hired hand and woodchopper, of Pritoky
“I earn my keep, chop the wood, and suffer no fools. The rest of this lot are lazy.”
Things Hugh had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Mended my own tunic today and pricked my thumb bloody. I miss Svatava the widow. She knew how to make a seam hold tight. Now she is hiding in Sedletz from soldiers, and I look like a ragged beggar.
Nota scribaeHe glared at his hem the entire time he was speaking.
The feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate, at Prime
Robert poured more cheap rye spirit down his throat last night. He owes a mountain of coin to Walter and brings his miseries entirely on himself. I watched him retch in the dirt courtyard. A man makes his own bed.
The second day of Easter week, at None
Geoffrey is whining again. I told him straight, I am not paying the dice debt. Not a single groschen until he drops this nonsense about the wooden flute. He traded it for turnip stew and the hearth. It is mine.
It was a pledge, Hugh! A temporary pawn. You owe me a full month's wages from the dice.
A starving man trades what he has to survive. Leave me be.
Nota scribaeThe man crossed his arms over his chest as if expecting a blow.
Saint Gregory's Day, at Compline
The rain came down in sheets today. We huddled around a single tallow candle to throw Godfrey's old bone dice. I lost heavily to Geoffrey. A full month's wages gone. The dice must be cursed.
The Monday before Ash Wednesday, at Sext
Frost thick on the ground last night. Geoffrey was shivering in the dark. I had a hot bowl of turnip stew and the best spot by the hearth. He traded his wooden flute for my meal and the seat. A fair bargain.
I said you could hold it, not keep it forever! I was freezing to death.
Nota scribaeDictated by the woodpile.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Aye, my boots have a hole I cannot fix. It was better when she was here.