soldier on the walls, of Trosky
“I stand on the wall and wait for wages that never come. Best to keep quiet and avoid trouble.”
Things Adam had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Vespers
Still no wages from the treasury, and Easter is long gone. A man needs coin if he is to drink, but Lawrence tells me we must wait for the ground to thaw fully before we spend anything. We found some old things on patrol, but what good is it?
Nota scribaeThe man shifted from foot to foot the entire time he spoke of his friend's pouch.
the Tuesday after St Mark, at Prime
I need that iron lamp back, Jezhek. The sergeant is calling a gear inspection by Sunday, and if I do not have it, he will dock my pay again. I only passed it to you to save us the oil fee. Just give it over before Hynek finds out.
the third day of Easter week, at None
The cook gave us half a bowl of cabbage and a sliver of salted pork for the feast. God praise the risen Christ, but I would kill for a proper roast. The wind on the wall cuts right through a man's bones, and standing next to Hynek makes it colder.
At least it was hot cabbage today. Praise be for small mercies.
Nota scribaeHe looked over his shoulder three times before complaining of his rations.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Walter keeps asking if anyone has seen Denis. The man walked away from this freezing castle and took his winter cloak with him. I cannot say I blame him. If the sergeant fined me one more time for mud on my boots, I might have marched to Prague myself.
He did not just walk away. The man he argued with knows something, I swear it.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
I am sick of the glares. The ice cracked under Prokop at Nebakov pond. It was dark, and the rope was frozen stiff into a dozen knots because someone left it in the damp. I tried to untangle it, I did. I dropped it because my hands were numb.
You dropped the rope because you are a coward, Adam. Prokop is dead and you are making excuses.
You stored it badly, Hynek. It was nothing but a lump of ice.
Nota scribaeDictated in a low, trembling voice. The man would not meet my eyes as he spoke.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Hold your tongue, you fool. We spend it when it is safe to spend it, and not a day before.
I am thirsty now, Lawrence. Christ almighty.