guard at the lower gate, of Trosky
“I stand at the gate and let the merchants yell at me. Most days I am just waiting for the next disaster to strike.”
Things Jarda had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Monday after Ascension, at Vespers
The merchants from Semine act as if a toll of three pennies is the ruin of their house. I stood at the gate all day listening to them weep over copper. Now David is coughing his lungs out in the corner and there is only thin pottage for supper.
Nota scribaeDictated at the mess table. The man looked ready to fall asleep directly into his wooden bowl.
the day after Saint George, at Prime
Drslav took my Easter wages. Every groschen, gone for the arrows Maurice dropped in the river at Kolin. I shared the bundle, so I share the ruin. I have no coin for ale and Maurice just looks the other way when I pass him.
Holy Saturday, at None
Leonard has been glaring at me all week about old Peshek. He says I should have stopped Frantishek from leaving the old man by the road. I am just a guard. I do not give the marching orders. God knows I think about it enough without Leonard barking at me.
You just stood there and watched him die in the mud. You could have spoken up.
He was dying anyway of the fever! Did you want us all dead on the road with him?
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before speaking and rubbed his eyes throughout.
the Thursday after Ash Wednesday, at Sext
I lent Julian my brass oil lamp yesterday so he could look for a ring in the stables, and the whoreson kept it. He says I owe him ten groschen for a whetstone I borrowed last autumn. The stone was already cracked! Now I stand the night watch in the pitch dark.
Pay for the whetstone and you get the lamp back. That is how a pledge works.
the week after Candlemas, at Compline
It is freezing in the barracks tonight. I keep thinking of Bynyek going under the heavy wagon wheel at the ford. We should never have been marching in that deep mud. I hope he is warm in heaven, because we are shivering down here.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Get some sleep, Jarda. The merchants will still be weeping tomorrow.