hired hand of Tachov, of Tachov
“I run errands for the bailiff and shoot a bow better than any man in Tachov, no matter what my miserable brother says.”
Things William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
I saw the soldiers on the Trosky wall today. Hungarian bastards could not hit a barn from the inside. Give me my bow and I would outshoot the lot of them. I told the bailiff as much, but he just gave me another sack to carry.
Nota scribaeHe smelled strongly of ale while dictating this.
the feast of St John before the Latin Gate, at None
Richard is complaining about his bad leg again. He swore to Saint Barbara he would walk barefoot to Sedletz monastery after his fever, but he has not gone. I reckon the saint is twisting his knee for breaking his vow. Or he is just lazy.
My father Tuma worked through worse pain, but the roads are full of mercenaries! It is not safe for a barefoot pilgrimage.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Jan and I had a screaming match. He owes me for an ale slate I paid at Easter, so I took his worn wooden rosary from the hearth. I will not give it back until he admits he owes me and pays his own slate. He can pray on his fingers until then.
You took it out of spite, you thief! Give it back. You know why I am saving my coin for Frantishek's ram.
Say you owe me for the ale and pay your slate, you miserable miser!
Nota scribaeThe brother Jan was standing outside the door shouting throughout the dictation.
the Wednesday after St Gregory, at Compline
Running messages for the bailiff all day wears a man's boots thin. Jakke the dog followed me to the tavern and ate a dropped sausage. At least one of us is fed well. Jan thinks I should train the beast, but throwing a stick is easier.
A working dog needs discipline, not just play. He is as useless as you are when it comes to earning a keep.
the day after Candlemas, at Terce
I lost something small in the rushes at the tavern last night. A copper ring that belonged to my late mother. I searched twice, but the floor is a muck of spilled beer and straw. Do not tell Jan. He will only nag me to death.
You lost mother's ring? God's nails, William! Is that why you will not look me in the eye?
Nota scribaeHe made me strike out the last sentence, then asked for it back, looking away.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Pride comes before a fall, William. And those soldiers have armour. Keep your head down and carry the sack.