provost of the Prague garrison, of Sigismund's camp
“I watch the ale barrels and keep the tallies straight for the quartermaster. A dry throat is worse than a Hungarian arrow, so they tell me.”
Things Hynek had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
The sutler brought up a cart of decent bread today, and I bought a loaf for myself. It’s better than the gruel the cooks serve, which tastes of muddy water and disappointment. Let a man enjoy a crust, I say, without staring at his mouth.
the feast of St Mark, at Vespers
Thomas has not shut his mouth about his Kuttenberg maid since dawn. Adleta this, Adleta that. The lad is saving his groschen to buy her out of service. Christ almighty, he could buy three good horses with the coin he's hoarding for a woman who won't even look out the window at him.
You wouldn't understand, Hynek. She's a good girl, and she promised.
She promised to take your coin, lad. They all do.
Nota scribaeThe man spoke fast, using his hands as if shooing away a fly.
the Monday after Easter, at Sext
Ernest showed me a scrap of Flemish cloth today. Said he found it in the mud. I said nothing, but I know what I saw in that wrecked tollhouse. A wise man keeps his head down and his mouth shut, and Ernest is a wise man.
the fourth Sunday in Lent, at Terce
Havel is at me again. He wants me to carry a letter to Prague for him. To his kin. I cannot leave the camp, and he knows it well enough. The man is determined to drive me mad. And he keeps asking after that heavy copper jug he left on the cart.
It was Stephen's jug. And you took it after you let him drown in the river.
I had a pole, Havel, but the horse bumped me! I could not reach him in time. You saw it!
You were always quick to save yourself, Hynek.
Nota scribaeHe drank from the jug in question while dictating.
the start of spring, at Compline
We crossed the river today. The current was fast from the meltwater. A cart slipped off the bank into the freeze. The clerk, Stephen, went into the water. Bloody hell, I tried to reach him, but a panicked horse knocked me aside. He went under. May God have mercy on his soul.
You hesitated. You stood there and watched him die.
The river takes what it wants, Havel. He couldn't have pulled him out.
Nota scribaeDictated in a low, rushed voice. The man kept looking over his shoulder.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
And how do you pay for better bread, Hynek? More foam in the men's cups?
I save my pay, Havel. And I don't drink it all away. Simple as that.
Save a crust for me, you tight bastard.