Echoes of Blood and Spell | A covenant among the unliving Part 2

Previously: A covenant among the unliving

Securing passage to London had demanded no small measure of persuasion and an even greater expenditure of coin, but Alexander scarcely minded. He possessed wealth enough to silence any objection. His fortune—considerable by any standard—had been amassed through a series of art transactions conducted with patience, discretion, and no little audacity.

In the aftermath of the crushed Jacobite rebellion, many stately houses and the former seats of clan chiefs had stood abandoned, their halls stripped of life and protection alike. Alexander had taken advantage of the moment. He searched those empty residences for objects of value—paintings, relics, finely wrought furnishings—which he later sold on the open market. He took no pride in this work, yet he told himself it was preferable to allowing such treasures to pass into English hands, scattered and forgotten.

With the proceeds, he invested wisely. Profitable ventures soon yielded a steady and generous income, enough to secure him a life of quiet comfort. He held silent partnerships in two substantial trading companies, and the dividends alone would have sufficed to sustain him indefinitely. That he was also a formidable negotiator only sharpened his advantage.

They had been at sea for weeks now. The captain had warned of a crossing that might last as long as twelve weeks, but the winds had proved merciful. After a little more than eight weeks, London lay less than two days ahead. Alexander fancied he could already catch the scent of home upon the air, faint yet unmistakable. The thought filled him with a restless joy. He was returning at last—back to the soil of Britain, though only in Scotland did he ever feel truly at ease.

The long passage had afforded him and Romain ample time to grow acquainted. Trust had come slowly at first, then all at once. They spoke openly, without reserve, laying bare their pasts and the purposes that drove them forward. Alexander knew Romain would prove invaluable in his own search, and in turn he was resolved to aid Romain in his.

He looked up as Romain emerged from the hold and climbed onto the deck, striding toward him. Alexander smiled. To many aboard, Romain appeared a brute—his size and bearing inspired unease, even fear—but Alexander had discovered a different man beneath that formidable exterior: thoughtful, earnest, and warm of heart.

They had passed countless hours in conversation—on life, on magic, on the unseen world that lingered beyond ordinary perception. Alexander remained cautious, particularly where communion with the dead was concerned, yet Romain’s sincerity and the weight of his story had softened his skepticism. What he once dismissed as superstition, he now regarded with guarded curiosity.

“Only a few days more,” Alexander said as Romain joined him at the railing. “We’ll be there soon. The climate will be harsher—colder than what you’re used to. I hope the change will not trouble you too much.”