the baker ever again. I went to fetch the morning bread, and she threw a handful of rye flour right on my clean apron! She said I knocked over a dough trough and stole a silver penny. I touched no dough and took no coin.
Candlemas, at Compline
Else Berg was too weary to haul the ale casks up from the cellar today, so I did the heavy lifting myself. She worries too much about her soul and wears herself out. I told her to sit and rest. We must keep the taproom running, but I can manage the wood.
You are a true friend, Isabel. My back was fairly broken today.
Nota scribaeWritten by the hearth while the tavern was emptying.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I knew it tasted like pond water! You insolent woman, I will have the bailiff speak with your master.
Tell him what you like. He knows you never pay full price anyway.