Liber Vultuum
Liber Vultuum, volumen Kuttenbergensefol. 81r
Portrait of Alice Wright

Alice Wright

cook at the camp, of Sigismund's camp

“I roast meat for the Hungarian captains and look after my three dogs. That is all there is to it.”

Quid vis scribi?The scribe is at Vespers. Come back after, and bring him a candle.

Dicta

Things Alice Wright had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.

the eve of Ascension, at Vespers

If anyone finds feathers behind the latrine ditches, they blew there on the wind. My Whitefoot is a good hound and never touched those birds. I just need three groschen to square things before Francis hears of it.

  • Isabel
    Isabel

    Francis will wring his neck if he finds out. Keep that beast tied up, Alice.

  • Alice Wright
    Alice Wright

    He slipped his rope! He is a clever lad, not malicious.

Nota scribaeThe woman kept looking over her shoulder while dictating this.

the second day of Easter week, at None

Standa rode for Prague and would not carry word to my mother without three groschen. And Edith refuses to walk north to tell her I am alive. Selfish, the lot of them. Mam has a bad hip and is all alone.

  • Edith Black
    Edith Black

    I am not walking three weeks through a war zone to check on your mother, you mad cow.

Maundy Thursday, at Prime

Alice from the bathhouse is weeping over some broken vow to walk to Sedletz. Bloody hell, there are soldiers on the roads and meat to turn. Have some sense. At least Isabel knows enough to curse Francis for her torn roof.

  • Alice
    Alice

    The Lord notices a broken vow, no matter what you say.

Nota scribaeShe wiped grease on the ledger.

the feast of St Gertrude, at Terce

These Hungarian captains want their meat before the fire has even touched it. I smile and hand it over, but I curse them in good Bohemian. The fattest ends go to Amiable, Lemon, and Whitefoot anyway.

  • Richard
    Richard

    I wish I had some of those scraps for my own soup.

the Monday after Candlemas, at Sext

Woke up freezing until I felt the dogs still sleeping beside me. I keep my basting ladle right in my shift. It is bloody hard work out here, and I miss my mam. God keep her safe up north.

  • Edith Black
    Edith Black

    We all miss home, Alice. Just keep turning the spit.

Nota scribaeDictated loudly over the sound of barking.

From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.