soldier of the camp watch, of Sigismund's camp
“I stand in the mud and make sure I get what is owed to me, friend.”
Things Roger had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after St George, at Vespers
The Hungarians drank an entire barrel of sour wine and shat behind the supply tents again. I miss Avice and her watered beer. At least she smiled when she put it on the tally. I am the only sane man left in this cursed mud-hole.
Nota scribaeDictated while he spat onto the floor. I asked him to clean it up and he laughed.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Old Maresh is in the ground. The bloody flux took him. He should not have slept with his feet toward the door. He used to beat my head for closing my eyes on duty, so I cannot say I weep for him. The shed is a disorganized mess now, which suits me perfectly.
the eve of the Annunciation, at Compline
John is whining again about a certain heavy woollen cloak I wear to sleep. He says he deserves half of what it is worth, just because he stood nearby when I did the hard work. He walked away the moment he saw the provosts. Cowards get nothing, friend.
We found that wagon together. You owe me the groschen, you thieving bastard.
I owe you nothing but a laugh. Come take it off me if you are so brave.
Nota scribaeThe man was wrapped in a thick woollen garment that looked entirely too fine for a common soldier.
St Gregory's day, at Sext
Little Richard is shivering like a drowned rat because I will not give him his rusty hand-axe back. I took his freezing midnight watch last week. If he wants to chop his own kindling, he can look me in the eye, beg properly, and admit he owes me a day's wages.
the Thursday after St Valentine, at None
Four groschen gone. We sent that little bastard Baldwin to a farm to buy roasted chickens, and the boy ran off into the trees with our silver. Now John is accusing me of chasing him off to pocket the coin. The old fool's ledger of grudges is truly pathetic.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Maresh was a good lieutenant. You are just glad no one is here to thrash you when you sleep.
Go weep in your corner, John. I am having a rest.