provost in the army, of Sigismund's camp
“I keep order for the garrison, God help me. Now I watch over boys who lack any spine.”
Things Robert had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Half the rations are stolen before they reach the kettles. The discipline is rotting. I watched Ernest drag a heavy chest from the wrecked tollhouse weeks ago, and I am still waiting to see what he does with the Flemish cloth he took from it. He thinks no one saw.
the second Tuesday in May, at None
Thomas is a fool. He saves his good silver pay to buy out the contract of that seamstress Adleta in Kuttenberg. Wasting groschen on a town girl who sits in a stone house turning soldiers away. He will end up with empty pockets and no bed to sleep in.
She is a virtuous woman, Robert. You would not know what that looks like.
Nota scribaeDictated at the trestle tables. He spat on the ground after saying the girl's name.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Havel is still tormenting Hynek over that letter to Prague. A cruel punishment for Stephen drowning in the river, but I cannot say it is unjust. Grudges should be nurtured. Men must be made to remember what their cowardice costs.
Aye. Someone has to make him pay for letting Stephen slip beneath the water.
the Friday in Lent, at Sext
I sit here eating thin barley and onions, watching William and Zdenyek bicker over a bone die. Pathetic. A cowardly way to avoid their guilt over Martin freezing to death. If they think throwing dice will make them forget who killed him, they are duller than I thought.
Candlemas, at Compline
Martin is dead in a blinding drift. William could not navigate and led us into a gully, and Zdenyek panicked and let go of the guide rope. I was the only one who kept his head. Now they look at me like I should have dragged him out myself. Fools.
I followed the markers! The wind took them, not me. You did nothing to save him.
Nota scribaeHe dictated this while rubbing his hands by the fire, shivering and crossing his arms tightly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I found nothing but wet wood in that chest, Robert. You see ghosts where there are none.