soldier of the praguer train, of Sigismund's camp
“I keep watch over the baggage train and ensure order among the men. A camp falls apart without a firm hand.”
Things Nicholas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday after St George, at None
Leonard complains he cannot finish digging the latrine trench. He knows very well that I hold his spade as a pledge for the ten groschen he lost at dice. He will get the tool back when the coin is paid. If Provost Hynek flogs him for a half-dug trench, it is his own doing.
Nota scribaeThe man dictated this standing stiff as a board with his hands in his belt.
the Thursday after Easter, at Vespers
There is silver in this camp that men hide. Some men claim to drop what they carry, but a careful man knows a liar. I watch the wagons, and I watch the men. A welsher cannot be trusted with a copper penny, let alone a purse.
the Tuesday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Daniel ruined his boots in the mud and now expects sympathy. He is a noisy drunkard. If he cared for his gear as I do mine, he would not be walking barefoot. I have wiped the rust from my blade and my boots are stitched tight.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Paul weeps for his mother Magdalena again. It is a military camp, not a nursery. If he cannot bear the life of a soldier, he should have stayed in the New Town. I have tallied the debts from last night's dice, and Reginald owes Wenceslas more than he can pay.
She sent good cheese last autumn. You ate it too.
Nota scribaeHe checked his ledger twice before letting me write the names.
Ash Wednesday, at Compline
Leonard lost ten groschen to me at the dice board tonight. He refused to pay. I took his trenching spade. A wager is a wager, and order must be maintained. I do not gamble away my wages, but I collect what I win.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Give it back! I will be whipped to the bone if the provost sees this.
Pay your debts.