Karen and David were last to arrive in the funeral procession.
There were hundreds from The Order gathering along the procession.
"David, I don't know these houses."
David pointed a black gloved hand finger. "That's House Gislbert."
"Gislebert?"
"...they were originally Gibbons, but they reverted their names back to the Norman roots.They're a bunch of contrarions. Whatever you say, they'll argue the point."
"Why?"
"That's what House Gibbons does."
"Why?"
"They're all a bunch of politicians, Karen. What else would they do?"
Karen shrugged. "Who are they?" Karen pointed a group of pale women.
"House Goodwife," David pointed. "There's our coroner."
"Why are they all women"?
"They're all widows." David frowned. "Grim reapers, the lot of them. Grim reminders of the price, and demand for doing God's work. Come on, let's go say goodbye."
✟ ☧ ✟
Thunder rumbled overhead, the clouds a dark blanket over Driftwood's sky. The rain fell as Judge Grifford took his place at the graveside. "Good afternoon, Houses. Thank you for coming."
"Deus vult." Hundreds of voices called back.
"Before we begin, are there any clergy?"
Stifled laughter rang from the crowd.
Grifford smiled, and those who knew Samael saw him in it; the hairline fractures in teeth that would never crumble. "...and the man replied: Lord, first let me go and bury my father. Christ said, follow me and let the dead bury their own. But as for you, go and proclaim then Kingdom of God."
"Deus vult." David and Karen's voice carried with the other houses.
"We are gathered here today, beloved Houses, not to mourn the loss of a man of legend, but to celebrate his life. Bartholomew Walker lived a life long past retirement, and where the tread of vigor wears thin on most who live to see retirement, Bart found his retirement in the arms of the Lord, Christ."
Rain began falling in heavy droplets, spattering in Bart's heavy, ornate coffin.
"It was the heretical rogue, Gina Guerrero, new to The Order - our Order - that brought that life into contrast."
Karen lifted a brow, not beyond the notice that Grifford was staring at she and David. She nodded, and Grifford made only the slightest subtle acknowledgement.
The inquisitor judge spread his glove hands across the community of Houses. "To survive long life, but especially in our world, is to witness the passing of our sons, our daughters, our kin, and our friends. Whether is it skill, luck, or blessing is not a matter of contest. Be it all, or none, ours is a strange life, wrought and riddled with tragedy."
"Sometimes we kill them." House Goodwife called.
"Sometimes they kill us." The solitary voice of House Bishop called from behind Grifford."
Murmurs carried through the neo-puritan houses as Bishop stepped through them to be seen.
Judge Grifford nodded. "To every territory, a judge. To every community, heroes, and legends among them. We few remaining Houses in Driftwood were blessed to share our territory with Bartholomew Walker. Today, we commit his body to the ground, and we do this with the knowledge that he walks with the Lord God, Jesus Christ."
"Deus vult."
"The rains paused in respite, and held their breath over our humble Driftwood, our homes built over the blood, the bones, and the barrow of the silent war. He passed, Bartholomew - Bart to his friends and loved one - into paradise, and left a storm behind him. His shadow falls over us each, someone in action each we should aspire."
"Deus vult."
"...he was fearless of Death, for never once did was there doubt in him where he would go. Though he passed on Christmas, our holiday now, and always shall not be sullied by his passing. Blessed is this gift too many outside The Order take for granted. Long life, and legacy."
"Our legacy, and lives for The Order. Deus vult, deus vult, deus vult!"
"Where from here do we go? We are not the fallen, the Morningstar, who is called Satan, and the devil, and so we go not roaming through the earth, and going back and forth in it. We are not a proud people, we are not Houses drowning in the iniquity of pride."
"Humble, humble shall we ever be."
David stared at the faces around him. He recognized some, many even, but knew few of them.
"Bartholomew Walker was a man of few words, though if you could catch him in a mood to palaver, he has much to say, and none of it wasted breath. My words now, too many. That's what Bart would say, master hunter, legend, and hero of The Order. May he walk ever with the Lord, and we in example of his way."
"Divinum ius ad bellum! Jus in bello!"
The divine right to war. Doing right in war.
The Houses clapped, with them David and Karen.
✟ ☧ ✟
David stood with Karen on the deck over their back yard. A half acre of trees lay sidelong, cut down.
He looked at Karen's profile as shenztared out over their land. "Did you deforest an acre of our land?"
Karen nodded."You were in your coma, when Bart and I had a conversation right here where we're standing. He told me that when he was young the forest line was a lot farther back. I can't say how much, I don't remember..."
"...and?"
"...and I told him if it were mine I would reclaim it. Cut it, burn it, beat it back. That nothing in this world would keep me from what is mine."
"Karen... that's a lot of forest."
She nodded with a self satisfied smile. "Half acre. That's twenty-one-thousand-seven-hundred-eighty feet. We found him Christmas morning, and I thought, fuck, you know? Then, I thought, fuck it."
"So, you cut down a half-acre of trees."
"I didn't do it personally, but since we weren't staying here, I hired some help to cut it back. We'll sell the lumber, keep some for the hearth. Nothing will keep me from what is mine."
David inched closer to her until they were shoulder-to-shoulder, still staring at her profile. "Was it ever about the trees?"
Karen removed her gloves and tossed them over the balcony. She placed her hand over David's and turned her head to look him in the eyes. "No. It was about you. It's always been about you."
"...but the trees were pretty. They weren't hurting the property."
Karen smiled, but her eyes were hard. "I didn't hurt you, baby. I Just cleared some space. Plenty of pretty out there. Like those trees, if they ever attempt to encroach on what is mine I will cut them down and burn them to ash."
"God, you're dark."
Karen leaned closer and kissed the tip of his nose. "I'll cut the world down, beat it back, and burn it to ash before I ever let anything get between us again."
"Nothing's going to come between us. Where's this aggression coming from?"
"Bart Walker is dead." Karen further hardened her eyes, and David realized she was fighting sorrow, and fighting tears. "Bart Walker is dead, David. He is survived by you... only you. Your line - our line - is down to us."
"...are you? Are you asking for children?"
Karen made a face. "Dude, I'm gonna punch you in the throat."
"Okay, so that's not it."
She shook her head. "No, moron. I don't want to have post-funeral maritals."
"Oh, thank God."
Karen snorted. "You're lucky I know what you mean, or I'd donkey punch you for that."
"What do you mean?"
Karen frowned. "David, The Order is dying. More of us die than there are hunters to end the war."
"There were hundreds of us today."
"Yeah, the Goodwife widow, and Gibbons. Hundreds of our people to wish Bart off, and it was nearly the entirety of The Order."
David cast his gaze to the half-acre of fallen trees. "I feel lost."
"D, you're right where you need to be, man. Here on the balcony, with me, in our house."
"Yeah."
"There's a wake going on. We should get over to Judge Griff's. David?"
"Yeah, Karen..."
"I'm pregnant."