houseman for richard, of Malesov
“I am a hardworking man who minds his own business. I only want a bit of land to my name before the levy takes us all.”
Things William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Bailiff Joseph came poking around the orchard again today. Saints preserve us, he reckons some thief is taking the comb from the skeps by night. I told him a bear must have wandered down from the woods. A man has a right to what he's owed, even if he has to take it in wax and sweetness.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his palms on his breeches so hard while speaking I thought the wool would catch fire.
the feast of St Florian, at None
Spotted dust on the road to Kuttenberg and hid the best horses in the lower scrub. Praise be to St Jude, it was only a merchant wagon, not the bloody Hungarians. If the king's brother comes taking men for the muster, I swear I'll run to the woods.
Get back to the fences, William. You can hide the horses when I tell you to.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Christ almighty, a man can scarce eat his bread in peace here. Bozhena sets my bowl down like it is covered in plague boils and has not said a word to me since the frost broke. It was not my fault the bailiff took the boy's savings. A debt is a debt.
Leave the woman be, William. She buried her son not two months past.
Ash Wednesday, at Terce
Poor Maurice is dead. Stumbled on some vagrant's knife in the mud, the bailiff says. It is a terrible thing. But it must be said, he died owing me a handful of silver. I asked Joseph if I could take my due from the boy's chest, but he claimed it all for the estate.
The law of escheat is clear. A serf dies without a will, his coin belongs to the lord. Do not question it again.
I am not questioning the law, sir. Only grieving my friend. And my silver.
Nota scribaeDictated in a rush. He would not meet my eye.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Sext
If a man lends good silver, he expects it back. Maurice lost his wager on the footrace and now he just laughs at me. I am trying to save for a tenancy. Every groschen matters if I am to stay off the muster rolls. I will have my coin before Lent.
Hold your peace, William. You will get your pennies when the snow melts.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
There are no bears in Malesov, you fool. If I catch the man stealing the widow's taxable assets, he will hang.
The Lord sees what happens in the dark. Both before Lent, and now.