Bane

December 28, 1993

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."