The Southampton Chronicle

The Grand Adventure Begins. Gregory knew they hunted him, but did they have the horses to see it through? He doubted it, but soon the answer would be known. He neared the brink of completing a mournful poem that had bedeviled him for a fortnight. And once done, he would again ride out and give test to their mettle. Gregory gazed into the raftered reaches of the hall and thought of home. An autumn gust rattled the shutters, candles flickered, and somewhere out there, they waited. He lit a stub of Frankincense, dipped his quill into the inkwell, and hunched over the golden sheet of parchment.