soldier at Nebakov fortress, of Nebakov fortress
“I am a soldier who has not seen a groschen of pay since Candlemas. I keep my head down and mind my own business.”
Things Jan had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Philip and James, at Compline
Klara the ale-wife sent word she will go to Captain Ulrich if we do not pay the forty groschen for the winter beer. Bloody hell. If the captain hears of this, he will beat the skin off our backs and search our things. I cannot sleep. My tunic feels too heavy.
Nota scribaeThe man cleared his throat constantly and kept pressing a hand to his chest.
the eve of St George, at None
Nicholas and Adam will not let up. They follow me around the yard, whispering. I haven't got a single groschen to give them, and they know I cannot go to a Kuttenberg smith to sell... well, to sell my old boots. They will bleed me dry.
Old boots, is it? Better find a buyer before the captain wonders why you are so protective of your clothes.
Nota scribaeDictated quickly while looking over his shoulder.
the second day of Easter week, at Sext
Roger and Geoffrey are at each other's throats again over the boy Stislav. I took the outer wall watch just to get away from the shouting in the barracks. Let the dead rest. Shouting will not bring the lad back from the cold.
the feast of St Gregory, at Prime
Still no wages since Candlemas. The King's brother has his Hungarians and Cumans burning the countryside, and we sit here hauling firewood like peasants. A man has to look out for his own survival in these times. If God provides a blessing in the muck, you do not share it.
Ay, the captain treats us like ditch diggers, not men-at-arms.
the Wednesday after St Matthias, at Vespers
Christ almighty, my bones are still frozen from that night at the Vidlak ponds. The Hungarian riders came out of the dark and we scattered. I lost my footing near a smashed merchant wagon in the dark, but I swear I came back with nothing but mud.
We all saw you crawling by that wagon, Jan. Question is, what did you crawl out with?
He has been patting his tunic ever since. Must be a cold chest.
Nota scribaeHe asked that the last part be written very clearly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Then you had best pay her, Jan. We all know you have the means to settle the slate.
Ay, do not be greedy. Save us all a beating.