guard at the lower gates, of Trosky
“I am the youngest watchman in the courtyard and I hate this damp miserable life. I stand by the gates until my feet freeze and think about my home village.”
Things Wenceslas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St Philip and St James, at Vespers
Quartermaster Tobias fined me a whole week of wages for my missing belt knife at the muster. Now I have no coin and nothing but boiled cabbage to eat. Simon took the bread right out of my mouth. If a kind soul would fetch it back from him, I would pay them gladly, though I owe him nothing.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
I lent my issue blade to Simon at the feast so he could cut his meat, and now the ass will not hand it back. Quartermaster Tobias has called a full kit inspection for Saint Mark's day. If I am missing my blade I will forfeit my pay. I do not know what to do.
You should have kept it in your sheath. Simon never gives anything back.
Nota scribaeDictated in a state of great panic, pacing the guardhouse floor.
the Thursday after Laetare Sunday, at Terce
Simon is riding out again and he flatly refuses to carry word to my sister Svatava. She must think I died in the mud last autumn. I just want her to know I am alive, but these seasoned men have hearts made of Kuttenberg stone.
the second Wednesday in Lent, at None
The wind off the horizon cuts right through this cheap jacket. I stood at the lower gates all morning stamping my feet, only to come back to the barracks and find they served the same heavy boiled cabbage from yesterday. I would give my left arm for a fresh loaf.
The cabbage is worse than the wind. At least the wind moves on.
Nota scribaeHe sighed no less than five times while speaking these words.
Candlemas, at Compline
The older men are drinking to the fallen tonight. I will not drink with Andrew. He ordered the retreat at Tachov and left poor Ulrich to bleed out alone in the rain. We should have held the line. God rest Ulrich, he treated me fairly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You owed me three groschen from the dice game, lad. A debt is a debt, even for a boy who cries for his sister.
I only let you borrow it to cut your Easter roast! You are a stubborn thief.