Later that evening, Banyard sat in the once-fine chair of the Governor’s study. He had been given the ‘privelage’ of staying in the abandoned manor by the chief of the village. He assumed they had said privelage but after what he had seen that afternoon made him wonder.

What made the governor and his family flee this place? Was it something to do with that skull?

He poored himself a lavish portion of port, ignoring the watermarks and dust on the crystal glass. A greedy slurp and poor judgement let a dribble of the warm liquid run down his jowls and stain his crisp white shirt. He cursed the discusting people he had to endure, sitting in their huts, ignorant of the civilised ways of England. How he missed the cobbled streets, the normality, the pronounciation for gods sake! But no, he was stuck attempting to educate these savages. Why had the Lord let him travel this path?

And then it came to him… to discover the truth.