by Kyrii Rayne
Mutters from the crowd, most of them approving. She turned and went back to her seat, feeling the tears starting to spill. There goes my mascara.
They all went up, one at a time.
Over two dozen of them, some weeping, some stoic, some trying to be stoic and breaking around the edges. They spoke Helga's praises to the rising sun, and then to the gathering dark. And when they were done, and the sun had vanished behind the mountains, Darrin lit the pyre, and they sent Helga's body away on a cloud of smoke.
Chapter 2 -
Contested Will
Two days later, Jake went looking for Darrin and found him in Helga's office, slowly boxing up her personal belongings and going through her files. Helga had a son-in-law in Alberta whom she had willed most of her physical property to, and the first thing Jake saw as he came in was a stack of boxes labeled with the man's address, sitting to the left of the door.
“Hey man, how's it going?”
He kept his voice as friendly as possible, but low. Whenever he put too much effort into sounding hale and hearty, his voice cracked and his tone crumbled. Under any other circumstances, he would have felt like a wuss. But as Darrin had said simply, “It's Helga.”
Her death had hit him harder than his own father's, and realizing that had opened up its own can of emotional worms. But he had to be strong for Anna, and for his brother and his friends.
“You need a hand with any of this?”
“Just when it's time to roll these boxes out. I'm going to have about two hand trucks' worth at this rate. Never met someone with so many tchotchkes as Helga.”
He gave Jake a thin, sad little smile and kept paging through the file drawer in front of him.
“Well, she was about ninety years older than God and had tons of friends. That's a lot of birthday and Christmas gifts.” Jake looked around. Without the figurines, Native art, fetishes and vases, the office looked bare. He hadn't even realized before now just how many full display cases she had kept in the room. Or how many books - an entire wall was floor to ceiling shelves, now emptied of their volumes. The place was cleared out enough now that it echoed slightly when they spoke.
“Guess so.” Darrin huffed a sigh and pointed at a sheaf of papers on the desktop. “Helga's will. She wanted me to take over for her as Lodge Father. But about four guys say they plan to contest it. On account of my youth, they say.”
His lips thinned and whitened with irritation. Darrin was used to the casual bigotry. He and Jake were the youngest Lodge members, and a lot of the others believed that age alone placed them above him in rank. But none of them were particularly powerful, or skilled, or experienced in things that would help keep the Lodge safe and running. Darrin meanwhile had already seen the Lodge through multiple crises.
He had been groomed by Helga to be her successor, and taught for years the things he would need to do the job right. But now, since he didn't have lines in his face, gray in his hair or a membership length to match the others, some of the older Bears wanted to give him a problem. Just as they often had when Helga had been alive.
“Trouble is, two of them want to go old school and throw down with me in bear form to determine the outcome.”
His voice was tense. It was bullying, plain and simple; Darrin's shift form was a small black bear, outweighed by every other shift form in the Lodge.
“No, that's horseshit. We're not doing succession by combat. This isn't fucking Middle Ages Europe. What are these guys even thinking?” Jake rubbed his face and went over to sit on the corner of the desk, poking through the will briefly. It was eight pages of scary-looking legalese, topped with a letter in Helga's handwriting. The latter was all Jake could bring himself to really look at; the neatly penned lines matched what Darrin was saying. “Helga believed in you just like she believed in me, and she trained you for this. If the other Bears want to feel like they have a choice in the matter, spilling blood won't give them that. It'll just give them a leader who thinks murder is an acceptable act for a would-be ruler.” Jake set the will down again. “If it comes down to it we'll take a damn vote like modern-day Americans.”
Darrin nodded distractedly, grabbing a few folders from the file cabinet and tucking them into the open box at his feet. “I wouldn't mind being voted out, Helga's wishes or no. I'm not exactly attached to the idea of babysitting all these guys. I'm not sure I could fill Helga's shoes as well as she thought--”
“Hey, watch that. She was a smart woman, and she believed in you. Don't insult her memory by second-guessing her decision.”
Jake gently bumped his friend's shoulder with his fist, and Darrin offered another thin, wan smile.
“Sorry. Hard not to when everyone else is.”
“Not everyone else. Just a few loud idiots in the council meetings. The rest are just following them because they've known them longer than they have known you. It's got no bearing on you or your competence.”
“Competence doesn't figure in. I doubt any of them could do the job.”
Darrin's tone was bitter, and then he trailed off. A thoughtful line appeared between his dark brows.
“Something?” Jake leaned forward.
“Just remembering something about the challenge rules. If a guy wants to challenge me to a one on one contest for leadership, I can't back out. But I can choose the type of contest.”
Jake cocked his head slightly. “What did you have in mind?”
“I think that if these guys want to claim they can do the job of Lodge Father better than me, they are going to have to literally prove it. Anyone who challenges me, they can get put to work handling some Lodge problem and see if they can do it better than me.”
Jake let out a laugh. “That's brilliant! So what, each of you gets to be king for a day?”
“A week. Long enough to actually accomplish something.” He closed the file cabinet and sat down at the desk, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “I'm gonna make a list of tasks of about equivalent difficulty. Depending on who pulls what duty, we could get a lot done while working out this conflict— instead of getting nothing done.”
“And if they fuck things up?”
He smiled a real smile back at Jake, who felt a surge of relief.
“I'll clean up their messes and look even shinier to the others as a result.”
“Sounds good!” Jake walked around the room slowly as Darrin typed up his list. “Make someone handle some of my budgeting shit while you're at it. I'm having a hell of a time finding a compromise between what we can afford without raising dues, and what these guys want me to come up with as Lodge perks.”
“I'll do that.”
Darrin typed away while Jake inspected the nearly bare shelves.
A Zuni bear fetish carved from soapstone, turquoise and obsidian gleamed dully from one of them, and Jake reached over and picked it up.
“Hey, what's this?”
Darrin didn't even look up from his typing. “Part of her fetish collection. I just ran out of room in the box. He's planning to sell them at auction, so I don't think he has any emotional attachment to any of them. You want to keep that one?”
Jake looked down at it. Its weight in his hand was solid and comforting, and reminded him of Helga in a way he liked.
“Yeah, think I will.”
It was about the size of a deck of cards - he tucked it away in the pocket of his jeans.
That afternoon, the whole Lodge gathered in Helga's guesting-hall. The cavernous room with its exposed beams, carved wooden doorways and ten-foot-wide round hearth was as warm and woodsmoke-scented as ever. A massive, heavy timber long table lined by high-backed chairs dominated its center. On the far end, Helga's carved wooden high seat sat empty, a sad little hollow still pushed into the furs covering its seat, marking where she had once been. Her absence was everywhere in the room, like a Helga-shaped hole. And in her absence, chaos threatened.
“Well, I don't see why we should give up control of the Lodge to a couple of kids who have barely made the
ir first billion. One of them is still in graduate school! They're too young, they're not successful enough. Why give them the power?”
The speaker was a fat Bear stuffed into a shiny gray pinstripe suit, belly shoved out pompously and red-gray hair curling askew around the edges of his bald spot.
“Maybe because one of them actually owns the Lodge, and because both of them have done more work to protect and maintain the Lodge, and help its members, in one year, than you've done in thirty? Think about that, Paul.” The broad-shouldered, bald Bear in question was one of those they had rescued from Hunters a few months back, and his dark eyes flashed as he sat forward in his seat.
“Oh shut up, you have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I've seen the books, and I've watched what has been happening. We all have. At least those who don't spend all their time drunk... Paul.”
Paul went red and shiny with anger, veins in his neck standing out.
“That's not relevant here! If those kids have expertise, then they should be put to work under one of us with actual experience.”
“Experience in what? Swilling down hundred-buck Scotch like tea?”
Growls erupted. Jake's scowl deepened. He touched Anna's shoulder as she picked at her own sleeve nervously— then turned to look down the table. He stood up and slammed his fist on it hard enough to shake the heavy wood.
“That's enough!”
Heads turned his way, eyes widening. Jake usually went for reason whenever he could. But more and more these days they had discovered that some of the Bears simply didn't respond to anything besides his throwing his weight around.
He glared back at them, folding his arms.
“I'm getting a little tired of having to explain to lazy alcoholics why their leadership would be detrimental to the Lodge in general. And I'll tell you straight up that there's no way in Hell I am ‘working under’ any one of you simply because your hair is grayer and your bank accounts are fatter.”
Paul wobbled to his feet.
“Son, you need to learn some respect for your elders-”
“When my elders behave respectably, they have my respect. You do not. All you are is a greedy, power-hungry opportunist who sees a chance to take advantage of Helga's death. You have no interest in a leader's duty to the Lodge or its members. All you really want is to have someone else do the work while you enjoy having the power.”
Paul was now almost purple.
“Just because you inherited the Lodge from your father-”
“Means that if I wanted to, I could close the whole place down.” A ripple went through the crowd. Jake lifted a finger, his manner imperious. “If you want to be Lodge Father, I'm gonna point out two things. One, you will be expected to be able to get along with me, because like it or not, I own the fucking place and handle its financial matters. And two, you will be expected to work, like Helga did. Also, Paul, I don't know why the hell you're looking down your nose at Darrin and I for only having recently made our first billion, when yours was handed to you by your mommy and daddy when you were eighteen.”
Paul lunged at him with a roar, startling the people between them out of their chairs as he shifted into a large brown bear. Jake braced himself to shift as well— but suddenly a huge gray-brown form bounded between him and the charging drunk. Gray's paw knocked the attacking Paul completely away from the table, sending him skidding into a wall with his torn jowl leaking blood. Jake's brother stood up on his haunches, and growled.
You. Go back to your seat and shift back. Don't make me have to hit you again.
The other bear shook himself, dime-sized drops of blood flying off his jawline.
You should have been kept in a cage, you miserable savage.
Another growl, this one with a dangerous, warning note.
I'm not the one who tried to kill someone in Helga's guesting-hall. Sit. Down.
Jake stood frozen a moment, covering for it with a scowl, and folded his arms as he watched Paul limp to his seat and change back to a man. A few of his comrades had gone from shocked and angry to chuckling at him. As for Gray, he returned to human form and went back to his seat across the table from Jake, glancing at him shyly.
“Sorry.”
“Don't apologize, I appreciate the backup,” Jake replied quietly. “Good on you for not rising to that asshole's bait.”
Because then there really would have been a death in Helga's guesting-hall. Who the hell uses a guy's abuse history to hit out at him? This Paul asshole is a sixty year old infant.
Jake sighed and addressed the others. “Helga's will stated, very clearly, that she wished leadership of the Lodge to fall to myself and Darrin. Not because she wanted to spite you, or remove an opportunity to gain power and influence. But because we are the ones who have actually been doing the job. You're treating the position of Lodge Father like a crown you want to fight for. But what it really is, is a sixty hour a week job, plus being on call, just to tend to the needs and wants of Lodge members and keep this place running. Do any of you genuinely want to devote your lives to this work?”
He looked around at the table. Darrin was busying himself with his laptop, his ears red. Near him, two of the older Bears were muttering together, as if his unusually sharp ears somehow couldn't catch their whole conversation.
Jake's eyes narrowed, but he moved on. From their expressions, he could guess that he had convinced maybe half the floor. But what about the others?
“Now why would we want to do that much work?” drawled a tall, lean African American Bear from the back. Malik was a finance guy, and the smug look on his face was almost perpetual. He went on, steepling his fingers. “Truth is, we don't have to spend our days and nights busting our asses like Helga did until she got sick. As my colleague asserted, we already have two very hard working assistants among our junior members. There's no reason we can't just install one of ourselves in Helga's place, and have you and your little computer-nerd friend there keep doing exactly what you did for her, God rest her soul.”
His voice was cheerful and a little arch, and Jake honestly wondered if he wasn't teasing them.
“Except that neither of us is willing to work for any of you.” Darrin's voice was flat and hard, like a slap. He looked up slowly from his screen. “We helped Helga because she helped us. You simply want to exploit us, like you exploit the Lodge. And meanwhile the Lodge will keep going downhill as a result of your being in it for power instead of service.”
“Service?” Malik laughed. “Service is for lesser men.”
But some of the Bears around him were muttering now too, and some of them eyed him suspiciously.
Considering that Jake and Darrin were talking about doing work that benefited them, and Malik was talking about shirking that work... it didn't make him look very good. But for some reason, he just smiled, his eyes twinkling, as if it was all somewhat of a joke to him.
Jake fought a smirk.
“Those who want to delegate everything, and not put in any effort themselves, you might want to think about how your attitude reflects on you. Having an assistant is one thing. Deciding that actually working at the job of Lodge Father at all is beneath you is quite another.” He looked at the other Bears. “Keep in mind, it's the friends you rely on to support you in your bid for the High Seat that you're saying you're too good to help.” Paul went purple again, his lips tight and his eyes flashing, but Malik simply looked back at him thoughtfully. Jake turned back to the others. “So that's two challengers to Darrin for Lodge Father. Anyone else want to stand up for it?”
Everyone went still in their seats and looked around at each other. No hands were raised. Apparently the other two challengers had decided to drop out.
“Okay. A total of three candidates, then. Now, believe it or not, whatever Helga's will said, it doesn't change the fact that Bear tradition says the leader can be challenged. But here's the deal. You want to call out Darrin, you're going to do it in a way that proves to everyone here that yo
u are a better option than him as leader.”
“What, are we holding elections?” Paul's face had healed, and he was gingerly wiping the blood off of it with a wet napkin. Some of the others perked up at the idea.
“And who else is going to judge the contest?” Jake rubbed his jaw and then looked around at them. “Because there's no goddamned way I'm letting anyone decide to do this with mortal combat. We're supposed to be intelligent and civilized, not willing to tear each other apart in our bids for power.”
“So....” Malik tilted his head, eyes narrowing in what looked like genuine curiosity. “What kind of contest do you have in mind?”
Darrin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, looking around the table with cold eyes. His face only softened as he looked on those around the table whom he cared for - Carly, Anna, Gray, Jake, and Julia.
“This bickering is not only pointless, it is counterproductive,” he said in a low, calm voice that still managed to carry. “If we're going to struggle with each other over who gets the High Seat, it should be in a way that benefits the Lodge with more than some gory popcorn moments.”
“You wouldn't just be saying that because anyone here could kick your ass, would you?” Paul sneered.
Darrin stared at him implacably.
“Try it,” he replied, with icicles hanging off his tone.
Paul stared back at him as if he'd gone crazy. Everyone knew that Darrin's bear form couldn't stand up to a grizzly or big Brown. But it quieted him down.
Jake smirked and settled into his seat, reaching immediately for Anna's hand.
Her fingers were a little cold as they twined with his, but she relaxed slightly at the contact— and so did he.
Darrin went on in that same low, authoritative voice, completely without the tension and worry he had let Jake see earlier. It was one of the best acts Jake had ever seen him put on.
