This time she let the thunder build until her ears rang with it and it pounded at her chest like huge soft hammers, and then let it die away until she replaced the helm on the coffin with gentle reverence.
They're mine, she realized, when she looked at them again. And I'm theirs. I've never felt like this before: did Mike?
She motioned Mary and Ritva up into the cart; Will handed her the boy. The girls stood straight on either side of her; Mike Jr. rode her hip, knuckled an eye and then looked out over the crowd fearlessly. He'd never been a timid boy.
"The Bear Lord is dead. Will you keep faith with the one who gave his life for you? Will you keep faith with the blood that he spilled out for you, the blood that runs in his children? When the time comes they can take up his work. Will you choose one of them to wear the Helm of the Bear Lord in his place?"
The noise wasn't words, not this time, but it was certainly agreement. There was a roaring guttural undertone to it, as well: Let anyone who wants to say no I won't run far and fast! She noticed even then that her brother and his wife had their swords drawn, and were shouting as loud as anyone.
Is this what Juniper feels, when she makes magic? Signe let herself smile a little before she continued.
"Bearkillers, with his dying breath the Bear Lord named Will Hutton as his deputy, to rule in his stead until his children came of age and a new Bear Lord could be chosen by you, the free people of the Outfit. You know Will Hutton; a fighting man our enemies and the wild folk fear, and a wise and honest one as well. He was always Mike Havel's strong right hand and close councilor. The Bear Lord put the authority in his hands, and to advise him Mike set me, and my brother Eric, Will's son-in-law, and Luanne his daughter and my sister-in-law, and his wife Angelica, and my father Ken and his wife Pamela. People of the Bearkiller Outfit, is it your will that this be so?"
Will stepped up to stand by her side before the sound of acclamation died. He turned his head slightly to whisper into her ear; they were about the same height. "You might have told me about this first, honeypie."
"And then you might have said no to the arrangements," she said back with a wintry smile. "And this is what Mike wanted: or at least, it's what I think Mike would have wanted."
"And now I can't do otherwise without it lookin' as if I was out to trample down his memory and his kids'. Folk'll remember this day for a good long time, that's certain-sure. What your daddy calls makin' myths. Mike, he did marry him up a smart one, didn't he?"
"Hey, Unc' Will, you don't believe those stories about dumb blonds, do you?"
"I used to, truth to tell, but now I got me a tow-haired Swedish grandson and he's as smart as a whip," he snorted. "I won't say which side of the family he got it from."
She blinked then, shocked that the tears she'd fought back were still waiting. I can't cry now. Later, but not now. "Oh, God, Unc' Will, I miss him!"
He nodded, gave her shoulders a brief squeeze, then stood straight beside her and waited for the noise to die, blocky and strong and looking out at their people with shrewd eyes dark in his weathered, coffee-colored face. The crowd fell quiet bit by bit.
"Mike Havel was like a son to me," he told them shortly. "I'm grieving with you."
He crossed himself. "I hope he's with God now: or that he doesn't have too long a spell in Purgatory. God knows and we all know he wasn't a perfect man; he wasn't the prayin' sort, and he had him quite a temper, and he was a bad man to cross, a hard man to his enemies. Hell, folks, if y'all find a perfect man, come runnin' and tell me-I ain't going to nohow waste my time looking around for one, except Jesus his own self."
A burst of startled laughter cut across the crowd's mood; when he went on they were coming back to the light of common day, from that other place where Signe had led them, even as sun and winds and shadows fell towards the west.
But that's OK, she thought. They'll remember it the more strongly because it wasn't long. I don't think it could be long, or we'd burn out. Common day is where we live. That other place: it's for visiting and coming back.
Hutton went on: "But Mike Havel was a good man, as good as any I ever met. He stood by his friends and his kin and his given word, and he wasn't never afraid of nothing in all the world. There was no give in that man, and no step-pin' back. Sisu, his old-country folks called it, and Mike had all there was to have. Everything around us here today is his work. Now he's gone."
He put his hand on the head of the boy Signe carried for a moment.
"But like Signe said, his kids are still with us. They say our children are the future, and that's God's truth; I've got grandkids and I hope to see their kids before I go. Mike Havel wasn't afraid to die, for his kids, or for yours, for our future. That's right and fitting; it's a man's work to fight and die for his fam'ly, and it's his pride. But it's also a man's pride-or a woman's-to work for his kids and their future. You know that; you work every day to grow the food they eat and make the clothes they wear. We've got work ahead of us, Bearkillers. The Outfit has to fix up what this war tore down, and we're going to have lots of people moving south. Some'll be honest and hard-workin' folks who'll want to join up with us. They won't have much, but they'll have their hands and their backs and the guts to use them-and remember how we got our start, from people just like them. Others won't be honest, and likely we'll have to fight again.
"So today we bury Mike Havel, and we'll remember him the way he'd have wanted-what he did for us, and what we did with him leadin' us. Then tomorrow, we get to work."
Signe Havel nodded as she stepped down from the cart, and the coffin-bearers came forward. Her eyes flicked eastward for a moment.
All right, she thought. Your son is his too, and you've got an inheritance for him. But this is for mine, and the children of their children.