lumberjack at camp Podseminsko, of The woodcutters' camps
“I swing an axe every day for the estates and let no man push me around.”
Things Osbert had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The eve of Ascension, at Vespers
Gilbert keeps looking at my bedding. He thinks I do not see him, but I do. He is a coward who wants silver without the risk of the ditch. If he goes to the bailiff with tales from the autumn levy, he will regret it. I am holding my ground.
Nota scribaeThe man spat upon the floor of the parish house after saying this. I made him wipe it.
The Thursday after Easter, at None
We eat thin barley porridge every morning. That merchant Prokop is away in Jicin, and when he returns he will charge us double for salted fat. A man needs meat to drag beech all day, but I will not be cheated.
My belly is rumbling right now. I hope he brings good fat.
The Monday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Drslav rode the boundary today. He sits on his horse and cheats our tally marks while he sleeps in a dry bed. We freeze in the wet, dragging logs, and he docks our pennies. I stared him down. I do not bend for a foreman.
Mind your tongue, Osbert. Drslav has the ear of the bailiff.
Nota scribaeDictated slowly, through clenched teeth.
The second Wednesday of Lent, at Terce
Havel claims I stole his rusty backup axe. Young Simon handed it to me so I could make our timber quota, since his own hand is ruined. It was fairly borrowed. Havel owes me more than the worth of an axe from the autumn levy, and he knows it.
The day after Candlemas, at Vespers
We returned from the woods wet to the bone. The autumn levy was hard enough, clearing timber for the soldiers in the freezing rain for copper coins. Now we are back, and already there is shouting in the shack. Let them try me.
It is too cold to fight. Let us just sleep.
Nota scribaeThe man smelled strongly of wet wool and refused to sit down.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I look at nothing, Osbert. You are jumping at shadows in the dark.
Keep your voice down, you fool. Do you want the rope for all of us?