Prokop

the Tuesday after Whitsun, at None

Quartermaster Tobias can rot in his upper keep. The kit inspection on Saint Mark's day is long done, and my belt knife was right where it belongs. Let the others weep over docked wages, I kept my groschen.

• 
  Gilbert

  Some men do not need a knife if they have a mouth loud enough.

• 
  Prokop

  At least I did not take another man's blade to cover up a tavern brawl.

the feast of Saint Philip and Saint James, at Vespers

Zdenyek found another reason not to walk barefoot to Sedletz. Today it is a blister, yesterday it was a bad omen. By Saint George, if you swear a holy oath, get walking or shut your mouth. The cabbage here is bad enough without a fool.

• 
  Zdenyek

  The Lord does not want a man to walk on a festering heel, Prokop.

Nota scribaeHe slapped his thighs so hard while dictating that he knocked his ale over.

the third day of Easter week, at Prime

Reginald opened his stinking mouth again about the woods at Tachov. I told him straight, I only fell back because the order was shouted! I am no coward. I didn't leave Ulrich in the mud by choice. Any man who says otherwise will swallow his teeth.

• 
  Reginald

  You ran before the order was even given. Ulrich bled out while you were looking at your boots.

• 
  Prokop

  You lying old bastard! Saint George strike you blind, I was the last to turn!

• 
  Simon

  Enough. He is dead and shouting will not bring him out of the dirt.

Nota scribaeHe was shouting so loud the horses in the stables started kicking at their stalls.

the eve of Saint Gregory, at Sext

Andrew the soldier walks around the courtyard acting like a commander, but I know what happened last November. He panicked. He gave the retreat order too soon when the fighting got thick. Ulrich died because of him, not me. I want him to admit it.

• 
  Andrew

  There were thirty mercenaries in those trees, you fool. We would all be dead if we stayed.

• 
  Daniel

  Let it rest, Prokop. The order was given, and we all ran from the woods.

the day after Candlemas, at Terce

The wind off the lower gates cuts right through my tunic. Standa will not stop complaining about the cold on our bench. Diced away my last groschen at midday, so it is nothing but hard crusts and the kitchens' bloody iron pots of boiled cabbage again.

• 
  Standa

  If you did not pull the blanket entirely to your side, I wouldn't complain so much.

• 
  Prokop

  You sleep like a dying fish, lad. Find your own blanket if you are cold.

Nota scribaeDictated while stamping his boots heavily in the mud to keep the feeling in them.