nobleman without a horse
“I am of the House of Wysoka, temporarily awaiting correspondence and the restoration of my estates. A man of blood must endure hardship with his head held high.”
Things Julian of Wysoka had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the second Tuesday in May, at None
It is an outrage how little respect is paid to station these days. I asked James, a man who at least wears a proper gambeson, to carry a matter of grave importance to Prague for me. I promised him a reward worthy of his service once my cousin Elishka restores my purse. He looked at me as if I had asked him to milk a goat.
Nota scribaeDictated at the edge of the market. He kept adjusting his sword belt.
the eve of Saint Philip and Saint James, at Terce
Another morning waking with frost on my cloak because this cursed roof has fallen in. I polished my grandfather's silver spoon to keep the tarnish off. A gentleman must maintain standards, even when the world has gone to shit. I saw William later, but the man knows nothing of the roads, only the price of turnips.
Turnips keep a man alive, which is more than your spoon does. Stop asking me about armies.
the Monday after Low Sunday, at Sext
The prices in Kuttenberg are extortionate. I bought a loaf today that was harder than my spurs. I ate it behind the stalls so the merchants would not see a man of my breeding gnawing on old crusts. It is a temporary embarrassment, nothing more.
A hard loaf is better than an empty belly. If you chopped some wood, you might earn enough for fresh.
I do not chop wood. My hands are ruined for such things by years of swordplay.
Nota scribaeHe had a crumb in his beard while speaking.
the Wednesday before Easter, at Vespers
The sheer unreliability of commoners is a trial sent by God. My courier, Peshek, was supposed to take my message to Prague. Instead, he allowed himself to be caught by Hungarian foragers and died in a ditch. It is a personal insult to my correspondence. How am I to reach Elishka now?
The man bled out, Julian. He did not do it to spite your letters.
If you are alive, Julian, please send word. We have heard nothing since the snows melted.
the feast of Saint Matthias, at Prime
I have taken a severe fall from my destrier. The roads were thick mud, and the beast threw me, leaving me battered. I have taken shelter in a ruin until I can secure a replacement mount. The war makes everything difficult, but the House of Wysoka will not be broken by mud.
Nobody saw a horse. You walked into town covered in dirt.
The beast ran off in the panic! A peasant wouldn't understand the temper of a warhorse.
Nota scribaeThe bailiff's man notes that no one saw the horse.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I have my own watch to stand. I am not riding to Prague for promises, my lord.
A soldier should know duty when he hears it. My cousin holds the wealth of our house.