Finally, the guests began arriving in carriages and stage coaches, most with a few manservants and a handful of armed guards. We watched them drive up and be announced by a short, pudgy man in a suit that likely cost more than my childhood home did.

  “The Hitchins, Marcus and Melissa,” he bellowed, “Owners of the Blokosta gold mine!” he cried, as an elderly man with a much younger wife stepped daintily out of a carriage and up the path to the manor.

  They were followed by the Manfreds, who owned the largest group of slaves in the western territories, and then the solitary Mr. Blake, king of textiles. On and on, the biggest titans of industry and agriculture alike, anyone who was someone made their way to the manor, where they would play nice among their rivals one moment, then plot where to stab when backs turned.

  “And they call us scum and villains,” Guilty Grant muttered. Everything was finished, and now the time came to bring out the foot to the reception area while the guests mingled after the service. We each had a platter of covered food, and I made sure to handle the Sheriff’s special order. “How many families do you think we could feed with what this wedding cost?”

  “It’s a terrible double standard,” I agreed. “They rob us all the time, but we’re the bastards for stealing back. It’s on us to correct it. You ready and armed?”

  Grant frowned, but nodded. “I don’t want to have to hurt anyone.”

  “Neither do I,” I said, meaning it at the time. “But chances are that even with our best plans succeeding, bullets are still going to fly. You gotta be ready for it, and keep a close eye on what people are eating. And keep an ear out for fireworks. You remember the code?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then relax, and be ready.” I set the platter down on the round table with eight gorgeous, sturdy and cushioned wooden chairs. Even their seats had to be plush and expensive. Each table already had a pitcher of water and crystal glasses heavy enough to resist the constant breeze throughout the day and evening. For a second, I was tempted to pour a glass out onto Rickens’ seat, but I somehow managed to restrain myself.

  Once the reception area was set up, some of us went into the kitchen for dessert, while others would mingle among the guests and refill drinks and take away finished dishes. I made sure to stay in that group. For the next hour, I needed to be outside and ready to react when everyone else did. Besides, it was the best seat in the house for when everything fell apart.

  Bells rang and people screamed and cheered, signalling the end of the wedding and the start of phase two. Which, sadly, involved waiting for them to come out of the manor, find their seats, and start dinner. Joey the Red looked at me from his spot behind an edge table. I nodded to him and looked around.

  Grant and Joey were within easy sight, as were over a dozen of our newest people. Hiring right before a big job could be risky, but I liked to think people were rooting on us to succeed. We were horribly outnumbered, with forty or so active agents against hundreds of guests and guards. I had to force myself not to smile at those odds. A smiling servant attracted too much attention.

  Fifteen minutes later, the guests were seated, and the bride and groom came out, delirious in love and the joy of the happiest night of their lives. Part of me felt a little bad that we were about to spoil it, but…Well, fuck ‘em. They took their seats, which was the signal for me and the others to lift the lids on the food and fill glasses. A cheer went through them once the beer and wine flowed.

  Then came the speeches. The father of the bride, Malcolm MacDougal stood and gestured for the champagne to be poured. I and the others filled almost every glass, skipping the children. They’d come up in the plans, and I had no intentions of hurting them. They’d be scared enough soon.

  As I finished emptying a bottle almost as expensive as my bounty, there was the blast of a gunshot. Guests looked around wildly, expecting me and my men to jump out from every corner and attack.

  Soon. The shot was ours, but not offensive. The time was coming, and everyone needed to know their part. The sun had gone down during the wedding itself, and now the last tinges of gray gloom faded into the coming darkness. Here’s hoping we got the dosage right.

  “It’s okay,” Malcolm MacDougal called out reassuringly. “Someone just a little excited for the western territories’ newest happy couple.”

  Some of the guests laughed politely, but there was no denying the nervous undercurrent making its way through the crowd.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight, despite the threat hanging over our heads. This is a nation founded on bravery and daring, and no two-bit criminal is going to take our joy away from us! Now, when Howard first approached us about merging our two families, well, I…”

  I stopped listening and looked around. Everyone had shut up, and a few sipped at their champagne before the toast was even finished. Guards roamed around the reception area, rifles out but pointed at the ground. A loud sneeze would probably set them off. To say nothing of the fireworks that started in the distance.

  Malcolm paused in his speech. The fireworks continued, exploding bright colors in the sky just a couple miles off. The nearest guards took off running towards the perimeter of the estate, where their leaders waited.

  “It’s probably nothing,” he muttered, only just audible Malcolm took a deep breath and finished weakly. “...so join me in celebrating Mr. and Mrs. Rains, royalty for a new age!”

  With plenty of muttering and unease, people lifted their glasses and drank. Me and the others didn’t hesitate. We came forward with more bottles and refilled empty glasses like the well-greased cogs of a machine. Very few people noticed we were even there.

  Choking caught my attention. I looked up to see the Sheriff’s face turning purple and puffy. His lips and eyes were starting to swell, and tears poured out of his eyes. “Help,” he said thickly, “I said…no…shellfish!”

  A stir went through the reception. Once was an occurrence, twice a coincidence, and three times a pattern. I rushed to Rickens’ side immediately. “Are you okay, Sheriff?” I asked, doing my best to look shocked and concerned.

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  One of his deputies elbowed me out of the way and helped him away from the assembled tables and towards the manor. I backed off, meeting Grant’s eyes. He only barely held back the smile. That was another piece off the board, right when things were about to get crazy.

  Howard Rains stood next and whistled sharply. He had another toast ready. “My son Rance made a top notch choice in bridges. Just look at Maria. Lovely, demure, and eager to start a family, I hear!” He and a few men laughed, but Maria looked uncomfortable. “I won’t keep you too long from your food. So one more toast for now. Here’s to a happy wedding, and an even happier wedding night!”

  I would’ve put money on him saying that just to embarrass the poor woman. Still, people echoed him and drank. Two glasses of drugged champagne down, now we just had to wait a little. Not everyone would be affected the same, but it wouldn’t matter.

  Another gunshot rang off in the distance, and then more. It wouldn’t draw away all of the guards, but perhaps enough to let us deal with the others.

  When the first person fell, it didn’t cause much stir. An older woman slumped in her seat, blinking rapidly. She had a smile on her face, even when her husband caught her and checked her over with worry in his eyes…until they glassed over. One slim young woman fell backwards out of her seat and stared up at the sky, not even trying to get up.

  That was my cue. I grabbed an unopened bottle of champagne and whistled three sharp bursts. People looked up and watched me as I approached the head table. Howard Rains recognized me and scowled, but didn’t get up. My growing smile and the rising dread among the wedding party told him something was up.

  “Can I have your attention please?” I called out. “I want to thank Mr. Rains and Mr. MacDougal for this glorious opportunity.”

  “The hell are you talking about?” Malcolm MacDougal yelled.

  “Mal, she’s…” Howard started, finally clicking.

  “Jesse Jane, outlaw at large!” I crowed.

  Not all the guards were gone, and two drew iron on me, only to be shot before they could level their guns my way. All throughout the reception party, my people pulled out weapons from under their clothes, along with empty sacks. A few party-goers tried to get up and run, but they didn’t make it very far before stumbling face-first onto the dirt.

  “Just as I promised, we’re here to rob you! Your food and drink has been drugged, and I ask that you not fight it. And maybe don’t eat or drink anything else too, for your own safety. Malcolm MacDougal, Howard Rains?” I pointed the bottle of unopened champagne we’d stuck with a needle to fill with opium. “You are two of the richest men in the west, and you did that by stepping on the backs of your workers. You are both guilty of wage theft, exploitation, and conspiring to hoard wealth even as people starve. Today, you lose everything.”

  I shook the bottle and popped the cork, spraying them both with the drugged alcohol. They sputtered and covered their faces, but only Howard rose unsteadily to challenge me. He fell back in his seat, body growing weaker as the drugs bowled over him. I dropped the bottle and pulled out both a pistol and a sack from the wide, baggy expanses of my uniform.

  “Empty out your pockets and purses, ladies and gentleman. I want your wallets and watches, jewelry and cash. Give them all up and you can walk away with your lives. Boys? Round up the loot, and someone get started on the wedding presents!”

  A whoop went through my gang as they wound their way through the tables like sharks, taking everything they could. A minute later a gunshot went off, and a rich man breathed his last. He hadn’t drank, and resisted when the time came to give up his valuables. It was bound to happen, and I wasn’t about to feel remorse about him being too stupid to survive. I’d leave that to Grant.

  Not everyone had been affected by the champagne, but most of the rest were done in by the soup, which didn’t have any opium in it. Instead, it had a powerful laxative. Those who’d had both were in for the most humiliating moment of their lives. I’ve never intentionally hurt children, which is why we’d chosen the champagne, but a few got sick to their stomachs along with everyone else. Those who’d had neither were directed to watch out for the other kids.

  My gang quickly filled their sacks with a ridiculous amount of money and shiny trinkets, taken mostly from people who could hardly move or do anything more than grin stupidly as the drugs took them on a journey. I did my part as well, collecting the goods from the bride and groom’s table.

  “I’m going to get you for this,” Rance Rains said to me. “I’ll see you dead, thief.” He and his wife Maria apparently hadn’t eaten or had champagne yet. Interesting.

  “Maybe,” I returned, “but for now, I’m afraid I must ruin your honeymoon. Cash and jewels, now.” I gestured with my pistol towards the open sack.

  Howard Rains, drugged though he may have been, fought to stay upright and half threw himself, half fell over on top of his son. Instinct screamed, and I jerked out of the way just before the gunshot that would’ve gotten me. Whirling around, I saw the swollen face of the sheriff, gun raised.

  There was no time to fire back. I took off running, keeping low as another three shots cracked off, hitting the table, the dirt, and the leg of an opium-addled guest who had the rotten luck of being close by. Quickly, I ducked behind the next table, landing next to a ten year old boy who looked at me with wide, excited eyes. The others around us scurried away, but the boy just stared.

  I winked at him, then called out, “Looking pretty rough there, Sheriff. You sure you want to get into a firefight when you obviously can’t see?”

  “I’ll see you hang, Jesse Jane!” he screamed at me. Or at least, that’s what I thought he said. It came out as, “Ah see oo ang!” and extra wheezy.

  The next shot hit him in the shoulder, and he dropped. I took off running, away from the guests and at my friends. I hadn’t gotten the loot from the wedding party, but everyone else had bulging sacks that would be spread out from one end of Koda Junction to the other. With this score, no one would starve or go without for at least half a year.

  “C’mon Jesse, let’s git,” Joey the Red screamed, “they’ll be coming back soon, and we don’t wanna get pincered!”

  I grinned, heart soaring with joy as we booked it as fast as we could away from the reception area and right at where all the rich assholes’ transportation would be. We weren’t just stealing their goods, we were taking their way home, and leaving our mark before we got out of there.

  More gunfire erupted all around us, our brief moment of control turned to chaos. Joey and I loaded up the nearest carriage, stepping over the drivers. All household staff and transportation had been given free drinks, courtesy of the kitchen. Small Samson and his crew were out in the distance, keeping the guards busy, but it wouldn’t last long.

  “Go!” I shouted, grabbing hold of the previous driver’s rifle. It was loaded, and a box next to the seat had plenty more. Joey cracked the reins and the horses whinnied and got moving. Soon we and ten other carriages left the wedding behind. The guests lost their money, and most made terrible messes of themselves as the tainted feast went through their systems.

  Someone had set a fire in the manor before we left, and I wish I could say the entire place burned down, leaving three hundred people stranded miles from civilization. The outer guards apparently returned not long after and were able to put it out. It still bought us time to escape, and by the time pursuers caught up to the carriages, we were gone, along with the loot.

  We lost seven people to hired guns and an unruly guest or two before they were subdued, but it was the biggest robbery in the town’s history. And not just for the wedding.

  Sheriff Rickens had said it himself, he was stretched thin, and we knew he would be. The Scales Gang wasn’t the only one in town. We weren’t all friends, but greed could be used in our favor. They’d hit the bank and the estates of some of the guests while we worked.

  The Empty Wedding saw the fall of five great families’ wealth and businesses. Not all of it went to the people, but that was okay. It was enough to take from those who thought themselves untouchable.