Home From The Sea: The Elemental Masters, Book Seven (20 page)

Not only had he supplied
both
of them with the sort of umbrella
that
Sitt Hakim
had wielded, he had provided them with a stout escort in the form of a young fellow with the burly shoulders of a footballer and the watchful eye of a suspicious older brother. He was associated in some way with Lord Alderscroft’s club and was a member of the White Lodge; he’d meet them at Victoria and see them as far as the change to the Cambrian Railway, where he would go on to Torquay where he had some business. Nan didn’t particularly think they would need an escort, but his presence seemed to make Sahib feel more at ease, so she hadn’t objected.

The trip into London was one they had made many times, so there was nothing particularly stressful about it. The sun was just high enough to see when they arrived. Victoria Station, with its glass-and-iron roof that seemed to stretch on for half a mile, was its usual confusing self, but with the two porters assigned
just
to get their baggage out to the waiting vehicle, Nan and Sarah, hats firmly on their heads, umbrellas firmly in right hands, and bird-carriers in the left, threaded their way to the front of the station and the ranks of waiting cabs, both horse-cabs and a few rare automobile-cabs. There the young man—Andrew Talbot—met them and guided them to the hired vehicle, which to Nan’s relief was not one of the automobiles. It was not that she distrusted the things so much as she didn’t want the birds subjected to the noise and smoke they seemed to produce.

The porters followed and loaded on the baggage, and they were off.

“Well, this is much more convenient than what we usually do,” Nan remarked to Andrew.

“Omnibus?” he hazarded. She nodded. “Well, I had to reject the first one that turned up,” he said, with a grimace. “I didn’t like the look of the horses. Mistreated.” He shuddered a little. “Be glad to get out of the city. Hate this place. Makes me sick, and if the Old Lion hadn’t called me in for a spot of business, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Ah, Earth Master then?” Sarah said, sympathetically.

“Not Master, but Adept. Need to gather up an apprentice the Old Lion wants me to teach, then it’s back to the ’varsity. Old Lion’s sponsoring us both through Cambridge.” He smiled a little at that.

“What, not Oxford?” Sarah said in surprise. He laughed.

“I’d have gone, but father wouldn’t hear of it. A Cambridge man he is, and the idea of a son of his going up to Oxford made him turn puce.” He and Sarah had a good laugh at that; Nan just mentally shrugged. Since neither she nor Sarah were ever likely to see the inside of
either
university, it didn’t matter to her.

The timing of their arrival seemed to coincide with slightly lighter traffic on the streets; their vehicle arrived at Paddington well before their train was due to depart. And already, Nan sensed a difference. Victoria was in the heart of London; Paddington, where the Northern and Western lines began, was very near to the country. Their escort felt it, too; his shoulders, which had been a little hunched, as if he felt the need of self-defense, relaxed—and his expression eased.

If Victoria’s glass-and-iron roof had been impressive, Paddington’s was more so. And with plenty of time to get to their train, with unspoken consent, they took their time looking about. “I don’t much like buildings,” Andrew said, finally, “but this is like a cathedral of steam.”

That, Nan thought, was a very good way of putting things. The roof was more open here, and there was plenty of light. The great engines sighed and hissed and huffed at their places, like enormous living things, their carriages arrayed behind them, gleaming with brass and polish. Paddington was large enough that despite having all the trains here, it didn’t seem crowded.

Their train was waiting at its appointed place, and Lord Alderscroft’s cachet worked the usual magic of convenience. Although most people wouldn’t be allowed to board this early, those in the private compartments were. Andrew left them briefly to make sure their luggage got stowed safely, then returned to them.

They had plenty of leisure to get settled before the majority of the passengers descended, in a great hurry to get themselves aboard. There were four compartments in the first class carriages, each with its own private entrance. It was certainly a far cry from the coaches Nan and Sarah had traveled in until now. It had been
fitted up as nicely as a little parlor, with lovely soft armchairs, a round wooden table, curtains at the windows, oil lamps and even a stove—cold now, of course, but it would certainly make things more pleasant in the winter. On the side opposite to the exterior entrance was one into a corridor, which would give the stewards and the conductor access to them, and which they could use to get to the rest of the train.

Sarah and Nan put their cases down at their feet and got comfortable in the plush-covered armchairs.

“Out?” Grey called—definitely a question.

“Not until we’re well on the way,” Sarah told her. Andrew had started a little at the sound of a human-sounding voice from the leather case.

Neville made a rude noise. “I know you don’t like it,” Nan told him. “But you have to admit it is much superior to a hatbox.”

“Can’t see,” he croaked.

“And you couldn’t in a hatbox, either,” she pointed out. But she did lean over and pull open the flaps on the side, buckling them on the top of the case like the earflaps on a deerstalker hat. Sarah did the same for Grey.

“What’s more,” she continued, “If we’d been traveling by third-class carriage, you wouldn’t be let out at all.”

Andrew grinned sheepishly. “And I was under the impression that you traveled like this for the Old Lion all the time.” He ran his finger under his collar in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. “This is several cuts above how I am used to traveling.”

“You mean to say that you aren’t to the manor born?” Nan teased. “What a disappointment! I was getting ready to set my cap at you.” She switched to her lowest gutter-Cockney. “Oi! An’ ’ere oi was, all ready t’ nobble a dook!”

Andrew looked startled again. “My word! Miss Nan, you should be an actress!”

“So I’ve been told. But Memsa’b would have palpitations if I even suggested it.” Nan did not tell him that Cockney was, more or less, her “native tongue.”

“Those are remarkable birds. Lord Alderscroft told me that they were as intelligent as people, but I must confess that I thought he was exaggerating.” Andrew didn’t bend down to peer at the carriers, which would scarcely be polite, but he did crane his neck a bit to try and see Neville and Grey behind the mesh.

“I can talk; can you fly?” Grey asked, which seemed to be the birds’ favorite phrase for greeting doubters of late.

“Not as yet,” Andrew told her. She laughed.

“And how on earth did you manage to get a raven?” he asked Nan.

“It would be far more accurate to say he got me,” she replied, and described to him the childhood visit to the Tower of London where Neville decided that Nan was going to be
his
, regardless of what anyone else might say, and the machinations of the Master of Ravens to accommodate that desire.

Andrew shook his head. “I hope he didn’t get into any trouble over it.”

“Sahib made certain he hadn’t,” Nan replied, as people began to stream toward their train, and the sound of carriage doors opening and banging closed was added to the sound of the engine gradually building up steam. She shrugged. “But after all, he is the Master of Ravens; he doesn’t really have to answer to anyone if one of them chooses to fly off. He only has to keep them from being teased or hurt or stolen at the Tower.”

“I suppose that’s true enough.” He turned to Sarah. “And how—”

The conductor interrupted them at that point—politely tapping on their door before opening it, and waiting deferentially for them to produce their tickets. This was certainly different treatment than Nan had gotten in the third-class carriage. The conductor appeared a bit startled when Nan and Sarah produced their own instead of Andrew giving all three sets, but he clearly wasn’t going to say anything.

It was clear now that the train was about to pull out of the station. Conductors were calling “All aboard,” and people were running past their window, hoping to get on before the train left.

Finally the last of the doors slammed, the last whistles sounded, the train blew its own whistle, and they were off.

Paddington Station really was on the edge of London. Within moments, they were traveling through real countryside, slowly gathering speed.

“Out!”
shouted Grey, followed by an equally insistent
“Now!”
from Neville.

Not wanting to risk a show of temper, the two girls unfastened the doors of the carriers. Lurching a little with the movement of the train, the birds stalked out to be lifted up by their respective partners. Andrew eyed Neville with a faint air of alarm.

“I’ve never seen a raven this close,” he admitted uneasily. “That is a very… formidable… beak.”

Neville cocked his head and gave Andrew a wicked look. “The better to bite you, my dear,” said Grey sweetly.

Both girls laughed. Nan took a newspaper out of her portmanteau and spread it on the carpet, holding Neville over it. The result that plummeted to the paper made Andrew’s eyes widen. Grey’s deposit was a little daintier. “That was probably why they wanted out,” Nan explained, as Sarah put Grey briefly on the back of her chair and folded up the paper around its contents.

Neville gave
her
a look, this time of affronted dignity. “Want to see,” he croaked in complaint. And to underscore his statement, he jumped to the back of the chair and turned his back on them, pointedly looking out the window.

“What would you have done in third class?” Andrew could not help asking.

“Take him with me to the ladies’ WC and let him deal with it there,” Nan said, without a blush. That was all right, Andrew blushed for her, as she had pretty much expected he would.

The poor fellow really didn’t quite know how to react to them. But in Nan’s estimation, that was all to the good. It meant he was less likely to try and stop them if they did something unladylike.

Since she had no intention of changing her behavior, that was entirely likely. She and Sarah were going to have to watch what they did quite carefully once they were on their own—at least,
insofar as when they were likely to be observed—so she was going to make the most of this freedom.

The countryside sped by. This was not an express, which meant that they stopped at virtually every station. At least the level of comfort made this a great deal less onerous than it could have been. A steward appeared, bearing tea, and did not even blink at the birds. “If you would care for a late breakfast, the dining car is available to you or I can bring you a repast. I also have been informed as to the nature of your pets, miss,” he told Sarah with great dignity. “The Great Western Railway is prepared to offer them the same care as our human passengers.” And to prove it, he next produced a stack of yesterday’s newspapers, and asked if, in lieu of birdseed, the birds would prefer curried rice with chicken or vegetables.

“Chicken!”
shouted Grey, spreading her wings with delight, while Neville bobbed with excitement and clucked.
Now
the steward looked startled.

Sarah shrugged, and chuckled. “I think you have your answer,” she said. “I think vegetables along with the chicken would be wise, if that is possible.”

The steward blinked. “Pardon, miss, but that does seem a bit like… cannibalism.”

“Hawks eat chicken,” Grey retorted.

The steward looked a little discomfited at talking to a bird, but bravely made the attempt. “So they do… ah… miss. Chicken with vegetable curried rice for two.”

“They like digestive biscuits too.” Sarah turned to give the birds a stern look. “But
only
if you eat them over the newspaper. I won’t have crumbs all over this compartment. And no playing with the food. Eat it neatly and nicely.” She turned back to the steward. “Thank you; we will take our breakfast in the dining car. If you would be so kind, spread the papers on the floor, put the carriers on the papers, and put the food and water in bowls on the floor in front of the carriers. That will be the most secure. They’ll manage from there. When they are finished, they’ll return to the chairs.”

Now, Nan had been planning on doing all that herself, but evidently, this was the sort of request that the steward was expecting, as he nodded, said “Certainly, miss,” and retired. As he did, she heard him muttering to himself “Blimey. Them birds behave better than some peoples’ brats.”

Nan looked askance at Sarah. “We could have done all that,” she pointed out.

Sarah nodded. “We could, but we shouldn’t. We are expected to demand a certain level of service, and if we don’t ask for things like that, we won’t fit. Memsa’b explained this all to me. I don’t really like it myself, but she promised me that this would ultimately make less trouble for us. A couple of wealthy girls with odd pets is eccentric. A couple of girls who
clearly
aren’t accustomed to first class travel, with odd pets, is suspicious.”

“Yes, true,” Andrew put in, “But what could they
do
about it?”

“For one thing, as soon as we changed trains, our first class compartment could mysteriously become unavailable,” Sarah told him. “For another, the authorities could be notified. We could find ourselves held up for hours, answering questions over and over. Worst case, we could find ourselves locked up as potential ticket thieves, ticket forgers, or mentally unstable.” She sighed. “Memsa’b has had to deal with this sort of thing before—I am more than willing to take her word for it. And I am willing to go along with it as long as all it takes is pretending to a little arrogance. Besides, Lord A gave us spending money, plenty to tip generously for his services when we leave this train.”

Nan had to chuckle at that. “You might not have heard him as he left, but I did. He said the birds had better manners than some peoples’ children.”

Soon as he had promised, the steward arrived with dishes of curried rice, water, and biscuits on a tray. “If you’d care to step along to the car, miss, sir, I’ll take care of your pets,” he said—quite cheerfully. His face grew even more cheerful when, after he had put down the tray and opened the door for them, Sarah pressed something into his hand and with a sweet smile, murmured “Thank you.”