The hour is late and the candle on my desk has burned low. Though I am weary beyond measure, I cannot rest until I have begun this new journal with at least something of what has befallen me in the past months.

I should say that every step you have taken with me so far has been re-written from memory, as my original journal was lost. Now I will begin this second volume, the very one you now hold, with the start of my ill-fated journey homewards, and how my first journal met its demise.

For now, sleep must triumph. Safely back in my familiar Keep. The quill and I will save our next dance for tomorrow...

***

When we reached the port for our return we sold our horses and found a suitable inn. Having to wait but one day for the Captain's return down the coast, we felt fortunate that our return would be so swift.

Had we but known what woe lay in store for us.

The Captain had cast a worried eye to ...

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