"...You get used to it." And you get thirsty. Even now, once the powder was brushed from his hands and the ball pocketed for a later rewrapping, he dragged his canteen from his hip. He drank deep. "There's fancy guns what just have the bullets. Easier to load; I've seen'em. Modern things. But it ain't easy to get their ammunition -- the Malnosso ain't keen on handing it out."

Sharpe's way? Ah, well. He could make his own with a little help from the smithy. He sometimes wondered if he wasn't the best stocked gunner in the whole village on account of his backwards ways.