guard at the lower bailey, of Trosky
“I walk the walls and wait for the bell to ring. If men kept their mouths shut, life would be well enough.”
Things Denis had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
Lambert asked me again to carry a message to his sister in Kuttenberg. I told him for the eleventh time I am not going to Kuttenberg. I am walking the wall until my shift ends, and then I am going to sleep.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before and after speaking this, and would not look up.
the Tuesday after St Pancras, at Terce
William was asleep behind the stables during his watch. I left him there. It is not my problem if the captain catches him. I only wish the guardroom was half as quiet as those stables so I could get some rest.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Julian is pacing again, scheming how to keep off Edward's levy list. He talks too loud. If the bailiff hears him, we'll all end up marching in the mud like three winters ago. I just want to stand my watch and be left alone.
the third Sunday of Lent, at None
The oats at the lower mess are mostly husks and there is no pork fat for Lent. But at least when you are chewing husks you do not have to talk to anyone.
Bloody hell, the food is worse than dirt.
Aye, but dirt is free.
Nota scribaeDictated in the lower mess. The man stared at his boots the whole time and spoke very softly.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Sext
Lambert said he has not heard from his kin in Kuttenberg and asked if I would be riding that way. I told him I do not ride, I walk the wall. I hope that is the end of the matter.
I only asked a small favour, lad. You need not be so sour about it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is not so far, Denis. A good man would do a Christian favour.
I am not a good man.