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

the gun off the saddle. Warm blood splashed onto his pants, his horse. Thess whinnied and backed away.

Charters held a butcher’s knife, her legs shoulder-width apart and bent at the knees. She stood perhaps four feet away.

Ford cradled his injured hand against his chest. How long you been with em?

Charters stepped closer. Thess nickered and danced back, as if the woman were a rattlesnake. I ain’t with em, she said. Not in my heart. But the other night, a patrol caught me comin home. They took Lars. They took my kids.

Despair hammered Ford’s chest like physical blows. Where?

To the old compound across the river. Stuck em in a cell with one bunk and one chamber pot, no food or water.

Bright red arrows of pain shot from Ford’s hand all the way to his neck. And this is how you get em out.

Charters slid closer. Thess backed away.

Part of you wants to get caught, she said, sounding sad and resigned. I’ve heard it in your voice. You got doubts.

Don’t presume to know my heart.

She tossed the knife from hand to hand. All right. But I ain’t goin back without you.

He scanned the shapeless ground for the pistol. If he lived through this, he could not leave it.

Keep her talking. And what if you do? he asked.

They chain my kids together and toss em in the river. While they’re still alive. Then they send me Lars’s head.

There it is. I was selfish enough to ask for a sign, and now Nella’s payin the price. The Crusade eats its young. I’ll ask you again. You owe it to Jack to tell the truth. Do they know our names?

Not from me. The deal is, I give em my contact in the park. I didn’t even tell em who you was. Like you said. I owe Jack.

You really think they’ll honor the bargain? Ford asked. On the ground, a shape that might have been his pistol. They’ll kill your family and torture you until you give up every name you know.

Maybe. But if there’s a chance to save my kids, I’m takin it. Get off the horse.

She stepped forward. Thess backed away.

Give me a day, Ford said. I’ll figure out a way to save your family.

You couldn’t even save Troy, and he wasn’t in no fortress. She continued to toss the knife back and forth, easing closer, closer. We were fools to think we could beat em, Santonio. Just give up. Maybe we can save our souls.

Thess circled away from her. Ford tried to keep track of that shape on the ground. Don’t do this, he said. I can just leave. Tell em I never showed.

I told you. I can’t go back empty-handed. Now get down from there.

Ford looked past her. I reckon they followed you.

They’re hangin back. I convinced em you’d hear em all comin, so they gave me ten minutes to bring you in. Or gut you. Now it’s almost up. Get off that horse before I hamstring you where you sit.

Ford dismounted. His six-guns bounced against his thigh. He hoped he could draw faster than she could close the distance. There’s gotta be a way outta this. For both of us.

She moved past a break in the trees, revealing herself in the moonlight. She was weeping. This is the best I can do—this knife. I told em I was better with a blade than a gun, so you got a fair chance. If I get you, maybe it saves my family. If you get me, they can’t say I didn’t try. Maybe they’ll pity my kids.

She came forward and slashed at him. Ford dodged.

If they had pity, he said, they wouldn’t do this to you in the first place.

Shoot me or die, Santonio. Right now.

She leaped forward, thrusting the blade at him. It missed his throat by millimeters.

From the south, a dull glow—torches, a couple of dozen at least. Charters turned the knife over in her hand, the blade pointed at her elbow.

Ford did not draw.

Charters bared her teeth, raised the knife over her head, and lunged, arcing it down. He grabbed her wrist with his injured hand. She punched him in the jaw. He kneed her in the gut and then let go of her and kicked her in the sternum. She crashed against a tree and groaned. The moonlight filtering through the trees cast abstract patterns on her upturned face. She leaned there for a moment, looking at him. The stamp of horses’ hooves grew closer.

Damn you, she spat. This ain’t no schoolyard dustup. Get serious.

Nella, he said. Come with me. I’ll hide you. I promise you we’ll find a way to get your family out.

She watched him a moment. Then she pushed away from the tree, the knife pointing at his heart. What would Gabe Troy say about your promises? You say you’re on his side, but you ran him right off that bridge. How are you better than Clemens?

There’s things you don’t know.

She laughed. It was bitter, like citrus peel or wild chicory. I wanted to fight you toe to toe and let God decide who goes home. But I can see your heart ain’t in it. She turned and ran toward the glow and the hoofbeats, cupping her hands to her mouth, shouting, He’s over here, in the park. It’s Sant—

Ford shot her in the back. The report echoed off the buildings.

He looked at the pistol in his hand. He did not remember drawing.

Charters grunted and fell to one knee.

In the muzzle flash, he had seen the other pistol. He hunted around until his hand closed on it. He holstered his six-gun, stuck the silenced one in his belt, and ran to Charters.

Shouts from the south, louder hoofbeats. The torches’ glow had doubled in size.

Here, she cried, holding one hand to her back.

Shut up, Ford hissed. Just hush. He tried to help her up.

She threw her body weight against him. He fell onto his hindquarters. Charters landed in his lap, bleeding all over him, soaking his clothes.