sentry at the barricades, of Sigismund's camp
“I stand watch on the southern barricade. Just trying to keep my head until pay arrives.”
Things Wenceslas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
Muster is coming and Richard will not stop barking about his iron cap. I told him it is safe, just being polished. Doubravka won't open her chest without coin, and Tobias hasn't paid us since winter. A man needs a drink in this mud, doesn't he?
Nota scribaeDictated near the supply wagons. The man kept looking over his shoulder the entire time.
the second Tuesday in May, at None
Roger keeps giving me that heavy look across the fire. He wants what we found in the ruined manor broken up and sold to a sutler, but if the provost catches us fencing lordly silver, it's a short rope. I told him I moved it.
the feast of St Florian, at Terce
Benesh threw his bowl at the fire again today. Ever since the retreat at Sedletz where we lost Jarda, he has been sour as old milk. James says Jarda was dead before he hit the ground. I say we are all freezing in the mud anyway.
He was breathing when James called the retreat. We left him in a ditch.
Shut your mouth, both of you, before the sergeants hear.
Nota scribaeHe spoke very fast and asked me to write quietly so the other soldiers would not hear.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Woke up shivering and some bastard had taken my left boot. None of us are thieves by nature, but when Doubravka holds your boots in pledge, taking a neighbour's is the only way to march. God's nails, my toes are blue.
My broken back hurts too much to chase you, but I know it was you who took my right boot last week.
the Monday after Candlemas, at Sext
A freezing night watch on the barricade tonight. Richard lent me a good iron cap, praise be. But Tobias says the wages are delayed again. I might have to visit the locked wagons and see if Doubravka will trade a skin of wine for a pledge.
Keep the rust off it, lad. I need it back for the muster.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Give it back by Sunday or I will break your jaw, you lying whoreson.
Keep your voice down before the bailiff's men hear you arguing.