hired hand at vodnik works
“I do the heavy lifting at the timber yard and keep my head down. A lad has to eat.”
Things Hugh had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
I sifted through the whole pile of elm bark today and didn't find a thing. My neck feels bare and my hands can't stay still. I swear it's got to be somewhere in the yard, unless one of you swept it into the water.
Nota scribaeHe spoke in a terrible rush, picking at his empty collar the whole time.
The feast of St Philip and St James, at Vespers
Carried the heavy end of the oak beams today so William wouldn't have to strain himself. The old man does fine, he just needs a bit of a rest now and then. Master Andreas didn't even come out of his counting house, just as well.
You're a good lad, Hugh. My grip was slipping on the damp wood today.
I see everything from my window. Less talking, more hauling.
The second day of Easter week, at Prime
Saw some men coming back from the Prague road and thought one of them might be Alan. He's been gone with the levy since last summer. It's not just the four pennies he owes me, though I could use them. We just miss his strong back on the cutting floor.
That whoreson is dead in a ditch somewhere, and your groschen with him. We're doing his share of the work for nothing.
The Friday after St Gregory, at None
Hynek has been shouting about the broken thatch on his shed again, and the price of a loaf at the market. I just let him yell. Sometimes the noise covers up the sound of the saws, and it does help when he shouts at the master for our late wages.
If you slept under a hole the size of a cartwheel, you'd shout too! The master is a tight-fisted bastard.
Just keep your voice down when the master comes round to count the broken blades.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted twice by another worker yelling from a shed.
Candlemas, at Compline
I cannot find it. The little bone fish my mother gave me before the sweating sickness took her. I must have dropped it near the saws when the leather cord snapped. I've been crawling in the sawdust all evening. If anyone finds a polished sheep bone, please, it's all I have left of her.
We will help you look in the morning, lad. God rest your mother's soul.
Nota scribaeThe boy was weeping and spoke so fast I could barely get the words down.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Christ almighty, boy, give it a rest. The river took your little fish weeks ago.
Leave the lad be, Hynek. We'll check the lower banks tomorrow, Hugh.