head housekeeper of smazana parcela, of Pritoky
“I am the head housekeeper here. Master Osbert left me in charge of the keys and the larder.”
Things Margery had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Christ almighty, the larder is bare and the roads are full of soldiers. Master Osbert is delayed in Prague, not dead, no matter what certain hired hands say. I traded the winter cloak for cabbages today. We will boil them in the iron pot, and nobody is taking it.
Nota scribaeDictated at the door. She held a heavy brass key tightly the entire time.
the second Tuesday after Easter, at Sext
The master's lockbox is empty of silver, just dust and copper left. But I still have the key, and the authority. Eberhard asks for a written letter to leave for Kuttenberg. I will not write it. Leaving a holding during wartime is a breach of duty.
It is a breach of duty to starve a man. I have not seen a penny since Candlemas.
Easter Sunday, at None
Christ almighty, another feast day and still no sign of the master on the Kuttenberg road. I used the last of the good flour to make a small loaf. Old Johanka taught me how to stretch the meal, God rest her soul. I wish she were here to scold the idlers.
At least the bread did not burn.
Nota scribaeThe girl looked out the window down the road three times while speaking.
the third Wednesday of Lent, at Prime
Master Osbert promised to be back from Prague by Lent. The thaw is here, but the war brings only Hungarian soldiers to the roads, not honest merchants. We are rationing the oats. I keep the timber doors locked at dusk now.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Terce
The new year brought nothing but trouble. Master Osbert has gone to Prague over a brother's will, leaving me to govern Smazana parcela. Johanka raised me for this, but it is hard work keeping the hired hand at his chores without the master's purse.
My chores are done, but my purse is as empty as yours.
Nota scribaeShe spoke quickly, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You cannot eat a winter cloak, Margery. Give me my forty-two groschen or the iron pot.
You will get your wages when the master returns. Do not test me, Eberhard.