farmhand at the Semin pastures, of Semin
“I am a man meant for the battlefield, currently biding my time among the draft horses.”
Things David had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The Hungarians are on the roads, they say. If I had my gambeson I would be marching with the vanguard to meet them! But no, that old thief Humphrey sold it to a passing peddler for ale money. How is a man of war to defend this estate in just his tunic?
Nota scribaeHe spoke loudly but kept looking at the door to see if the bailiff was listening.
the feast of St Pancras, at Sext
Robert keeps nagging me for his father's hoof knife. He acts like old Maresh was the King of Bohemia and the knife a holy relic. I only need it for one more trimming job on the nervous colts. A tool is meant to be used, not worshipped.
My father died of the fever and left me that knife. You borrowed it at Candlemas. Give it back.
Give the lad his knife, David. You've had it three months.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Mucking out the lower pastures again. My arms are aching from the heavy sacks of oats. It is tedious work for a man who knows flanking maneuvers and formations. I should be carrying a spear, not a pitchfork.
You wouldn't know a flank if it bit you on the arse. Keep shoveling.
Nota scribaeThe dictating was interrupted twice because a mare kicked the fence.
the third Wednesday of Lent, at None
I ate thin pottage again today. It is poor fare for a fighting man, but fasting is the Lord's will. Still no sign of Baldwin the peddler. If he shows his face in the Trosky region again, he will feel my wrath. My gambeson was worth ten of him.
the day after Candlemas, at Compline
I spent every saved groschen on a thick padded gambeson this winter. When the levy is called, I will be ready. I laid it in my chest in the loft. I am only borrowing Robert's hoof knife for a day or two to trim the mares, then I will return it.
It is a fine coat, lad. The tavern girls will surely look twice at you now.
Nota scribaeHe spent a long time describing the stitching on the padding.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Christ almighty, David, I told you Baldwin took it by mistake. Leave it be.
A mistake? You pawned my kit for a cup of sour beer!