It was the year of our Lord 1595. Tara McGill’s day had started out as a beautiful, a clear blue sky with puffy white clouds floating over the rolling emerald hills that stretched to the low mountains in Ireland, Then, two of Tara’s friends made a bet with her, a wager that her father would most certainly not approve.

William Baird had enjoyed the fresh ocean air during the voyage and had almost acquired a good set of “sea legs” by the time the boat had sailed into Coleraine Bay from Scotland. He was happy to set foot on dry land once again, and even happier when his horse Brady was led from the supply boat that had accompanied the passenger vessel on which he'd traveled. However, with a glance to the skies, William could tell that a storm was forming on the new horizon.

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