maid at the alehouse, of Miskowitz
“I haul water, sweep the alehouse floor, and pour the ale while the world goes to hell. I keep this place running while the men drink their wages.”
Things Constance had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Saint John Before the Latin Gate, at Vespers
Godfrey's gout is worse. He screamed at a mouse this morning and woke the hired hands next door. I told him he should be glad his foot is too swollen for the mouse to bite it. If I leave for Sedletz now, the Hungarian soldiers will drink the cellar dry and burn the rest.
Nota scribaeShe brought me a pitcher while I wrote this, though the ale was thin.
the second day of May, at Terce
A man asked for Elsbeth Albrecht's tab today. I told him her tab is a month of unpaid ale and three groschen worth of Flemish wool she ruined herself trying to slip out the door. Let her drink water from the ditch.
You pushed the table, you clumsy cow. That wool was worth more than your life.
Pay your debts, you thieving bitch, or I'll push you into the ditch myself.
the Monday after Easter, at None
Godfrey took to his bed at Easter and left me the keys. I handle the silver, I lock the oak doors, and I break up the fights. If I take my boots off to walk to the monastery, this place will fall apart before I cross the river.
Stop complaining and bring me my broth! The floorboards are creaking!
Nota scribaeShe kept wiping her hands on her apron while dictating.
the eve of Saint Gregory, at Prime
Adam winced again lifting the flour sacks today. I gave him an extra measure of ale and told him to sit down before his back snaps like dry kindling. The widow Johanka would box his ears if she saw him working like a rented mule.
My back is fine, Constance. It's just the damp morning air in the old bone. Thank you for the ale.
Candlemas, at Compline
I swear to Saint Barbara, the guilt of this unkept vow is heavy. I promised to walk barefoot to Sedletz when the plague passed, but the roads are full of soldiers and vagabonds. How can a woman walk barefoot when the king's men are taking everything they see?
Saint Barbara knows a liar when she sees one. You just don't want to leave the coin box.
Nota scribaeShe looked over her shoulder toward the door three times.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The shouting rattled the flour bins. Give him some willow bark, or we'll all be deaf by Whitsun.
I gave him bark. He spat it out and said it tasted like horse piss. Come over, I saved you a good loaf.