Lord of Order by Brett Riley (the reading list book TXT) 📕

said. You look like you been buried alive and dug up with a broke shovel.

McClure smiled. Ford winked at her. Ain’t had time to bathe, she said. Been keepin watch since Loyola. Lotta crazy talk among the Troublers.

Ford’s smile faded. Long glanced at Tetweiller. What kind of talk? Tetweiller asked.

Talk like this, the girl said. She took a folded piece of paper from her shirt pocket and tossed it onto the table. Tetweiller picked it up. A splotch of wax caked the top and bottom of the page. Two red fingerprints stained the front of the page, a similar thumbprint on the back.

That’s blood, Ford said.

McClure shrugged. Fella didn’t wanna give it to me. I persuaded him.

Tetweiller examined the seal and then showed it to Ford and Long. Long’s eyes widened.

Rook, Ford said.

Tetweiller opened the paper and read. His throat went dry. Left the goddam flask in the den. Not even Lynn Stransky’s damnable cackle had brought their situation home like this.

It’s to Dwyer, he said.

Dwyer. Seen him when he rode in, McClure said. Prettiest man I ever laid eyes on. I could eat them arms for breakfast.

You’re too young to talk like that, Tetweiller said.

If you ain’t too old, I ain’t too young.

How about we quit sinnin like devils and read the letter, said Long.

So Tetweiller read.

To the Right Honorable Herald Jevan Dwyer:

Greetings, and safe riding.

Know you this: our reports indicate Gabriel Troy maintains strong loyalties to the citizens of New Orleans—much stronger than his dedication to the Bright Crusade. His most trusted subordinates—Deputy Lords John Hobbes and Gordon Boudreaux, Retired Lord of Order Ernest Tetweiller, Chief Hunter and Gatherer Santonio Ford, and Chief Weaponsmith LaShanda Long—may have been similarly corrupted. Other highly placed sympathizers might exist. Troy seeks regular council from Sarah Gonzales, a Papist nun.

We do not know the extent to which Lord Troy and his subordinates would betray the Crusade. Perhaps our concerns are misplaced and Lord Troy will remember his first duty is to God. However, should he or any member of his staff attempt to hinder the Crusade’s plans, deal with them using all necessary force. When my envoys arrive, share these orders with them. Under their command, New Orleans will be transformed and purged. Once they have read this document, destroy it. Share its contents with no one else.

Soon we will all be together in a new, purer world.

Love and Grace,

Matthew Rook

The word purged suppurated in Tetweiller’s mind, a leper’s sore.

He threw the paper on the table. Ford picked it up and read it again. Then he handed it to Long. Tetweiller got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He intended to drink until he passed out. It might be the last chance he ever had.

The girl finished her water and regarded the grown-ups around the table. Sounds like a fight’s comin. What’s our play?

The adults looked at each other. At first no one said anything. The silence weighed on them like the heat, oppressive and thick.

Long dropped the paper on the table and said, I’ll keep Gabriel’s secret, Ernie—for now. And I’ll help you because these orders don’t sound godly to me. But this is our church. We gotta check our hearts and our consciences every single day. And if I think for one second we’re wrong, I’ll turn myself in and drag you to them towers myself. Or put a bullet in you.

Fair enough, Tetweiller said. Ford looks like he’s gonna puke. I reckon that’s a natural reaction to learnin everything you ever worked for is diseased.

Finally, though, Ford nodded and said, Yeah.

Tetweiller shook the hunter’s hand, thinking, Not exactly what I was hopin for, but better than I feared. He turned to McClure and said, Tote that letter south. Look in every armory until you find Gabe. Then get him alone and give it to him.

McClure finished her glass of water and set it on the table. She seemed as calm as ever.

What are we supposed to do? Long asked. I don’t know if I found my rope or lost my cow.

Here we go. Well, Tetweiller said, Gabe’s got some ideas about that. We’re gonna need information and warm bodies. Ladies and gents, how would you like to commit a jailbreak?

Again, no one said anything. On the floor, Bandit the Rottweiler had fallen asleep, as if nothing was wrong in the world.

7

Several days later, just after dark, Troy and his deputies sat in the lord’s office with Dwyer, going over fudged inventory numbers. Troy, Hobbes, and Boudreaux had gone back to every armory several times, ostensibly to double-check their figures, and had stolen weapons and ammo each time—explosives and handguns, edged weapons and shells—adjusting the reports and burning the originals. LaShanda Long had made that sure some supplies, including rifles and shotguns and longswords, never reached the armories in the first place. No guard would challenge or search the lord of order or his sworn representatives. Now Troy watched Dwyer for any sign of suspicion.

The herald played with his string as he listened, fashioning diamond shapes and hearts and cat’s cradles. He seemed preoccupied. Any day now, outriders from cities like Atlanta would arrive and absorb the massed Troublers and guards from south Louisiana principalities like Baton Rouge and Lafayette.

Without Stransky or someone like her, all those Troublers would never work with a lord of order if it came to open rebellion. And so, somewhere out there, Tetweiller, Long, and Ford would be moving on the Temple, even as Dwyer sat there with that silly yarn of his. The plan was dangerous, especially for Jack Hobbes and Santonio Ford, and if Dwyer suspected a conspiracy for even a moment, they would have to kill him.

The river’s black water blended with the overcast sky. Only the Mississippi’s undulations proved anything existed farther than ten feet away. Tetweiller wore dark clothing and two of his spare guns. In his right hand, he held a crude full-head mask with eyeholes, like those the