Grantville Gazette, Volume 70

by Bjorn Hasseler

  ****

  Late April, 1634

  Grantville

  The sky was slightly overcast as Dieter rode up to Archie's home trailing a packhorse. In front of the house was a light wagon with a horse already hitched and another horse tied to the rear. In the back of the wagon were a saddle, worn and cracked, saddlebags, and two of Archie's old footlockers. Marjorie Mitchell was standing on their porch giving Archie a kiss and hug. They had been married over forty years and weren't used to being apart.

  It was time to leave. "Bye, Marj. See you in a month?"

  " 'Bout that, I think. Be careful, Arch."

  Archie nodded and carefully stepped down his front steps using his cane to support his weakened leg and carried his lever-action Winchester rifle in his other hand.

  "Where did you get this wagon, Archie? I've not seen one like this before."

  "I had it built in Saalfeld last year. It's called a buckboard. The wainwright built it from some pictures I had. A hundred years ago, Grantville time, these wagons were as common as automobiles were in the twentieth century."

  "It doesn't appear too sturdy."

  "It's not designed to carry heavy freight, just people and stuff, like a small pickup truck. Plus, I can haul more stuff than using a packhorse. Doc Nichols suggested that I not ride a horse yet."

  "What are you doing with that old saddle?"

  "That was my grandfather's. He used to be a cowboy in Oklahoma before he married my grandmother. I've heard about a saddle maker in Suhl. I'm going to have him make me a new one based on this design. I did some horse swapping last week and got a couple of good, sturdy riding horses. This is mine," Archie said pointing to the horse tied to the back of the wagon. "Marjorie's old saddle fits her roan, but mine, the pinto here, needs a new saddle. My old saddle doesn't fit."

  Dieter wasn't too familiar with horses or saddles. He just rode whatever was available. The new horse was a mottled white and brown.

  He knew Archie had owned several horses before the Ring of Fire. He'd not thought about it much. Now that he had seen the wagon, he could see how useful it could be. Maybe he should talk to Greta about a wagon and some horses? He was well paid as a deputy marshal. Perhaps they should invest some of that money.

  "Dieter, why don't you put your gear in the back of the buckboard and tie your pack horse to it. It's forty-five miles or so, a two-day trip to Suhl. That'll free your hands if it becomes necessary."

  Dieter did so. The packhorse was to be his spare. Both of the horses had been assigned to him with his transfer to Suhl. Everything he and Archie needed for the trip, until their wives arrived, was now carried in the wagon. He frankly stared at the footlockers and bags that Archie had loaded in the wagon.

  Archie, seeing Dieter's expression said, "One of those footlockers is full of ammo, .45 Long Colt for my Winchester '73 and my revolvers, and .45 ACP for my two Colt Commanders."

  "I brought .45 ACP and 12-gauge double-ought, too."

  "Good, I've some 12-gauge, too, a mixture of double-ought and slugs. Ammo weighs a lot. That's why I decided to take the buckboard---and I can haul enough fodder for all our horses. Grazing won't be all that good yet this time of year. Help me get this tarp over the bed and we'll be off."

  Archie made sure the tarp covered the wagon bed in such a way that it would drain rainwater before he climbed into the wagon. A thick pad covered the seat to provide more comfort than would just hard wood. The steel leaf springs under the seat creaked. The pad helped soften the ride but Archie wasn't going to complain. Marjorie had made it using an old foam rubber camp mattress.

  Once seated, he inserted the rifle against the front mudguard into a clip designed for that purpose next to his Winchester Model 1897 pump shotgun.

  "Let's get going." He released the brake and snapped the reins. The wagon started off down the street. Dieter kicked his heels, caught up with the wagon and rode along side.

  Marjorie watched the wagon and rider depart down the street toward Highway 250 and the road that would eventually take them to Suhl. She stood on the porch, watching, until the two turned the corner down the block and passed out of sight..

  She gave a sigh. She and Greta had work to do to move two households to Suhl. Time to get busy.

  ****

  Late April, 1634

  Suhl

  Archie and Dieter arrived in Suhl in mid-afternoon. The sky had gotten darker. They had been rained upon a few times during the trip. Both wore their oilskin dusters to help shed the light rain. The string of wagons they had joined continued on towards Franconia leaving them at the gate.

  After passing through the east gate, Dieter and Archie separated. Dieter proceeded to the inn where they would stay while Archie drove the wagon towards the saddler's shop.

  He guided the buckboard through the streets towards the shop of the saddlemaker, Johann Zeitts. Archie would leave the pinto with Zeitts to allow him to make sure the saddle would fit. The new saddle would cost about the equivalent of forty dollars and the old cowboy saddle, he guessed. We'll haggle some. Archie suspected that Johann would get the better side of the deal with a template for a new style saddle. I wonder if I could get a new saddle for Marjorie if I traded that old McClellan cavalry saddle?

  Johann Zeitts' shop was located in the southern edge of town. He had started life as a cobbler. In fact, his son, Hans, still worked as a cobbler in a corner of the shop. Johann had become a saddlemaker by accident. One of the leading members of the Suhl council wanted a new saddle, and Johann had made a bid for the job.

  He made saddles using techniques learned as a cobbler. His technique, using small brass nails and hand stitching, was new. Several competitors in the area were copying his methods, but Zeitts was more skilled. His business had grown and he was able to acquire a combination shop and home for his wife, married elder son Hans and younger son Christian.

  Hans Zeitts saw the wagon pull up in front of the shop and walked out to welcome Archie. His father wasn't present, he said. Hans led Archie with the wagon and horses through the gate into the fenced-in area behind the shop where a small stable was located. The stable had room for several horses, with three already present. Hans helped Archie stable and groom his pinto.

  "Your wagon and horse will be safe here while you meet with my father. My younger brother Christian normally takes care of the horses and the stable, but he's shoeing some horses at the moment. He's a farrier and journeyman blacksmith," Han explained.

  Johann arrived just as they finished with the horses. The elder Zeitts entered the front of the shop at the same moment Archie entered from the back, followed by Hans carrying the old saddle.

  "Wie Gehts, mein Herr! Guten Tag. I'm Marshal Archie Mitchell from Grantville."

  "Welcome, welcome, Herr Marshal Mitchell. I see you have arrived safely."

  Why would I have not arrived safely? There's been no outlaws anywhere near here, Archie thought. The comment surprised him. He was under the impression that Suhl was mostly quiet and peaceful after the late unpleasantness with the gunsmiths and the CoC the previous year.

  He dismissed the comment and followed Zeitts into the main workroom where Hans placed the old saddle on a wooden trestle that could be adjusted to meet the size of different horses. Johann lifted the stirrups, examined the leather fenders, skirt, cantle, and seat.

  "Hmmm," he muttered. He flipped the saddle upside down on a nearby table to see the saddle's wooden tree visible through holes in the rotten leather. Hans rubbed his chin and hummed again.

  "Ja! Now I see the differences. It is similar to some Spanish designs."

  "True," Archie agreed. "The design evolved from saddles used by Mexican vaqueros up-time and they had Spanish ancestors. It is a working design to allow a horseman to ride comfortably all day."

  "Do you want any embellishments? Any silver?"

  "No!" Archie chuckled, "I'm not rich. I just want a good working saddle …well, maybe a bit of leather tooling and embossing if it isn't too expensive."<
br />
  "Very well." Johann seemed a bit disappointed.

  "When could you give me an estimate for cost and delivery?"

  "Oh, yes, uhhh, tomorrow? Noon?"

  "Noon, it is. I'll be here. I've other business in Suhl, but I'll make a point of being here at noon or as close to it as I can."

  "Would you be available for dinner tonight, Herr Mitchell? Our quarters are above the shop, and I would like you to meet my wife and family."

  "Thank you! I would be grateful, Herr Zeitts, but I'm not alone. Deputy Marshal Issler is with me."

  "Bring him, too. We would like to have both of you. Besides, it does me honor to host the new marshal and his deputy."

  ****

  Archie drove his buckboard back into town to the Boar's Head Inn where Dieter waited. The State of Thuringia-Franconia had a contract with the innkeeper to house them and their horses and gear until permanent quarters could be found. The innkeeper was being exceedingly helpful. He wanted them to remain at the inn as long as he could keep them. The SoTF was paying half again his current rate. More coins in his pocket.

  Whoever had made the arrangements had requested a ground floor room in light of Archie's injury. When Archie arrived, the innkeeper led him and Dieter to an area in the back of the inn where three rooms had been reserved for them.

  It's a suite! Archie thought when he entered. The front room contained a desk, chairs, a table that could be used for conferences, a sideboard that appeared to be well stocked, and waist-high cabinets. A strong-room had been built out of a small windowless closet-like room off the main room for storage of their guns and ammo. It would also keep secure the funds that had been given to him for the purchase of the new courthouse and incidentals. Off the central room were two others made up as individual bedrooms. A door on one side of the central room led to the inn's bath, jakes, laundry, and an exit to the inn's stables in the rear. Someone had made an excellent choice in choosing this inn. He was surprised the innkeeper was so accommodating.

  The innkeeper appeared and asked for permission to take Archie's buckboard and horse to the rear stable. "My stableboy will feed and groom your horse, Herr Marshal Mitchell. It will be in the stall next to Herr Deputy Marshal Issler's horse."

  "Danke, Mein Herr. I appreciate your courtesy."

  The innkeeper left.

  "Nice place, Dieter," Archie said.

  "Ja. He bowed to me when I arrived. I almost thought he was going to add a von und zu to my name. I think he's glad to see us."

  "I got the same impression from Johann Zeitts. It makes me curious. Everyone is happy to see us. It makes me wonder why."

  "Perhaps I should wander around and listen to gossip? No one would think twice about me …at least for the next day or so, until I become known."

  "Start tomorrow …and dress like you live here." Dieter was dressed much like Archie: oilskin duster, Western-style boots, pants, shirt, leather vest, and a copy of Archie's Stetson hat—Archie's unofficial idea of a marshal's uniform. "Tonight, we have dinner invitations with Johann Zeitts and his family."

  ****

  It was dusk when Archie and Dieter arrived at the Zeitts' shop and home. Darkness came early this time of year. Johann welcomed them and introduced his wife Elizabeth, his son Hans and Hans' wife Lena and Johann's younger son Christian. Hans and Lena's two children were already in bed.

  Johann and Elizabeth's ages were betrayed by their white hair but both appeared to be quite fit. Hans and Lena were in their late twenties. Christian was several years younger and had the shoulders and grip of a blacksmith. Hans was slighter than his brother although his hand was as calloused as that of the elder and younger Zeitts.

  "Welcome to our home," said Elizabeth. "We are very happy that you accepted our invitation. Follow us, please."

  She led them upstairs to the family area. It was much larger than it appeared from outside. Johann and Elizabeth had a separate room for themselves. Christian had his room, as did Hans and Lena. The rest of the upper floor was for common use by the entire family.

  Dinner went well. Elizabeth and Lena had prepared a leg of mutton, roasted to a crisp, and a form of bread pudding for dessert. They had finished the dinner when, from the stables outside, they heard a scream from a horse. Everyone hurried downstairs, led by Hans and Christian who grabbed a lantern before leaving the shop. Hans saw two men in the stables with one of the horses. One had a knife in his hand.

  Christian outran his older brother and yelled at the two intruders. One ran out of the stable and into the darkness. The other, the one with the knife, was slower. Christian threw the lantern at him and it hit with an audible clonk! The man stumbled, and fell to his knees.

  Dieter arrived next and rolled the man over. A bloody dent in the man's temple from the heavy brass lantern was clearly visible.

  Christian ignored the other man who had disappeared in the darkness. He ran into the stable checking the horses.

  "He was trying to hamstring the horses!" he called, pointing to a slash on the leg of one of the Zeitts' horses. He soothed the shivering horse and examined the wound closely. "It's deep, but I don't think he cut the tendons."

  Dieter checked the other horses. "The rest appear to be all right. I don't see any wounds."

  Archie and Johann were the last to arrive. Hans picked up the lantern and relit it. He held the lantern closely to the face of the body. He, like Christian, was shocked. Christian clearly had not intended to kill the intruder, just stop him from hurting the horses.

  "You know him?" Archie asked.

  "No," replied Johann.

  "Nor I," added Hans.

  Christian walked over and looked closely. "He's one of Achen's men. I've seen him around."

  "Who is Achen?" Dieter asked.

  "He's …well …I…" Christian was hesitant to say more.

  "Friedrich Achen is …uh …a …he calls himself a businessman. He has, what he calls 'a private security firm.' You pay him a fee and he guards your home and business," Johann said.

  "If you don't, things happen," Christian added.

  "His men came around wanting me to sign up for their protection. I refused. That is what the watch is supposed to do." Johann said.

  "Except the watch is seldom seen after dark," said Hans.

  "It isn't seen much during the day, either," Christian added.

  Archie nodded. It was the old protection racket. He hadn't expected to see it here, in this time, but there was no reason why it shouldn't have occurred to someone.

  "Did you report it?" Dieter asked.

  "No. Why? It isn't illegal," Johann replied.

  "It is if it includes intimidation and extortion."

  "What do we do with the body until the watch comes?" Archie asked.

  "Leave him there," Christian said. "The watch will show up eventually."

  "Okay. Be sure it's reported in the morning if they don't come tonight."

  ****

  Dieter Issler rose early the next morning. The sky was still gray. It was that time of morning just before dawn. He dressed as a down-timer, hiding his pistol inside his knee-length coat. His wide-brimmed hat would not draw attention. His boots were of up-time design but were unlikely to draw attention.

  He left the inn and headed toward the riverside gate. That gate was not the one they had passed through yesterday. He was curious if it was manned at this time of the morning. Some cities in the SoTF had become complacent and failed to keep their gates well-guarded. As he walked, he kept an eye out for anyone about to dump their night soil. He didn't want to get splashed.

  ****

  Archie, having finished an early breakfast, had one of his Colt Commander pistols disassembled on a large cloth on the table when the innkeeper announced a visitor. "Herr Marshal, Bürgermeister Feld would like to see you."

  "Send him in," Archie said rising to greet the burgermeister.

  "Guten Tag, Herr Marshal."

  "And to you, too. I'm glad to see you. I had planned to see y
ou later this morning but now will do. Please sit and please excuse the mess. I like to clean my weapons after they've gotten wet. It rained often on the way here."

  Feld glanced at the pieces of the pistol, a collection of small, finely engineered pieces of a Model 1911 pistol, one of Archie's Colt Commanders, laid out neatly on the thick cloth. "Ruben Blumroder would like to get his hands on that."

  "Ruben Blumroder?"

  "He is the …not the guildmaster because there is no guild as such here. He's the leader of the Suhl gunsmiths. He's also our representative to the new legislature. He's quite influential."

  "I wouldn't object if he wanted to examine it. The pistol is easy to copy, the springs aside. It's the ammunition that is difficult. How did you know I was here?"

  "Word gets around. The militia guard on the east gate sent word that you had arrived. A message from Grantville said you were coming. We didn't know when."

  "Well, it isn't any secret. My deputy and I are here to secure a site for the new SoTF district court."

  "Court?"

  "Yes. It will provide justice and legal services for the district—administer SoTF law. The judges will report directly to Judge Riddle, the chief justice of the SoTF Supreme Court." Archie removed an envelope, wax-sealed with Riddle's official court seal, from his saddle bag on the floor.. "I have a letter for you and for the city council."

  Feld took the envelope. It was addressed to him and to the Suhl council. He weighed it in his hand. It was impressive. The envelope was heavy paper. Up-time, perhaps. He looked up to see Archie watching him.

  "Should I open it now?" he asked hesitantly.

  "If you wish …as soon as you sign this receipt," Archie replied extending a form letter and pen to Feld.

  Feld looked at the receipt form as if it were a serpent. After a silent moment, he reached for the form and signed it with Archie's pen.

  "Thank you, Herr Bürgermeister. I've already given you a quick review of its contents," Archie said, nodding toward the envelope in Feld's hand.

  "I suppose our …difficulty last year is why the court is being established here."