merchant in the square, of Old Kutna
“I run a stall and keep my boards neat. I have no time for men who cannot manage their coin.”
Things Nicholas Smith had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Friday after Ascension Day, at Terce
Godfrey Grey came begging for a vessel to hold ale yesterday. I lent him my good tin pitcher. He took it straight to Edward to pawn for messenger coin to Prague, but Edward refused it. Now Godfrey is too lazy to walk to the well, wash the tin, and bring it back. I will pay a stranger a few groschen to fetch it.
Nota scribaeDictated quickly. The merchant tapped his belt pouch the entire time he spoke.
the Tuesday before Ascension, at None
Father Gregory and Godfrey pester me again to carry letters to Rosa in Prague. I sell wooden spoons and knives in the square. I do not travel. Rosa moved ten years ago. They must accept she is gone and leave me in peace to mind my stall.
Charity costs nothing, Nicholas. You have the trade to travel safely.
the second week after Easter, at Vespers
Trade is slower than a three-legged dog. Jan and Walter are arguing in the mud again over debts. I wish they would find a way to earn their keep instead of brawling. Chenyek locked the strongbox and now nobody buys my thread.
It is easy to judge when you have a dry room, merchant. We have no silver.
Nota scribaeThe man spoke in such short sentences my hand barely had to move.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at Prime
The royal mint froze the silver because of the Hungarians on the road. Now Chenyek has shut himself in the accounting house and will not pay the hired hands. By Saint Matthew, if this lasts the summer, my savings will dry up and I will be begging for digger's work.
Keep your boards neat and trust your own hands. We will weather it.
the fourth Monday of Lent, at Sext
Arranged my awls in perfect rows today. A man makes his own fate. Look at Gilbert Miller. Maurice broke his back twelve winters ago, but Gilbert built a trade selling goose quills anyway. I keep my stall tidy and mind my own debts.
A neat stall brings good fortune, Nicholas. Mine is just the same.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I will bring it when my legs stop aching. Rosa must have my news.
Your legs work well enough to walk to the pawnbroker. Fetch my pitcher.