15: ORLAN MARCANO

The train service to the city was faster and more comfortable than the trip south to Philadelphia. It had been a few years since they had been in New York, and it seemed much bigger and louder. They noticed outside the train station that there were men poorly dressed, not quite beggars, as these men were active. However, their activity was to aimlessly walk about wearing placards stating things such as “The End is Nigh” or “Repent,” or the one that caught Jonathan’s eye: “Unnatural men and demons are walking among us.”

Jonathan reached into his pocket purse and gave the man two fifty-cent coins—perhaps more money than the man had seen in weeks. 

After twelve days at sea, not the ten days they had expected, they disembarked in Portsmouth. It was not an easy crossing, as the spring weather made the seas rougher than anticipated.

They went ashore to spend one night together before Evelyn took a train to her father’s estate, and Jonathan crossed the channel for a longer ride from Brussels to Ljubljana, where he would take a short overland carriage to Trieste and then a ship to Constantinople.   

“Father, I missed you so much. I love you, and I am so grief-stricken that I was not here for Mother’s passing. I hope that you will forgive me. It has been too many years.” Hugging her father, she could feel that the years had taken away much of his vigour and strength. She was shocked at how much he had aged in the last few years.

“My dearest daughter, I love you and have missed you so, but I have been told that the circumstances that have kept us apart have been unusual. I know that, but I do not understand any of it. My eyes may be fading, but my mind is as sharp as ever, so I believe you look as young as you did the day you married your beloved.”

“Yes, Jonathan sends his love and regrets. He would have loved to see you, but it seems his duty calls.”

“Your letter said that he was off to see the Ottomans again. He does have quite a connection to those people, and after all these years and living in America, he finds himself still in the employ of the Crown. Strange, yes, strange indeed.”

After a short rest to refresh herself, she joined her father for a late supper.

“Father, what do you know about Jonathan and who and what he is? In truth, there are no secrets between him and me. I know of your meeting with him at the Church of Magnus the Martyr, and you know well of our fateful trip to Dublin and the Stokers. So, what do you know of Jonathan.”

“I only know what the man has presented himself to be. A traveller, a merchant, somewhat of a diplomat, and the man who saved my daughter’s life in some manner and stole her and carried her off to the Americas.”

“Do you know much of his diplomatic ability and past?”

Harwood hesitantly raised one hand to touch the O.T.I.D. pin on his lapel.

“Yes, Father, I know of the O.T.I.D., and I understand to a degree what it is and how it works, and that my husband is a member of that group and the group which it assists,”

“He is a Devi! The man is a Devi, and I had no idea. I do not understand exactly what or who they are, but I would have encouraged your marriage to him sooner.”

Evelyn was taken aback. “Father, I beg your pardon. Encourage our marriage sooner? What do you mean?”

“When I was in the House, I had hoped you would marry a man of note and stature. I was a bit dismissive and wary of you marrying a merchant. But I had no idea he was a Devi.”

Evelyn turned a brilliant shade of red and was on the verge of throwing something across the room or at her father. Until Sir Chester added, “I knew he was a good man and would be a good husband to you. It was only my vanity and my delusions of being able to control your life. You are a strong and independent woman. You are and always be my little daughter, but you are an adult and woman, and I am a selfish old man.”

“No, Father, you are not a selfish old man; you only wanted the best for me, and that is the best thing a father can want for his daughter.”

 Harwood reached across the table and said, ‘I am sorry I said that, and I will love you forever.”

“I love you too, father.”

Throughout the evening, Evelyn relayed the events in Ireland to her father, downplaying the severity of her injuries and points about her ‘recovery’ in Wicklow. She briefly mentioned meeting a woman in Paris with an active lineage of European royalty back before Charlemagne.

Her father was very interested in the issue of the continuance of barbaric slavery in America and very much enjoyed the stories of both their involvement in the Underground Railway in their efforts to assist runaway slaves to become freemen. He commended her if she had helped one person achieve freedom; it was more in the eyes of God than all he had done with his life.

“Evelyn, if I may ask, what can you tell me of the Devi? I hope Jonathan would not mind or that he will allow you to speak of them.”

Evelyn felt a bit rankled at her father’s use of ‘allow,’ but she understood from where her father spoke.

“To be concise and to the point, the Devi are an old organization that, many years ago, thought it best always to have communications between various crowns and thrones as well as empires and kingdoms. Within the last one hundred years, during the campaigns of Napoleon. They ensured good conduct between Russia, the Austrians, the Spanish, the French and ourselves. As well as during the Seven Years' War or the so-called French-Indian Wars in America. Dialogue was maintained between Paris and London. Even when the American colonies rebelled against us, the Devi helped negotiate and resolve the troubles.

There is the French term ‘eminence grise,’ or Grey Eminence; we call it the ‘power behind the throne.’ Perhaps not power, but a robust set of advisors and councils operating secretly and unofficially.”

“You have done well, my daughter; I always knew you would be special.”

Later, the conversation turned to reminiscences, life in London and her mother.

Over the next several weeks, Evelyn lived like a queen on the Estate, doing as she pleased. She enjoyed the mid-winter air and the silence. She felt like herself, even going to the point of ignoring Jonathan’s advice to not go to London. She did heed his warning about frequenting the same shops and areas she had years ago.

Although Jonathan was always foremost in her mind, at times, almost forgetting that she was a very different person from who she was the last time she was on the estate. After a while, she realized why she was so free and happy and felt so liberated: no people around her, no seething masses overwhelming her senses. And she realized that concerning her senses, with her sight, hearing, and sense of smell all being heightened, life in the country was raising her response to a level of almost religious ecstasy.

Jonathan departed Portsmouth to travel by rail coach for six hours to Folkestone, leaving England for France. The channel crossing was surprisingly calm for the winter conditions.

In Folkestone, he joined the South East Railways boat train service to Boulogne-Sur-Mer and continued to Paris. Then, he would travel south to Lyon and Turin in Italy and finally through Venice, Austria, to Trieste.

 

In the dining carriage, south of Lyon, perhaps halfway to the Italian frontier, he thought he heard a familiar voice; as he turned, he was greeted by the sight of his older former travelling companion, Orlan Marcano.

 

The Spaniard grabbed him with both arms and hugged him, almost lifting him off his feet. “I do not believe I have seen you since Havana, except for that brief encounter thirty years later in Tripoli. That was indeed a close call. We did not know the Barbary pirates were that good with cannon shots. It was a good thing I was there to save you.”

“Indeed, that was close, but we have always had luck, and I believe I cut your binding to set you free outside of that camp.”

The Spaniard waved to the steward and ordered a bottle of wine. “Let us not quibble over details. Dare I guess why you are on this train? Prince Alexander Sergeyevich Menshikov?”

“Yes, we have a notice that the Czar is sending him to meet and make demands with the Ottomans. Demands that are unfit to the needs of Her Majesty at this time. As well as the ambitions of this new Emperor, Napoleon III, and his proclaimed Second French Empire. My life seems always to be a literal crossing of swords with some little Kremlin toad.”

“It was Alexander the I who caused you grief with Napoleon. He was a bit of an unkempt Czar. This new Czar, Nicholas I, seems much more reasonable and may be able to keep the peace in the Balkans.”

Jonathan looked at the glass of wine before him. “This wine is red, like the blood I saw on the battlefield against the Russians. I hope it is not a harbinger of what is to come. And another point of melancholy, I fear that there will never be peace in the Balkans.”

“Enough talk of war and death. Jonathan, what did you need to leave London with such a dispatch? Do not get me wrong, I enjoy the trappings and social life of a gold exchange merchant, but to leave in such a hurry, why?”

“Love. I left for love.”

“So, Jonathan, you are a fool. Our kind cannot truly love in the way others do. We should not love. For those we love are always left behind; they grow old and die, and we move on.

“Not this time, my friend. My beloved is one of us. In a moment of tragedy, I turned my wife, and she is one of us.”

“What indeed. What have you done? Does the Authentic know of this? What am I saying? The Authentic knows everything. Did she banish you to the Americas? Is that why you left London?”

“Oh, no, my friend, that is not the course that events have followed. Evelyn had an event in Ireland. I acted in haste, and the Authentic summoned us.”

“You met with the Authentic, and what, did she also meet with this woman, your wife?”

“Yes, in her apartment for a few days in the autumn of that year. It was all very unusual, but then with the Authentic, what is normal or natural?”

“That cannot be true. There are rules; there are protocols for her. The Authentic has never met with any Devi under one hundred. You are jesting with me?

“No, Orlan, I speak the truth, as the truth of our bond. We met, and dare I say, we even laughed and shared a simple meal. I was surprised by what the Authentic said about protocol, but enough was said about that. The Authentic told Evelyn that she saw and felt something special about her and did not even know what that meant. And that was pleasing to Evelyn, but to me, it was unsettling. As you say, the Authentic knows everything.”

“Jonathan, I must meet this woman of yours. And maybe I should ask. Does she have a sister?”

After hours of talking and boasting of personal exploits, they retired to their berths for the evening, only stopping at the Austrian border. The guards were thorough, checking all the travellers' passports with names on lists they carried. They removed three individuals and a family of four from the train; the family's father attempted to protest, and the guards had little issue with removing the man with force.

When inspecting St Croix’s and Marcano’s papers, they appeared flustered and called their captain to look at their documents. He looked at them, handed them their papers, and apologized for any inconvenience or delay.

Marcano looked at Jonathan. “I believe that the Ottomans and the Hapsburgs have made concessions towards one another and that the Sultan will welcome us and our assistance?”

“We have always served their interests, and they, ours.”

The train steward and porters ensured that both men received the highest meticulous service standards for the rest of the trip to Trieste.

Once onboard the ship at Trieste, they would travel almost 1,200 miles to their destination, although on a globe, the distance was only three-quarters that of the land route, which would take three times the time.

The smaller ships they were on would have better speed, but they would call in ports more often, from Trieste to Pula, Split, Durres, Korfu, Corinth, and finally, Athens. Then, a long dash across the treacherous Aegean to Bozcaada, Canakkale, Gelibolu, Marmara, and finally, their destination. It sounded like a list of cities visited by St Paul, but between the two men, they had visited most of them with their travels.