Page 61 of Company of Thieves
“Aye, ’tis the same as me,” Mr. Piper said, hobbling over in his odd gait, giving me a wet peck on the cheek before doing the same for Safie. “Dooley’ll go for us old bachelors. Ye mind yer manners, now, lad.”
Dooley rolled his eyes, but grinned and dashed out to the carriage.
“Mon capitaine,”Mr. Francisco said, sidling up behind Octavia. “You shall allow me, your most devoted and faithful Francisco of your heartstrings, to accompany you to the weddings of the sister of the evil one?”
“Jack will escort me, thank you, Mr. Francisco,” Octavia said firmly, disentangling herself from the hold he had on her hand.
Safie looked startled. I leaned in and said, “He’s got a crush on her hair.”
“Her ... hair?”
“Yes. Evidently he wants to roll around naked on it. Drives Jack nuts, as you can imagine.”
She giggled, and put an arm through mine. “I’m so glad you’re marrying Alan. You’re going to be very good for him.”
“I hope so. I have been around Zand long enough to know he’s a very nice man, and a devoted friend to Alan, and I hope you both will be very happy. I take it you’ve been engaged for a while?”
“Many years,” she said, sighing. We followed the others to the two waiting carriages. I was a bit surprised to see that they were the fashionable steam carriages that larger towns like Rome and London sported, but evidently technology—of a form—had come to Marseilles since the last time I’d been there.
Mr. Llama, Mr. Ho, Dooley, and Mr. Christian rode in the first carriage, while Octavia and Safie and I climbed into the second, waiting for Jack, who came at a run from Alan’s airship.
“Just made sure the groom got off to the church, and wasn’t going to do a runner—” Jack stopped when he sat down opposite me, his brow furrowed. “Er. Hal. You’re wearing Moghul armor.”
“I’m glad to see your eyesight isn’t going,” I said placidly, scooting over when Mr. Francisco, with a glare toward Jack (who was sitting with his arm around Octavia), pushed in between Safie and me. “Is everything all right with Alan?”
“Yes.” Jack returned Mr. Francisco’s glare. “He said he sent over your clothes. Was there nothing else you could wear?”
“You wore what you wanted to your wedding,” I said complacently, looking out of the window as the steam carriage lurched forward. I’d always been amused by the steam technology that people in this world embraced. “I’m doing the same. Oh, hey, who is that?”
“Who is ... bloody hell,” Octavia said, peering out of the window. Overhead, moving with the grace peculiar to airships, a long shape drifted toward the east. “That’s an imperial ship.”
Jack craned his head to see, whistling softly. “Not transport. It’s too small for that.”
“There are two others,” Safie said, pointing out of the other window.
We all looked, even as the steam carriages bumped from the farmyard onto the main road leading into town. Two other airships, both done in navy blue with a large stylizedWon the front envelope, flew over our heads.
“Three ships?” I glanced at Jack. “Traveling together? I didn’t think they did that.”
“They don’t normally,” Jack said, rubbing his jaw. “Not unless ...”
Octavia sucked in her breath, and took his hand. “Not unless they bear contingents of guards.”
“The emperor’s guards,” Jack said, nodding.
“Which means that’s William on the first ship?” I asked, my gaze on my brother. “The same emperor who Octavia—”
“Yes, yes, we all know about her relationship with him,” Jack said, then quickly corrected himself. “Her former relationship.”
Octavia clicked her tongue and elbowed him.
“What does that mean to us?” I asked, worrying that Alan would have to don the disguise of a diplomat immediately. And just what was I to do while he was dancing attendance on William?
“I don’t know yet,” Octavia answered, but her gaze was troubled. “I suspect we’ll have to wait and see.”
“I can tell you one thing,” Jack said, his voice hard. “It’s going to be lively with the Black Hand, William, and us in town at the same time.”
I said nothing during the rest of the ride, being busy with my own thoughts and worries. I had just decided that if Alan had a diplomat’s disguise, I’d have to arrange for the same, which meant I’d have to wear the long skirts and corsets favored by ladies of society. I was grimacing over that idea when we arrived at a small church made of dark gray stone, one with a slight air of being abandoned, which suited me just fine. Dusk was falling, and a lamplighter moved slowly lighting the gas lamps that cast warm puddles of light onto the cobblestone street.
