On the way to America, aboard one of three ships that would land at Jamestown, one passenger seemed to grate on the rest like a splintered oar. He was a stocky, sawed-off stub of a man; a seasoned war fighter with a valiant past he seldom tired of highlighting; an unconscionable braggart of modest means who resented the blue bloods among the group; a bigmouthed know-it-all with a sanctimonious air and little or no regard for decorum. His name was John Smith.
In time he would save the expedition from extinction. First, though, he would be imprisoned by his fellow adventurers,...
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