woodcutter for master jan, of Suchdol
“I chop the wood, split the logs, and haul the heavy cart. A man's worth is what his shoulders can bear, and I earn my porridge.”
Things Robert had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
Took the heavy cart down to the mill today. The mud is thick from the rain, and the ruts pull at the wheels. Kudla kept the wolves off in the woods, asking nothing but a scrap of gristle for his trouble. The master expects a full day's sweat, and he'll have it.
St George's Day, at None
I would give a month's pennies for my late mother Clemence to be here. Her willow-bark poultices kept the cold out of a man's bones. Without them, the damp makes swinging the axe a bloody curse, though I'd never let the master see me wince.
She was a good woman, your mother. I heard she could cure a rotted tooth with a single curse.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his lower back for a long time before speaking, grimacing at the wall.
the Tuesday in Easter week, at Prime
Joan and Edith are in a panic over some debt they owe the parish priest. Bloody fools. They fret over purgatory when this earth is hard enough. They should try hauling an iron pot for the housekeeper like Alice does, then tell me about suffering.
the feast of St Gregory, at Sext
Caught a hired digger putting his dirty fingers on my late father's whetstone in the yard. I knocked him into the muck. A man's tools are his own, and I'll break the jaw of the next whoreson who forgets it.
Good on you. Better a bruised arse for him than a ruined stone for you.
Candlemas, at Prime
Three winters since the timber cart slipped on the ice and pinned me against that thick oak. Me and Alice crawled back to the yard and picked up our tools the very next morning. The bones knit crooked, but a man works, or he goes out on the road to beg.
My shoulder still grinds when the snow falls, Robert. But we are still standing.
Nota scribaeThe man speaks as slowly and stiffly as a rusted hinge.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
See that the wood is stacked dry in the yard, Robert. I'm not paying you for damp kindling.