kitchen hand in the baggage train, of Sigismund's camp
“I scrub cauldrons and keep my head down. It keeps me fed, and that is all I ask.”
Things Richard had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Vespers
Francis still denies Isabel a scrap of canvas for her roof. The man is a petty thief who steals from the king's own stores while we freeze. I heated stones in the fire again so the poor girl does not perish in the night.
Nota scribaeDictated by the supply wagons. He rubbed his hands nervously on his dirty apron throughout.
the feast of Saint Mark, at Compline
I lost the small bone comb by the latrines a week past. It was Klara's only thing I kept. If any of the soldiers trampled it into the mud, I do not know what I will do. I have paced the paths looking until my eyes ache.
I am so sorry for your loss, Richard. I will watch the ground carefully when I fetch water.
the Tuesday of Easter week, at Sext
Alice weeps over breaking her vow to walk barefoot to Sedletz. I told her the Lord is too busy watching soldiers slaughter each other to care about her bare feet.
You should not speak so lightly of vows! A promise to the Lord is not dirt to be scrubbed.
Nota scribaeThe man sighed heavily before speaking and kept his eyes on his boots.
the fourth Sunday in Lent, at Prime
The sand here is coarse and leaves my knuckles bleeding. Better to scrub burnt gruel all day than starve on the empty road, I reckon. But my hands are in a sorry state.
Stop your whining and get the big cauldron clean before the captains want their meat.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Terce
Three winters today since the coughing sickness took my Klara. The camp is loud tonight, but I am just tired. I will sleep by the flour sacks and try to remember her face.
Poor Klara. At least she does not have to see these Hungarian devils everywhere.
Nota scribaeWritten in the cold. The subject was reluctant to speak at all.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
God bless you for the stones, Richard. I slept through the night without shivering.