soldier at the mint, of The secret mint
“I stand watch at the door and keep the peace in this cellar. The work is quiet and out of the mud, which suits me.”
Things Roger had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at None
The damp in this cellar gets into a man's bones. A fellow I knew had an ache that would not sleep, and he swore by a poultice of comfrey. If anyone knows a runner fetching supplies, tell them to bring some root. For my back, not that it is anyone's business.
Nota scribaeHe spoke with his left hand firmly wedged in his belt the entire time.
the second day of May, at Vespers
Jan and Robert are at it again over that skirmish at Kolin. Jan says Christopher would be breathing if Robert held the line. I told them both to shut their mouths and watch the crucibles. Men who run from Hungarian arrows have no right to boast.
the Wednesday after Easter, at Terce
Easter has come and gone, and the runners brought us bread and weak beer but no groschen. Thomas is pacing a hole in the floor over it. I told him discipline is what keeps a soldier fed, but the master tests a man's patience. We do our duty regardless.
To hell with discipline, Roger! A hungry dog bites the hand that starves it.
Keep your voice down, Thomas. The runners have ears.
Nota scribaeThe man spoke quietly, casting a wary eye toward his companion.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Prime
Another shift begins. The smoke from the forge room makes the eyes water, but it is warmer than a winter camp. I watch the drops cool and make sure Hynek and Ralph the Drunk do not slip any into their boots. They are soft men, but they know how to dig.
I haven't stolen a single penny, you whoreson. I barely have boots.
Candlemas, at Compline
Peshek's man brought us down into the dark. It is a strange thing to guard a forge that has no windows and no sky above it, but it pays better than guarding a lord's baggage cart. The Kuttenberg men are already whining about the air. Let them whine. I have my orders.
You are paid to watch the door, not the sky. Do your job.
Nota scribaeHe dictated this while inspecting the hinge of a heavy wooden door.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I will fetch you the root myself if Peshek ever sends our coin. The bastard owes us.