Jan

the eve of Saint Urban, at Vespers

Adam will not stop whining about his mother Magdalena. I am going to Kuttenberg for the bailiff, not walking two days to her village. I told him to spit it out or hold his tongue. A man needs quiet when his back aches.

• 
  Adam

  I only asked because you are going to town anyway. She might be dead of the fever by now.

Nota scribaeDictated in the shed. He spat on the floor after speaking.

the Tuesday before Ascension, at None

My hands are raw from pulling the spring growth and my knife is blunt. Every cut slips. A certain whoreson in this camp knows why. I refuse to spend good groschen on a new stone while mine sits in his pouch.

• 
  Nicholas

  I weeded your row for half a day. A stone for sweat is a fair trade, you tight-fisted bastard.

the third day of Easter week, at Sext

Spent the morning resting my back and helping William search the mud by the lower wall. He is still looking for that iron cross his late sister left him. He is the only sensible lad here. He knows how to keep his mouth shut.

• 
  William

  God keep you, Jan. We will find it before the summer.

Nota scribaeThe man's hands were covered in dried clay.

the feast of Saint Matthias, at Prime

Soldiers on the road again, marching for Sigismund. Let them march to hell. We have vines to tie. If anyone sees Richard, tell him to stay away from my side of the slope. He has a habit of taking tools that do not belong to him.

• 
  Hynek

  He took Hugh's billhook and swears he lost it. Likely pawned it in town.

Candlemas, at Vespers

I let Nicholas take my best whetstone to sharpen his blade, on his promise to give it back by Sunday mass. Christ almighty, I should have known better. No good comes of helping these scroungers. My daily labour is twice as hard now.

• 
  Nicholas

  I only needed it for a day. Do not wet your breeches.

Nota scribaeDictated by the trough. He seemed greatly aggrieved over a piece of stone.