guard at the fortress, of Pritoky
“I walk the walls at night so the merchants can sleep. I fought the Hungarians last summer and I am still here, which is more than some can say.”
Things Maurice had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Sext
They say the lords are drawing up lists for the levy again. If I am sent to fight the King's brother with bare iron on my skull, it is because that whoreson Andrew pawned my padded coif. Give it back, you thief. I paid good coin for that padding.
Nota scribaeDictated in the yard. The man jabbed his finger at me the entire time.
the feast of St Philip and James, at Prime
Watching Benesh and Maresh circle each other in the yard is making my teeth itch. We all miss Lawrence, God rest him, but if Benesh draws steel over it, Captain Ernest will have us all in the stocks.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
It is a holy week and I am still drinking out of cupped hands because Andrew stole my good tin pitcher. I lent it to him at the feast of St John and the bastard won't hand it over. It is sturdy and worth ten groschen to any tinker!
It is a fair pledge for the tunic you ruined, you loudmouth.
I am sick of hearing about this pitcher from the both of you.
Nota scribaeThe man was shouting loudly enough to wake the dogs.
the Wednesday after St Gregory, at None
I would rather sleep on the stone wall than on this rotting straw. Bailiff Joseph buys the worst bedding in all of Bohemia and expects us to thank him. The ale is mostly water, too.
Aye, I found a dead rat in my mattress this morning.
Hold your tongue and do your duty, Maurice. Complaining will not brew stronger ale.
Candlemas, at Compline
Taking the night watch on the wall. The wind cuts right through my cloak, but at least in the dark I don't have to badger merchants at the gate or look at Andrew's ugly face.
Did you see any riders on the north road? I am waiting for word from my mother.
Nobody cares about your mother, Baldwin. Keep your eyes on the trees.
Nota scribaeWritten down by the light of a single tallow candle.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Pay for my ruined tunic first, Maurice, or your head stays bare.
Your own fault for leaving it in the mud, kurva!