maidservant at the forge, of Tachov
“I haul water and scrub cauldrons at the forge until my hands bleed. I pray the damp does not take me like it took my father.”
Things Hedvika had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Ascension, at Vespers
The spring rain is coming right through the crack in the woodshed roof. I asked the housekeeper for two groschen for shingles and she told me to sleep with a bucket over my head. My cough is worse.
Nota scribaeDictated while wringing her apron endlessly. The girl sounded terribly ill.
the second day of Easter week, at Sext
Last Easter Clemence went off to Kuttenberg to marry a carter, and the saints cursed me with taking her place. Matilda left the heavy bucket for me again today and the blisters on my palms are weeping.
The big bucket builds your strength. Stop your whining and go feed Zubac.
Palm Sunday, at None
Zubac nearly took my hand off when I brought him the mutton scraps. At least he keeps the beggars away from the yard, though I wish he would keep Matilda away too.
I meant no disrespect, Matilda, I only meant the dog is fierce.
Nota scribaeThe girl had a nasty cough that interrupted her speech twice.
the Wednesday after Saint Gregory, at Prime
My legs are aching. Matilda had a screaming match over a spilled pitcher last Martinmas and now she refuses to walk to the lower village, so I must run all her errands in the bloody mud.
She started it, and I will not show my face there until she pays for the ale she spilled.
Nota scribaeDictated at the well. The bucket splashed my boots.
Candlemas, at Terce
The cold is deep in my bones today. If I did not have my late father's thick woollen socks I would surely die of the winter fever just as he did. I miss our old dry croft.
Your father was a fool not to leave you any silver, then you would not be hauling my water in the frost.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It builds character, girl. The ashes were not swept properly this morning either, so mind your broom before you beg for coin.
Clemence never complained about a little water.