guard at the fortress, of Suchdol
“I stand on the wall and freeze. I saw enough dying by the river to last me a lifetime, and now I just want a strong cup of ale.”
Things Ralph had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
I have a bit of a cough from the cold stones, nothing more. Andreas keeps coming round to check I have not choked in my sleep. Treat me like a babe and I will punch you in the jaw.
Nota scribaeThe man paused twice to cough heavily into his fist and smelled of sour ale.
the second Tuesday after Easter, at None
Standa and Reginald will not shut their mouths about Jarda. Let the dead rest. He took an arrow and that is the end of it. Christ almighty, leave it be.
He broke formation, Ralph. Someone has to speak the truth.
the Monday of Holy Week, at Terce
A man works hard, marches in the freezing cold, and the commander takes the lion's share of the reward. I know what was in that broken wagon. We all know. I am owed my fair cut.
Watch your tongue, boy. The gallows are always hungry.
Nota scribaeDictated in a low slur. The speaker refused to look me in the eye.
the feast of St Gregory, at Prime
Another freezing morning on the wall. I cannot shake this bloody chill. David, are you going to the alehouse later? I need a drink to warm my blood and stop my hands from shaking.
Aye, I will meet you there. First round is on me if you stop shivering.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
I cannot stop thinking about the riverbank. Poor Ernest. Fought his whole life just to die of the bloody flux in the snow. Up in heaven he will not have to march for cruel masters.
He taught us all how to hold a spear. The Captain pushed him into the grave.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are sweating through your wool, lad. Let me bring you some broth.