collier at camp vidlak, of The charcoal burners' clearing
“I burn charcoal, drink ale to clear my throat, and shoot a bow better than any man in the woods. War took a lot out of us, but I am still standing.”
Things Thomas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Terce
Jan the Hound asked after his iron hat again. Reckon the smith in town is taking his bloody time with the rivets. I told him good work cannot be rushed, but he has no patience.
Nota scribaeHe spent a long time coughing before he could finish the sentence.
the feast of St Stanislaus, at Vespers
William the Boar has not said a word all day. Just stacking wood and hoarding his pennies for Godfrey's masses. A waste of good ale money, if you ask me. The dead do not drink.
Keep my brother's name out of your filthy mouth.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
John is still weeping over Christopher. It was mud and Hungarian horses that took him by that river, not Jan. I shot two hares yesterday to roast, but neither of them had the stomach for meat.
He slipped in the mud and nobody pulled him up. I will not break bread with cowards.
Nota scribaeThe word he used for the Hungarians was much fouler.
the Wednesday after St Gregory, at None
Bloody hell, the rain got into the north meiler. Master Robert sent his hired hands to fetch the yield and they docked us a groschen for damp charcoal. He never has to breathe this ash himself.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
My throat is coated in ash and I need a drink worse than salvation. Jicin is too far to walk in this cold, but Dorothy better keep my things safe in her cellar till I have silver again.
What things in Jicin? You swore my kettle hat was with your cousin.
Nota scribaeDictated while leaning against a tree.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You said last week you hid it in a stump. Which is it, Thomas?
The smith put it in the stump, lad. To cool the iron.