Sir Richard Grenville, the Commander of the vessel, stood on deck with a proud smile on his face. "Hear ye, hear ye. Good day, ladies and gentlemen. It is my great honor to officially present, almost officially," he laughed nervously. "SirJohn White, thy Governor of this colony and our settlement in the new world."

Polite applause and a few cheers echo about the ship. The Commander continued in the background but Margaret could no longer focus on his words. The early morning July sun, warmly beat down the eager bodies standing in its light. Neither hats nor bonnets could protect their faces and necks from the heated rose and orangy kisses. The golden glow glistened on the dark wooden floor slats and it was beautiful to see.

She watched Governor White, tall and proud, patiently waiting for the commander to finish introducing him. His snow and coal peppered beard; full and unkempt, framed half of his long face. The lines at the corner of his eyes and the dark circles resting under his small, blue eyes clearly displayed signs of tiredness. His smile barely lifted the corners of his mouth.

They hadn't seen much of him in the last two months, he'd been keeping to himself. Margaret wasn't sure why until she heard him speaking to a few of the men on board a few weeks before about how he feared another failure like the one he and his men had back in May of 1577. She wasn't aware of a prior expedition, nor the main purpose of that voyage but she learned there were two main reasons. To search for riches and find an easier way to get to America yet they neither discovered a northwest passage nor precious metals. Luckily for them, the disappointment had not kept him from attempting the journey with new settlers, once more.

Margaret smiled to herself. This voyage and being part of the colony was a blessing and a dream come true for her. Especially after the nightmare that had been her late husband. There were many hardships she suffered on that ship but none compared to her dreadful marriage. Filth, famine, and being ill to the point she'd tossed the small amount of food she'd consumed leaving nothing left inside of her but her guts, and her spirit. 

The evening she cried for her mother's bosom, had been her breaking-point, but alas, there was land on the horizon. Before late afternoon yesterday, everyone including herself understood if they didn't get to America, they would perish. But the anticipation was back in the air. The excitement. They were so close, Margaret could almost smell the trees and feel the sand between her toes.

"Good day, Margaret."

Like herself, Victoria seemed in good spirits. Her hair was up in a braided bun and the brown cape she wore covered most of the navy-blue dress she was wearing. Cristopher stood by her side and smiled the same gentle smile as the day before and tipped his black hat back at Margaret. He looked handsome in the formal black attire and white stockings.

Margaret grinned. "Victoria, Cristopher," she curtseyed and slightly tipped her head in a nod.

"How are Cecily's spirits this morning?" Victoria whispered getting closer to her ear.

"The fever is gone and she is awake. Still weak but fully aware and vocalizing some. Thank ye for asking," Margaret said breathily.

"Surely."

"Without further ado, Governor, John White." The Commander patted the governor on the back then stepped aside.

The one-hundred and eighteen survivors politely clapped in admiration. That's how many of them were left after they departed England, a faint image at the back of her head. However, the home she grew up in, was clear in her mind. She pictured the large bushes covered with white, aromatic gardenias, at each side of the entry door of her parent's estate. A smell she would remember until her death. Of that, she was sure of.

"As ye all know, I voyaged here not long ago attempting to settle with an earlier colony. By God's plan, I wasn't able to accomplish this, however, I am a tenacious man and here I am again full of hope and merriment," White cleared his throat. "There are dangers inland and these are genuine threats. You must be polite but not congregate with the savages on these foreign lands. We must protect our women and children firstly and we shall approach them cautiously. We have run out of nourishment and shall ask for their help initially on how to gather and hunt for fish and meat as we have lost everything we brought with us." 

Murmured complaints and concerns bounced from the men's and women's lips.

"Silence please," the Commander said looking regal even after the storm they endured just a few days before.

"We must. We won't have shelter until ours is built. Also, we shall encounter two groups of native tribes; Secotan and Roanoke. Do not approach them, our soldiers will handle all and any interactions with their chiefs."

Margaret's skin crawled and her heart raced. She had given little to no consideration to the natives before that morning. The thought of escaping her life; a priority at the time, had overwhelmed her. She hadn't given much care to any of it. The seasickness, starvation, the natives ... Dying. And yet, in her weakest moment, she had asked for her mother. The very souls she was running away from.

As land became a closer reality, it grew less appealing. With elbows on the veranda and the wind blowing her hair out of the tight looped braids at each side of her head, she stood alone, open-eyed and terrified.

What if Cecily had died? I'd be all alone in a new world. A shiver traveled her body.

~O~

It took one full day to arrive and eternal hours ticked, by the time they dropped anchor and untied the smaller boats to reach the shore. Cecily and Margaret patiently awaited to be helped into one of the vessels.

"I wish you didn't have to carry me," Cecily said. Margaret's heart sunk. Cecily didn't sound like herself. Her soft voice cracked with weakness. She was much too fragile to walk herself and she was still going in and out of consciousness.

The boat rocked and a few of the men held the women by the hand as they stepped in. Margaret's throat closed and she couldn't swallow. A few of the crafts had reached the shore before them and she could see there weren't any natives waiting for them ashore. She released a small sigh of relief, closed her eyes, and prayed until they arrived at the beach.

Dropping on her hands and knees, Margaret crawled and grabbed at the wet sand bunching it tightly between her fingers making tight fists. Tears rolled down her cheeks and although terribly freighted, the young girl was relived she was one of the few who had made it to the island alive. Clawing up the heavy damp sand, she turned to sit and watched the gentlemen as they carried her friend out of the small, wooden boat and with difficulty, walked over towards her.  The waves crashed at their legs tumbling their bodies from side to side as if they were drunkards.

The right corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile.

"Misstress?" He asked whilst adjusting his hands so he wouldn't drop the carrier holding Cecily.

Anxiously, she looked into the man's eyes, "Are we in Virginia?"

Simultaneously both men shook their heads and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm ready." She stood on wobbly legs and her brain somersaulted inside her head. She felt nauseous. Margaret's stomach churned making strange noises she was sure, no one else could hear. Side glancing at her friend, the redhead realized Cecily slept once more. "Lead the way, Sirs," forcing a smile she curtsied.

For a long while, the group walked the rocky terrain in silence before they confronted the first few savages. They were a group of dark-skinned men with long cobalt hair and naked torsos. The gentlemen who had arrived with her walked before her carrying arms, supplies, and wood to build the fort they would use as shelter.

When she reached the rest of the tribe, she gulped nervously. Governor White already stood next to the Secotan Chief.

"His name is Wingina," Victoria whispered when she reached her side.

Margaret jumped out of her skin but eyed them for a while. 

"How do thine figure?"

Victoria shrugged, "My husband."

Based on the Governor's body movements, to her, it looked like they spoke about trading items for food and shelter. She watched the exchange of words and gestures between them. The chief studied one of their pistols. It was obvious to her he wanted some of the firearms they carried. 

The more the chief persisted, the sterner Governor White's face looked. Mistress Dare; Governor's White daughter sat not far away from them and her husband stood close keeping a heavy eye on his father-in-law.

"What do though think they're conversing about?"

Victoria puffed out air. "A treaty perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

With a keen eye, Margaret looked around for Mistress Smart but she had not yet arrived.  Instead, she encountered semi-naked savages with dark, beady eyes that bore into her. They made her feel unclothed and sinful. Swallowing nervously Margaret looked away but they were all around her. She was overwhelmed. 

Plump brown breasts to the right of her, bare torsos to the left, she'd never witnessed anything like it. Her face grew hot, she wanted to believe it was perhaps the afternoon sun. The girl concluded with a shake of the head she was prepared for them less than she'd been prepared for the journey itself.

Maybe it is I who is wearing too many clothes.

Her arms itched. The long sleeves of her white dress held sand and her skirt; still damp and heavy, dragged her slim body down. Her legs ached and once more, it was impossible for her not to think about her mother and the comforts of her English home.

"Thou art in for a surprise my dear friend," she whispered. "There are naked men and women all around."

She grabbed Cecily's hand. Even in her fragile state, Margaret felt her friend comfort her. She could imagine what Cecily would say once she awoke and saw them, let them be Margaret. Who are we to judge? We have our ways and they have theirs. It was always easier for Cecily. She'd grown up motherless but with a wonderful caring father who treated her like a son, unlike her father.

She was not a proper teacher but a life of wealth had blessed her with a vast education good enough to teach the children who had come with them on their journey and the ones to be born in the foreign land.

Soon the rest of the colony arrived and gathered around her. She was too exhausted to look for anyone else at that point. When the men finally shook hands they exchanged goods. The men started working on the shelter and the women instinctively prepared for supper.

"Before ye continue with thy chores, you will know we will settle here until morning. Tonight we rest and the men will take rounds, alert to any danger," White informed them.

"Thou shall stay with your friend." Margaret felt Mistress Smart's hand at her shoulder. "Will thy tend to my Thomas?"

Grateful for the rest, Margaret nodded, "Where are we Mistress? Is this Chesapeake Bay?"

"We did not make it to the mainland. We shall stay here."

"Where is here?" she insisted.

"We are not too sure. We think this might be the Island of Roanoke."