Page 63 of Company of Thieves
“Perhaps the monseigneur will be willing to give us the condensed marriage ceremony?” Alan suggested, gesturing to his men. With the exception of Zand, who stood behind us with Safie, they ran off, no doubt to get theNightwingready.
Another two booms sounded, followed by several whistles of the police force, and a roaring explosion. The old priest gave a little gulp and hurriedly said, “Yes, of course, it shall be as Monsieur desires. Do you ... er ... Hallelujah Norris take this Moghul?”
“I sure do,” I said, smiling at Alan.
“And do you, Akbar Basir Alan dit Aurangzeb take this ... er ... also Moghul?”
“Yes,” Alan said, turning around when one of the men appeared at the entrance of the church, yelling something to him. “Yes, I do. Can we hurry, please?”
“You are now married,” the old man said, sketching a cross in the air before turning to a small table beside him. “Please sign both copies.”
“Hey, don’t I even get a kiss?” I asked when Alan hurriedly signed two copies of what I assumed was the marriage certificate.
“Later,” he promised. “Wait here.”
“Alan!” Zand yelled when Alan started down the aisle at a run.
He paused.
Zand tipped his head toward Safie.
“Marry her,” he said, and would have continued, but Zand yelled, “And theFalcon?”
“Can Zand be captain, please?” Safie asked. “I’m really tired of the responsibility. I just want to live in a house and raise horses.”
“Yes, yes, you’re captain now.” Alan didn’t wait for any other distractions—he just bolted.
I picked up the nib pen he’d dropped, and signed my name on the two forms, sighing to myself as I did so.
“What should we do?” Safie asked, obviously worried.
The priest shoved one of the copies of the certificate into my hands, clearly happy to be done with the whole thing.
“Marry us,” Zand told the priest, moving into the spot where, a few seconds before, Alan and I had stood.
“Congratulations,” Jack said, kissing me on both cheeks. “I hope you’ll be as happy as we are.” And then he, too, was off. Octavia would have followed, most of her crew already at the door, but Mr. Ho stopped her, saying in a low voice, “Captain, since we’re here ... would you mind if we ...” She nodded toward the priest, who was asking Safie if she would take Zand.
Octavia looked from Beatrice Ho to Mr. Llama, who stood smiling behind her. “Oh! I had no idea that you—well, of course, if you think that’s a good—yes, yes, you have my blessings. Just join us when you can.” She ran off, calling for Jack to wait for her.
“I guess we can be each other’s witnesses,” I said, feeling a little lonely while I watched Safie and Zand get married.
Zand kissed Safie, grinned at me, and, taking her by the hand, raced down the aisle with her in tow.
Another boom shook the rafters of the old church, dust and fine particles of debris wafting softly to the ground around us.
Mr. Ho looked at Mr. Llama. He smiled at her. They stepped up to the priest.
“Another one? Very well, but this will have to be quick. I do not intend to stand around waiting for the walls to come down upon me. Do you take him?” he asked Mr. Ho.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you take her?” he asked, pointing the pen that he still held in his hand at Mr. Ho.
Mr. Llama nodded, and said in a soft voice that he most assuredly did.
“I declare you married. Sign both copies.”
They signed. The priest grabbed up the three marriage certificates, and ran for it, calling for us to get to safety.
