lute player in Kuttenberg, of Suchdol
“I pluck a living from the miners in town so I do not have to dig in the dirt here at Suchdol. A good song is worth a pint, and my hands stay soft.”
Things William Horner had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday after Saint Mark, at Vespers
Twenty groschen I offered to Gottfried Kramer for that book of fables he keeps locked away. Twenty! The coward still says no, terrified Vicar Osbert will hear a bawdy song and blame him. How am I to earn my bread if I have no new tales for the miners?
Nota scribaeDictated at the alehouse. He tapped his foot the entire time and spilled his ale on the parchment.
Saint George's day, at None
That bitter widow Magdalena is threatening to go to the bailiff over a few ruined birds. Cernik only dug under her fence! Margery brought the hound here and I love the beast, but none of us have the coin to pay the widow off. John will be furious.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Every supper it is the same shouting match. John thinks he is the lord of the house, Robert says he cleared the stumps, Emma shrieks about her dowry, and Roger wants a cottage. All over a thirty-pace strip of dirt our late father left us. I would rather be deaf.
It is my dowry! Father promised it, and you do nothing but sleep until midday anyway.
Nota scribaeHis sister Emma was present and objected loudly to the word shriek.
the second Sunday of Lent, at Terce
Soldiers on the road to town today. Hungarians, I think. I hid in a ditch until they passed. If the King's brother levies me for the war, I will end up dead on a pike, or worse, some Cuman will smash my lute. God save us from this mess.
Stay in the village and help your brothers then. It is safer than the Kuttenberg road.
Candlemas, at Sext
Vicar Osbert has frightened poor Gottfried into silence. I used to sit at the back of the Kuttenberg church just to hear him preach the old tales of Bruncvík and the lion. Now there is nothing but dreary sermons. I miss memorising the good parts for my tavern songs.
At least the miners still have coin for the songs I already know.
Nota scribaeThe scribe noted that the church is for prayer, not for gathering tavern material.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep your silver, William. The Vicar would have my head if he knew what you did to the tale of the Trojan women.