watch commander at baba tower, of Trosky
“I am a nobleman holding the vital command of Baba tower, waiting for a proper estate.”
Things William of Maleshov had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
My knee is swelling terribly in this spring damp. It is an old injury, making a march with the footmen quite impossible. I must find eighty groschen to send to Stephen at the keep, so he might correct his levy list. I fear I must part with my father's silver spurs.
Nota scribaeHe tapped his fingers on his ledger the entire time he spoke, sweating despite the chill.
the Thursday after St George, at None
Sigismund's mercenaries are on the roads like common bandits. The mule train with our provisions is days late. We are eating salted pork as hard as stone, and my digestion is utterly ruined. A man of my lineage should not be forced to swallow such fodder.
We all eat the same salt, William. Wash it down with water and cease your weeping.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
The archers are gambling again near the signal wood. I leave them to it so long as the bundles remain dry, but their foul manners are a trial. My late mother Eleanor used to dine with margraves. She would weep to see me quartered in such squalor.
If you speak of her dinners one more time, I swear by God's wounds I will throw myself from the parapet.
Nota scribaeI have been forced to hear of this mother every day since Ash Wednesday.
the eve of St Gregory, at Terce
I sleep nearest the hearth, as is my right, but the wind still finds its way through the arrow slits. I spent the morning tallying oil flasks. It is a vital duty, tracking the fuel, though the men think only of their next cup of ale.
You hoard your coin and refuse to pay for a round, William. Do not speak to us of ale.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
The Holy Father demands we chronicle our days. Very well. I am William of Maleshov, nobleman by birth, stationed at Baba tower until the fighting dies down. I keep the firebook. It is a quiet duty, a mere stepping stone before I join a proper lord's retinue.
A stepping stone, eh? You have been staring at that same fire for three winters.
Nota scribaeHe insisted I write 'nobleman' twice, but I refused.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
A sudden affliction, is it? You had best wrap that knee warm before the march.
It is a lingering torment. A Cuman arrow does not care for lineage, but my leg simply will not hold.