spearman at the southern barricades, of Sigismund's camp
“I am a spearman in the king's service and the sharpest looking soldier in this bloody regiment. I hold the line while peasant boys tremble.”
Things Richard had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Ascension, at Vespers
The muster is nearly upon us, and Wenceslas still has not brought back my iron cap. The sergeants will beat me bloody and dock me six groschen if I stand in the line bareheaded. I swear I will break his jaw before Compline if he does not fetch it from Doubravka.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on the floor of the tent thrice while speaking.
the feast of St Philip and St James, at None
That thief Tobias sits in a stone house in Kuttenberg, counting our wages to earn his own interest on the silver. We have not seen a single coin since Candlemas. We are left to beg Doubravka for sour ale while she takes everything we own in pledge.
I traded my good knife for a piece of mutton yesterday. The clerk will see us starve.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
Stood my watch at the perimeter today. I keep my gambeson stitched and my spear head polished, so the townsfolk see a proper guardsman when they pass. Not like Adam, who jumps at every shadow, or Philip rubbing his arm like a sick old man.
the feast of St Gregory, at Prime
Benesh and James are bickering again about Jarda dying at Sedletz last Saint Martin's day. Bloody fools, both of them. He is dead in a ditch and weeping over it will not bring him back. I have my boots laced tight tonight so nobody steals them while they argue.
We left him to die alone, Richard. Have you no soul?
Nota scribaeDictated by the campfire. The man checked his bootlaces twice.
the day after Candlemas, at Terce
I did a charity and lent my good iron cap to Wenceslas for the night watch. I paid three groschen for that cap. The bloody fool took it straight to Doubravka and left it in pledge for a skin of wine. Now she has it locked in her chest.
It was freezing out there, Richard! I needed the wine to keep the chill off. I will get it back when Tobias pays us.
You will never see that cap again, lad.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Stop your bloody whining, Richard. Doubravka wants two groschen for it and Tobias hasn't paid us since Candlemas.
Leave the lad be, Richard. I will see if I can find a spare kettle helmet in the wagons tonight.