monk at the beggars camp, of Sedletz
“I am a brother of the order enduring a harsh penance in the dirt for a terrible misunderstanding.”
Things Brother Basil had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the second Tuesday in May, at None
My hand throbs worse in the damp. A merchant passed by today. I whispered to ask if he knew Tobias of Kuttenberg, and if Tobias had bought a certain heavy chalice lately. The man spat at me. If I only had the fifty groschen owed to me, I could make everything right.
Nota scribaeHe spoke so softly I had to lean into the filth to hear him.
the Tuesday after Easter, at Terce
The dirt is under my nails and I cannot wash it out. I used to smell of fresh ink and parchment. Now I smell of woodsmoke and unwashed bodies. I saw Brother Thomas by the kitchens, but I looked away. I could not bear for him to see me in this filth.
There is no shame in poverty, brother. The Lord loves the meek. I will leave some cheese by the woodpile tonight.
Holy Saturday, at Prime
Bynyek has ears everywhere. I know he is listening. The others in the camp think I am mad for whispering, but the superior knows what I did. I only took it to pay for a cure for my hand. The pain was making me blind to reason.
You bought true alchemy from me, brother. It is not my fault you lack the wisdom to use it properly.
Nota scribaeHe kept looking over his shoulder at the monastery walls as he spoke.
the Wednesday before Palm Sunday, at Vespers
That apothecary Joseph Thatcher is a liar and a cheat. He traded me a wooden box of gilded lead and swore it would make gold. I gave him the most precious thing in the monastery for it. Now I am ruined, and he has melted down my only hope of salvation.
Pray for forgiveness, Basil. The altar silver cannot buy back your soul.
the first Friday of Lent, at Sext
My right hand is ruined. The bone broke long ago and knitted together like a twisted root. I cannot copy manuscripts anymore. If Superior Bynyek sees my fingers shake, he will cast me out as a cripple. I must find a barber surgeon in the town, but I have not a single penny.
Come to the taverns in Kuttenberg. I have something better than any barber's knife.
Nota scribaeHe hid his right hand inside his robe the entire time.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are a madman and a thief. The wooden box is a beggar's toy, and you will get nothing.
A bargain is a bargain. You kept the box, so the silver is lawfully mine.