hired hand for the herdsman, of Troskowitz
“I am a pious man with a very delicate stomach, truth be told.”
Things Robert had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Compline
Truth be told, my digestion is in no state for the road to Sedletz. Saint Barbara knows my heart is willing, but a man needs strong beer to settle his stomach for such a holy walk. With Marion gone, how can I fulfill my solemn vow?
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his belly the whole time he spoke and whined like a beaten pup.
the Tuesday before Ascension, at None
My head is splitting. John has been shouting all morning about a missing spade. As if my stomach cramps were not enough to bear. Truth be told, his temper makes the whole yard a misery. I should be put on driving duty where it is quiet.
If you did not sleep half the day up in the hayloft, you would know where the bloody spade is!
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
Master Hugh is docking all our wages because Colle and Bragge killed neighbor Andrew's capons. It is a gross injustice, truth be told. Those useless dogs should have been whipped. Now I have not a single groschen to my name for beer.
Andrew prices his birds like they lay gold. We are all robbed blind by it.
Master Hugh makes us pay for the rain falling, let alone the dogs biting. It is a curse.
Nota scribaeDictated by the lower barn. He smelled heavily of sheep muck.
the Monday after St Gregory, at Terce
Marion has gone to Tachov to tend her sick sister. Our credit is gone with her. I cannot buy a jug of ale to ease my belly. Heavy hauling is terrible work for a man without a drop of beer to sustain him.
She runs a strict house. We will just have to drink well water till she returns, lad.
Candlemas, at Prime
The lambing season is cruel this year. I feared for my life in the cold last night. I made a solemn vow to Saint Barbara that I would walk to the monastery at Sedletz if I survived. I am a pious man, truth be told.
Praise be to the saints. A vow is a heavy thing to carry, Robert. See that you keep it.
Nota scribaeThe man was trembling when he said it, though the morning was fair.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are just a coward, Robert. Get on the road and stop weeping about your belly.
My affliction is real, John. The saints do not ask a pious man to die of the cramps in a ditch.