Jan

the second Tuesday of May, at Sext

Andrew is whining about a bag of Kuttenberg nails. I gave them to Otto to settle a score, but the greedy whoreson kept them and my good boots. I will not help the boy until Otto surrenders my property, sakra. The lad should admit he let me trade them.

• 
  Andrew

  I never said you could trade them. They were for mending a bedframe, not paying your debts.

• 
  Otto

  The boots are mine now. You can freeze your toes for all I care.

Nota scribaeHe pointed a thick finger at the inkwell while speaking.

the third day of Easter week, at Vespers

Old Prokop is demanding silver because Adleta's miserable dog Cernik got into his yard and killed two laying hens. The man sits behind a locked door nursing his bad leg. I told her to ignore the fool completely. Let him limp over here and try to collect.

• 
  Adleta

  He says he will call the bailiff down on us. I cannot afford his silver, Jan.

• 
  Hynek

  The old miser should mend his chicken wire instead of weeping over dead birds.

the feast of St Gertrude, at None

The master wants a solid cart, but he hands me timber a blind beggar would throw on the fire. You cannot build a straight axle with warped wood. Then the rain starts and the loft roof leaks right onto my head. Kurva, my back aches.

• 
  Francis

  The wood is fine. Stop complaining and finish the wheel before Sunday.

Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

the Wednesday after St Matthias, at Prime

Otto refuses to patch the loft roof, so we argued and now the bastard has kept my boots. A man cannot work in the freezing mud with bare feet. I swear I will end up a beggar because of these fools.

• 
  Jan

  Give them back, Otto, or I will take a hammer to your skull.

Candlemas, at Compline

Constance the ale-wife packed her pots and went to Kuttenberg. Good riddance, but the bitch sold our winter drinking slate to the master before she left. Now he docks our spring wages a few pennies at a time. I have not seen a single coin. Never run up a slate, lads.

• 
  Andrew

  I miss her warm ale. It kept the frost out.

Nota scribaeHe smelled strongly of old beer.