guard at Trosky, of Trosky
“I stand the gate watch and try to keep the recruits from getting killed. A veteran knows his duty.”
Things Bartholomew had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Tobias kept his gold and I kept my knife. The muster is done but the cabbage from the kitchen gets thinner every day. Wenceslas is still weeping over his sister Svatava like a wet nurse. I told the boy to stand up straight and hold his pike.
Saint Mark's day, at Terce
Quartermaster Tobias is coming down from the upper keep to look at our iron belt knives. Any man without the stamp loses a week's wages. My blade is polished and ready. The man has never seen a real skirmish but he loves to count our pennies.
I cannot find mine. Christ almighty, the quartermaster will have my hide.
Nota scribaeDictated during the morning watch. He would not stop pacing across the stones.
the second day of Easter week, at None
I saw Standa gambling by the wall today. He acts like he has no sins to weigh him down. If he had held his flank in the mud at Tachov last November, Ulrich would be drinking ale with us now. The boy panicked and broke formation. I saw it.
I never broke formation! You dropped your shield and let the mercenaries right through!
We all saw you drop the shield, Bartholomew. Stop blaming the lad for what your own hands did.
My arm was completely numb from a heavy blow! No man alive could have held it!
Nota scribaeThe man pointed his index finger at me the entire time he spoke.
the Wednesday after Saint Gregory, at Prime
A cold morning on the gate watch. Daniel came near the fire and I walked away. I have no time for men who cannot see reason. I tried to tell the new recruits how to brace a spear against a charge, but they just stare like sheep.
If you walked barefoot to Sedletz monastery, the Lord might ease your troubled mind.
A foolish vow will not keep the Cumans away, Zdenyek.
Candlemas, at Sext
The wind off the lower gates freezes the marrow in your bones. We sleep on hard wood above the stables and wake up smelling of horse piss. I told Gilbert and Hynek that things were better before the King was taken, when a veteran guard got a decent blanket.
Aye, the blankets are thin, but at least the roof keeps the worst of the rain out.
Nota scribaeHe dictated this in the courtyard, complaining of a terrible ache in his back.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Leave my sister out of it, Bartholomew. She is the only kin I have left in this miserable world.