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

Troy and his lieutenants prove false, we have the guns and the numbers. Our faithful are planting the charges that will flood this city. Lynn Stransky remains in exile. The common people are sheep. So far, only Troy has questioned us. Soon I will test him further. Jack Hobbes and Ernest Tetweiller as well.

He turned to Clemens. We should inform Lord Troy and his colleagues that we need no assistance from them. All local officials are to remain with their populace, quelling fears and eliminating dissent as the prisoners begin to settle north of the river.

What if they balk?

Frankly, I expect them to. If I am right, we’ll lock them in the towers. I doubt any masked bandits will liberate them.

Clemens grinned, showing uneven white teeth. I’ll hunt them down myself, if it comes to that. He saluted and turned his horse, clopping back the way he had come.

Royster frowned. Clemens had always been useful, but something about this mission had made him reckless and prideful. And Mister Rook had been clear: Only the most faithful, pure, loyal Crusaders were to survive the coming Purge. Clemens seemed too wild a card to keep in play for long.

Benn would put a bullet in his head, should it become necessary. Like Lisander Royster himself, Benn had always followed orders. His soul was safe.

13

Clemens found Troy with Tetweiller and Hobbes on Dauphine Street, where a short, bald man appeared to be suffering a panic attack. Troy and Hobbes held his arms while Tetweiller spoke to him. Clemens dismounted and approached.

I just don’t think I can take much more, fellas, the diminutive citizen said. All that clankin, day and night. All these bad seeds movin in. I feel like I’m bein punished when I ain’t did nothin wrong.

Well, you can’t go around yellin your fool head off, Tetweiller said. Everybody’s on edge as it is. Now. If we turn you loose, you gonna keep calm?

The little man swallowed hard and nodded. Troy and Hobbes let go and stepped back. They looked ready to tackle him at the first sign of trouble.

Clemens cleared his throat. What’s happening here?

Troy glanced at Clemens. Nothin much. Billy’s just got a case of the nerves. He’s okay.

The lord of order doesn’t much like me, Clemens thought. And I don’t like any of these yokels. He better be okay. Only Troublers incite panic.

Billy’s eyes widened. Now wait a minute—

Troy shoved Billy away. You get along home.

Billy walked off, glancing back at Clemens, nearly plowing into a rusty street sign. Troy watched him go until he rounded the corner. Then he turned to Clemens. When we need your help with our people, we’ll ask. Until that day, stay away from em, or you and me’s gonna have a problem.

Clemens’s eye twitched. I’d love to headbutt him right in the nose and blow that hardcase expression right off his face. But orders were to speak, not act, and Clemens had no intention of crossing Royster. He stepped back. Tetweiller and Hobbes relaxed. Mister Royster’s right. Those two believe in Troy, not the Crusade. If I’d made a move, they would have burned me down.

I was just trying to help drive home your point, he said. Speaking of which, I’ve got one of my own. Straight from Mister Royster.

Troy held Clemens’s gaze. Clemens kept his hands clear of his gun belt. That old fart Tetweiller’s staring a hole in me. As if such a dried-up husk could stand against one of Matthew Rook’s chosen. And look how calm Hobbes is. He might as well be sitting in church or watching the grass grow. Better be careful with him.

Let’s hear it, Troy said.

You’ve got far too much on your plate these days, what with your populace’s penchant for coming down with—what did you call it?—a case of the nerves. Mr. Royster says to stay out of the areas where the Troublers are being kept. See to your own people.

The old man spat. So Royster’s tellin us where we can and can’t ride in our own city.

Ernie, Troy said.

Clemens scowled. Yes, he is. He outranks us all. If he orders you to hop on one leg right into the lake, you should do it. Assuming you’re loyal.

The old man stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something, but Troy put a hand on his chest. Hobbes took Tetweiller by the arm. None of them had taken their eyes off Clemens.

Mister Royster’s right, Troy said. We got plenty to do. Don’t we, fellas?

Hobbes nodded, unblinking and cold. Tetweiller did not acknowledge that anyone had spoken.

We’d be well served to see them in chains, squatting on the streets and urinating in the gutters like the Troublers they are. No telling how deeply their sin has wormed into the general population.

At least one of them knew where Lynn Stransky was hiding. Clemens would have bet his life on it.

Well, if we all understand each other, he said, I’ll leave you to your duties. Gentlemen. The last word dripped with sarcasm.

No one replied. They might have been statues.

I’m going to enjoy blowing Tetweiller’s brains out, if he has any. With Hobbes, I might start with a gutshot, just to see if he can be that stoic with his innards hanging to his knees.

Clemens mounted up, turned his horse south, and rode away. Their stares made the back of his neck itch. He grinned, a savage expression men like Gabriel Troy would have recognized.

14

Horses and heretics surged against chains and ropes, dragging the wall segment toward an angled trench ten feet deep along its terminus. More Troublers pushed against the back side, muscles straining. Soon the segment thudded into the trench. When the dust settled, the section leaned outward a bit, so Melton, the foreman on duty, directed the workers and animals as they pushed and tugged it straight. More workers shoveled and packed the loose dirt in, leaving twenty-five feet of wall above ground. Then they