Speak Its Name: A Trilogy by Lee Rowan, Charlie Cochrane, Erastes Page A

but as they ascended into the Alps the land went back to winter’s drab white and brown. Now, with the train circling north of the highest elevations, spring was returning. He could see patches of land showing the first touches of green where the snow was beginning to melt away.
    But it was all just pictures from here inside the car as it rolled steadily across the countryside. Scoville was looking forward to standing on a floor that wasn’t swaying. He loved walking outdoors, especially in this season, with the scent of warm earth and spring rain.
    It did look fine outside, good weather for a postprandial cigar on the dining car’s rear platform. He patted his pockets, realised his cigar case was in his trunk in Darling’s compartment, and made a detour through the connecting door to fetch it. If the cuisine in the dining car was any portent of things to come, it wasn’t espionage that would put him at risk. The only danger he was certain to face was the tightening of his waistcoat if he lingered too long in the coffeehouses indulging in the fine flaky Viennese pastry.
    When he awoke some time later with a blinding headache, that idiot optimism was the last thing he remembered.
    ~
    As he made his way to the dining car, Jack Darling noted that two more passenger cars had been added during their stop in Munich, shortly after breakfast. All to the good, that. The additional corridors provided a few dozen yards more exercise to whet the appetite for a meal as good as or better than what they’d find at home. A word with the maitre d’ on their first afternoon aboard, with a sovereign tucked into the parting handshake, had ensured them a good table and prompt service. And, just as he’d expected, their usual table was ready and waiting.
    Jack perused the menu briefly. How the devil had they managed to make sauerbraten in a dining car’s cramped kitchen? Did some restaurant along the route marinate a tub of beef for them? No matter, he’d lay odds on that being his Lordship’s choice. Always eat the local dishes, Lord Robert said, otherwise what’s the point of travel?
    But what was keeping him? If Lord Robert said he’d be a minute, that was generally what he meant. It had been—Jack checked his watch—nearly ten minutes. That was not just unusual, it was unprecedented. And worrisome.
    Something was wrong. He’d known from the start, when Scoville returned from his meeting in Whitehall, that there was something different about this trip, something shady or dangerous. Jack had known Lord Robert far too long to miss the little signs that something was afoot.
    We’re on a train , he reminded himself as he stood and headed for the exit. What could possibly happen on a train?
    A train with two more carloads of strangers aboard.
    A lot could happen, and much of it bad. Jack managed to walk in a calm and composed manner to the end of the dining car and through the door to the next. Then he ran.
    ~
    Scoville took careful inventory of himself before attempting to open his eyes. His head throbbed, his face was pressed against something rough and slightly musty-smelling. And the floor rumbled. He needed to get himself up.
    But not just yet. He couldn’t even force his eyelids open, could not find the strength to move at all.
    The door squeaked a bit. Why had he not noticed that the door squeaked?
    “My lor—Dear God!”
    Nought to fear, Darling’s here. Scoville tried to say hello, but for some reason even that was too much for him.
    A hand touched his face very gently, sought the pulse at his throat. “Major—my lord, can you hear me?” The tone of Darling’s voice hardened. “Find a doctor—now! And bring me some ice!”
    Ah. Sergeant Darling had matters in hand. Somebody would be going for a doctor, double-quick, and hell to pay if one could not be found. Scoville swallowed and summoned resources enough to say, “At ease, Sergeant.”
    “My lord—what happened?”
    “Help—help me up, would you?” He