The Owl Killers

january

spanish martyr and the patron saint of drunkards, he refused to sacrifice to heathen gods and was roasted on a gridiron and left in the stocks to die. six ancient english churches bear his name.

iT WAS THE HIGHEST TREE I’d ever climbed. I could see forever, right over Ulewic and the hills beyond it. I was balancing on the branch and I wasn’t even holding on. I just had my hand pressed against rough bark above, but I wasn’t gripping it, just resting my hand. I could walk that branch without holding on if I wanted, but I wasn’t going to, not yet.

There’d be a fair next May Day, I knew there would be. The tumblers would come again and this time they’d take me. I’d be ready by then; if I practised all winter, when the spring came, I’d show them. I’d show everyone. I’d steal Father’s big sharp knife and cut the webs between my fingers and then Ulewic would have to let me go, for I wouldn’t belong here anymore. With the tumblers I’d travel way beyond the hills to castles and towns bigger even than the forest. And one day we’d come back here to the fair. I’d be wearing a red and gold costume and William wouldn’t even recognise me and I wouldn’t even speak to him, not once.

I’d walk the whole length of the springy pole and when the two men holding the pole on their shoulders bounced it upwards, I’d somersault and land on it again, my fingers spread wide like flowers. Everyone would cheer, especially William; then I’d speak to him, but only so he’d know it was me.

I’d be rich then. Father would beg me to stay the night in the cottage and say that I could have all the best bits from the pot and tell William he’d have to sleep on the floor, but I’d not go. I’d be feasted at the Manor. Father and William would have to wait in the rain in the courtyard outside. If they were nice to me, I’d have a few scraps sent out to them from the table, but only if they were really nice, otherwise I wouldn’t.

“Get down here, Pisspuddle!”

The sudden shout startled me. I slipped, grabbed for the branch, and hauled myself back up again. My knees stung like fire, skinned on the rough bark. It hurt. It was all his stupid fault, bellowing like that. He made me slip. I hated him.

“I’ll leave you here in the dark by yourself and the Owlman’ll get you!” William bellowed.

“No, wait, I’m coming, William, don’t go.”

I looked round trying to find the quickest way down. I couldn’t remember how I got up here.

“I’m going right now!”

Below me I could see him walking away from the tree.

“No, wait, wait. Look, the sea fog is coming in again. I can see it from here. Look, William, look!”

A thick mist was rolling across the fields, tumbling over itself, sliding along the ground, then rearing up again.

“This’d better not be one of your games.” William swung himself up into the tree and quickly reached the branch below me. He was good at climbing.

“Isn’t, look there.”

The huge wall of fog drifted beyond the village. William sniffed the air and slapped me across my head. I had to grab on tight with both hands to stop myself falling off.

“What did you do that for?”

“You wouldn’t know it if your own arse was on fire. That’s no fog. That’s smoke that is, you daft beggar.”

“What’s afire?”

William shrugged. “House of women, I reckon.”

“Are they burning the women too?”

“Lettice says they’re gone.” William craned to get a better view. “She said Father Ulfrid went out there and there wasn’t a soul left. It was like they’d all vanished in the night.”

The girl they were going to burn was gone too. The door of the jail was still locked, but there was a big hole in the roof. Father Ulfrid said the Owlman had come in the night and torn the roof open with his talons. He ripped her heart out of her chest with his beak and ate it right in front of her while it was still beating. Then he carried her soul straight to Hell in case she repented in the flames and Satan was cheated of her. Father Ulfrid said she was his greatest prize because she was so wicked, but I didn’t believe she was wicked at all.

I was sorry they’d gone. Servant Martha hadn’t got angry when I gave her the hair and the feather. She held them in her hands for a long time staring at them, and then she said softly as if she was remembering something,

“He has freely given me my free will. How easily we forget that we have chosen what we are and can choose what we will become…”

She looked at me then and gave a tiny sad smile. I’d never seen her smile before. “Remember to choose, child.”

William whacked my leg. “C’mon, we’ve got to get going. It’ll be dark soon. What did you have to climb up here for anyway, you daft beggar? You’ll fall.”

He held my ankle and pushed my foot down safely onto the next branch, then the next, till I was down.

Mostly I hated William, but sometimes since Mam got taken and Father went strange, he looked out for me. Sometimes it felt like William was all I’d got left. It was just the two of us now. When the tumblers came in spring, maybe I’d take him with me. William didn’t have a web. So we could run away together, far, far away and nothing could ever pull us back to Ulewic. Maybe that’s what we’d choose to do one day, very soon.