soldier at the secret mint, of The secret mint
“I stood the mud at Kolin while cowards ran. Now I guard dirt-grubbers in a hole.”
Things Thomas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
If Master Peshek does not send our coin soon, I will march out of this cellar and take it from him. Not a groschen since Easter! We are treated worse than the bloody forced laborers.
Nota scribaeThe man struck his sword pommel so hard he bruised his own hand.
the feast of St Sigismund, at Terce
Jan and Robert are at it again over the dead. They squeal about who abandoned Maresh and Christopher in the mud at Kolin. They all broke the line. A proper soldier does not run.
the third day of Easter week, at None
Another delivery of raw silver and weak beer from the runner, but no wages. Master Peshek promised quick coin when I took this post. I am no nursemaid to be forgotten underground to starve.
The beer is worse than weak, it tastes of the river.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Prime
The noise in this pit is a misery. First light and the miners start their bloody hammering. I told Ralph to keep the din down, but the drunkard barely hears me over his own pick.
Rock does not yield to silence, lad. Drink some ale and you will not care.
Nota scribaeDictated near the cellar door. The noise was indeed terrible.
Candlemas, at Sext
Master Peshek hired me to guard this cellar door. Keep the miners in, keep strangers out. I expect the pay will be good and the campaign will soon end so I can go home.
We will stand the watch together, brother. Just mind the damp.
Nota scribaeHe spoke with a straight back and his hand resting on his blade.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep your voice down, Thomas. The coin will come.
You act like you are the only one trapped down here eating bad bread.