soldier in the camp, of Sigismund's camp
“I sit in the mud outside Kuttenberg, wait for orders, and try to keep my boots from rotting.”
Things Frantishek had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Compline
Alan goes to Kuttenberg tomorrow and still refuses to carry my letter to Kolin. I paid a camp scribe two pennies for it. It is not that far, and Agnes must think I am dead in a ditch by now.
Nota scribaeDictated by the latrines. He asked me twice if I was headed to Kolin. I told him no.
St George's day, at None
The quartermaster is doing his kit inspection today. Bartholomew is pressing hard to get his bone die back before his turn. Let him sweat. It is plain justice for all the groschen he took from us at hazard.
Give it back you little thief, or I will break your nose.
Just give it to him, Frantishek, we do not need the captains yelling at us.
Easter Sunday, at Sext
We are eating boiled oats for Easter while the captains drink wine in their pavilions. I am tired of this damp tent and tired of these old men. I just want to go home to my sister.
Stop whining. The oats are better than nothing, and the mud is the same everywhere.
the Wednesday after St Gregory, at Prime
Thomas walked away in the night. The others are shouting at each other about who let him slip past. Maurice stood my watch, so do not look at me. I say Thomas was the smart one.
If they catch him, they will hang him. Smart is keeping your head down.
Nota scribaeThe boy kept kicking the dirt while he spoke.
Candlemas, at Vespers
I took a bone die from Bartholomew during a game by the latrines. He uses it to fleece the mess, and I am keeping it. The man is a dog's arse.
Nota scribaeThe word he used was exactly that, God forgive him.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Kolin is the other way, lad. I am going to the taverns, not across the whole bloody country.
It is only down the road. You are just a lazy dog.