hired hand at the stables, of Suchdol
“I tend the beasts and dodge Kuttenberg wagons in the yard. I am the only man here who minds his own business.”
Things Simon had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Vespers
Richard is at it again. I sigh every time I see him coming. He thinks because I hold a merchant's horse, I am walking to Prague to find his brother Martin. I told him a dozen times I am not going anywhere. Martin is either rotting in a gaol or dead in a ditch.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before and after speaking this, keeping his hands tucked into his belt.
the Tuesday after St George, at None
I dropped a heavy wooden bucket behind John by the well. The lad jumped out of his skin, thinking it was the clerk David come to take him for the levy. If the army wants us, they will take us, ledger or no. No sense shaking like a leaf before the wind blows.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
The women in this house never stop. Emma is weeping for Standa again, and Anna is running about the taproom pretending she did not pawn the housemaid's travelling cloak. If they just kept their hands in the wash tub and their mouths shut, there would be half the trouble in the world.
I did not pawn it! I lost my purse and the cloak went missing on the same day.
Less talking, Simon, and more hauling. You owe me for three tankards.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted when the man had to grab a wandering sheep.
the feast of St Gertrude, at Sext
The steward is being tight with the oats again. I had to scrape the bottom of the bin to feed the bay gelding. Then the Kuttenberg wagons came through and nearly ran over my foot in the mud. I need a drink from Rosa's taproom to wash the dust out of my throat.
I saw that wagon. The driver was blind drunk.
the day after Candlemas, at Terce
It is bitter cold in the loft. Adam is shivering because he lent his padded jack to a passing carter, like a fool. I told him not to do it, but nobody in this yard listens to sense. I am going to muck out the stalls just to stand near the beasts for warmth.
The man said he would bring it back before Sunday. How was I to know?
Because he drinks his wages and forgets his own name, you lackwit.
Nota scribaeDictated while the man shifted his weight from foot to foot.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You could just ask the merchants if they saw him! It costs you no breath!
It costs me my peace, Richard. Go ask them yourself.