nomad of the camp, of Nomad camp
“I am the cleverest fellow in this mud hole. I shape wood, throw dice, and let the rest break their backs for nothing.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after Whitsun, at None
Young David is shaking like a leaf over the true levy. I told the boy he cannot hide from the spears, but he will not listen. If the mud does not take him, the king's war surely will. He should sit and play a round with me before he goes.
the feast of St Pancras, at Vespers
Lord above, Joseph is a blind fool. He left his pack wide open, and now his mail coif is gone. He weeps about the Easter muster, not knowing Andrew pawned it to Drslav to pay off his dice debts to me. And Drslav is locked in the debtor cell!
What do you know of my coif? God's nails, if Andrew took it I will break his jaw!
Keep your mouth shut, John, or I will break yours first.
Nota scribaeDictated while the man was counting pennies. I wrote it down as ordered.
the second Sunday after Easter, at Prime
Simon the clerk is prowling the wagons again for his cursed pitch-fee. I made sure to take my bucket to the far edge of the camp. Let the spearmen pay for the mud we sleep in. I have better uses for my groschen.
You dodge the fee, yet you complain when the wagons are not mended. You are a leech, John.
the Wednesday before Laetare Sunday, at Sext
Daniel sits in a rotting wagon, drinking himself to death over Anne. The chest chill took her during the thaw, God rest her, but weeping will not bring her back. He should buy a good blanket and a warm jug instead of letting Nicholas nurse his fever all night.
May the devil take your tongue. You never knew my Anne.
Nota scribaeThe speaker spat twice into the dirt while saying this.
the day after Candlemas, at Terce
William says I stole his carving awl, but the lad must learn to lose gracefully. He handed it over to settle a bad bet at the tavern. And Roger's drawknife? I am just keeping it safe until I have no more use for it.
It was a lent tool, John, not a wager! Give it back before I tell the bailiff.
I need that drawknife for my own wood. You are a thief plain and simple.
Come and take them if you are men, dearest friends.
Nota scribaeThe word he used for William was not 'lad'.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I am not shaking, John. You would sing a different tune if your name was on the bailiff's roll.