Colban finds an unfledged bird

Sigefrith cracked a twig from a nearby branch and twisted it idly in his hands as he followed Colban down the path to the garden. He had not lived long enough at the castle for the garden to have become indissociable from Maud, and so he was one of the few people who still came there, although only at the request of Colban. He lacked the imagination necessary to believe in ghosts, in any event.

“Slow down, Cubby!” he called as the boy rounded the corner at a run and disappeared behind the wall. Colban was not the ball of fire that Britamund was, but he still had more energy than many children of nearly four, and Sigefrith was particularly exhausted from his baby son’s frequent nighttime awakenings.

“Uh oh!” the small voice cheeped from behind the wall. “Sigefrith, what’s this?”

Sigefrith came around the wall and found the boy squatting over something that lay in the flowers beneath a bush. “Let me see, Cubby.”

It was a baby bird, only half-​​fledged, and apparently dead.

“It’s a dead baby bird,” he said. “It must have fallen out of its nest.”

Colban stared mournfully at it for a moment. “Why didn’t he fly?”

“He was too young to fly. You see, he didn’t have his wings yet.”

“Did he die because he fell?”

“I suppose so.”

“My Mama died because she fell,” he mumbled. “I saw.”

Sigefrith kneeled beside him. It was the first time he had heard the boy speak of his mother since her death.

“She didn’t have her wings yet,” the boy explained, “but now she does, because she’s an angel. Papa says.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Know what? I think we should put this bird in the ground, so the dogs don’t eat him. Because my Mama said the dogs would eat her when she died, but they don’t because we put her in the ground, and put a big stone so the dogs can’t dig. That’s why. Papa says.”

“We can bury him if you like.”

“And put a big stone.”

“And put a big stone,” Sigefrith agreed.

Colban put his finger into his mouth and twisted it, as he liked to do when he was being thoughtful. “Know what?” he asked after a while.

“What?”

“I don’t think this bird fell.”

“Why not?”

“I think his Mama pushed him,” he said firmly.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so.”

“I think so. Because his brothers and sisters was good and he was bad.”

“No, I don’t think so at all.”

“Take me in!” he pleaded suddenly, lifting his arms.

Sigefrith scooped him up and stood.

“You can put him in the ground later,” Colban mumbled into his neck.

“I shall. I promise.”