camp labourer, of Mezholezy
“I am but a farmer caught in the king's war. I keep my head down and pray the clerks forget my face.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Ascension, at Vespers
Christ almighty, they say Matthew the clerk is writing out a new list for the vanguard. I am no fighting man, I cannot even hold a spear without shaking like a newborn calf. If they put me in the shield wall I will be dead before the first blow falls.
Nota scribaeThe man stammered so much I had to ask him to repeat himself thrice.
the eve of St Pancras, at Compline
My shoulders are raw from the water yoke. We are freezing by the embers and Thomas sits on his purse like a broody hen. Just one groschen for a round of ale would lift our spirits, but he will not part with a single penny.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Found a supply driver heading north and gave him half my wages for Svatava. I pray to Saint Peter the man is honest and gives it to her. If she cannot buy firewood, she will die alone in that cottage and it will be my fault.
You threw good coin down a well, John. That driver will drink it all in Kuttenberg.
It is a man's duty to his blood. You did right.
Nota scribaeHe wept a little when he spoke of his sister, which I pretended not to see.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Sext
Roger is trying to drag me into a scheme to get silver for a bribe. He talks too loud and the bailiff is going to hear him. I want to go home, aye, but I am too frightened of the whip to steal from anyone.
I am trying to save your skin as well as mine! If Andreas doesn't come back soon, we'll need another way.
Candlemas, at None
The ground is too hard to dig latrines properly, like trying to plough stone. I miss the fields in Mezholezy. I guard my wooden bowl here like it was the Holy Grail, else someone will snatch it and I will get no pottage at all.
Hold onto your bowl, lad, but do not forget you and Roger still owe me three groschen for that salted pork.
Christ almighty, I hoped you had forgotten.
Nota scribaeDictated near the sutler's tents. The stench was profound.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Stop pissing your breeches and help me find something to bribe him with. He can't write your name if his hand is full of silver.
Keep your silver, Roger. And John, just plough a straight furrow and do your work. They want soldiers in the vanguard, not men who cry over a latrine trench.