January, 1635

As he did every Sunday, Hartmann went to do some shooting. He opened the door of the gun shop, nodding to Herr Schönebeck.

The shop owner grinned. “Greetings sergeant!”

“Morning, Franz. I came to use the range again.”

“Ah, yes.” Schönebeck lifted the counter section allowing access, and Hartmann walked through to the back. The other owner, Lüdecke Wulff, was standing beside a woman showing her how a . . .

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- The Grantville Gazette Staff