Werewolves of Ossory

The beast looked at the priest with large and imploring eyes. 'She lies in a place not far from here. I beg you, come and minister to her.'

The creature spoke so earnestly and with such passion that the priest could not find it in his heart to refuse.

'Very well', he said, motioning to the boy to remain where he was by the fire. 'Lead me to where your wife lies and if she is truly a Christian, I will administer the final sacraments to her.' At his words, the wolf sprang up and moved to the very edge of the firelight, waiting for the priest to follow.

'Come then', it said. 'We must make haste for I fear that her hour may be passing even as we speak.' Gathering up his religious books, the priest followed and the wolf made off into the darkness of the wood.

The journey deep into the forest was a dangerous one. The wolf moved swiftly and silently ahead of the old man, and the priest was now sure that any noises that had been made earlier were to alert him to the beast's presence near his fire. The trail that they followed was a difficult path, pitted with holes and deep gullies which the priest often found awkward to negotiate. At length they came to a fork in the trail, marked by a lightning blasted tree. Close by there was a small river flowing and the roots of the ancient oak trailed over into the water.

'Here we are', said the wolf suddenly. The priest squinted in the gloom. There in a small cave among the jumbled roots lay an old she-wolf, as grizzled and thin as her mate. At his approach, she raised her ancient head.

'See, my dear', said the first wolf in a low and soothing voice, 'I have done as I promised and have brought a priest for you.'

Kneeling down, the priest scrambled under the entrance to the cave and squatted beside the she-wolf. There was a great wound on her flank from which part of the shaft of an arrow still stuck out. The priest moved closer to the dying animal.

'Who are you?' he whispered. 'What are you?' The female further licked her head with some difficulty and blood bubbled between her wolf-lips.

'My husband may have already told you', she answered. 'We are the Werewolves of Ossory, condemned to live in this guise for a season. We are sometimes hunted for our pelts which are extremely valuable and I have been wounded by hunters. I desire to die with the Holy Offices of a priest. Hear my confession and grant me your blessing, Father'. The priest nodded hesitantly.

'You think we are evil', went on the she-wolf. 'You think that this is some trick of the Evil One, sent to lure you away from the sacred paths of the Church.' The priest nodded again. 'Yet we readily acknowledge the name of God, of Jesus Christ His Son and of the Virgin Mary. What creature of evil could do that? I tell you that underneath this fearsome form we are as human and as Christian as yourself, Father.' The priest still seemed uncertain.

'What will it take to convince you?' asked the male wolf, rearing up on its hind-legs. 'If I were to walk like a man would that set your mind at rest that we are truly human?' The priest hesitated. 'We will do anything to convince you, if you will hear my wife's confession!' The priest licked his dry lips uneasily.

'You say that you are human', he answered, 'but ... but I see only the animal. And certainly you speak like mortals and yet your words come in the rough grunts of the beast. If ... if I could but see the human which you say lurks beneath the wolf-skin, then my mind would be at rest.'

The female wolf straightened herself painfully. The priest drew back in alarm but then saw that she did not mean to threaten him.

'Very well', she said. 'In the name of the living God, behold my true face.' And she brought her right forepaw to her jaws and began to gnaw and bite at the skin. Blood spurted out and part of the leg fell away to reveal the fingers of a human hand below. Raising the hand to its belly, the female wolf proceeded to rip and tear at the flesh there, pulling it back and opening it as though it was a hairy garment. The wolf-head seemed to fall away like a woollen mask and, beneath skin and membrane, the priest thought that he saw another, human head. This was the head of an old woman, thin and brown-skinned, narrow and with hair plastered across the sides of the face.

'Jesu!' he muttered, crossing himself. The woman's ancient mouth worked to form words. 'There, Father', said the old lady's voice. 'Now do you believe? Beneath that wolf-body we are indeed human.' She worked and tore through sinew and gristle, allowing her liKle head to poke out through.

'Now, Father', said the male wolf. 'You have heard our tale, you know that we are human and are true believers. Will you hear my wife's confession and grant her the absolution for which she craves?' The priest sighed at the horror of it all and at the awfulness of the holy curse which lay upon the old couple. Sometimes, he thought, those who called themselves Christian were far worse in their ways than the pagans whom they sought to convert.

'I will hear your confession', he said slowly and with much sadness in his voice. He bent down as the male wolf moved away into the dark, and listened to the small, halting voice as the old woman made her final confession. Then he made the sign of the cross above her.

'I grant you my absolution', he said. 'Go to meet your maker in peace.' The she-wolf sank down into the darkness with a contented sigh.

'Now, though my body dies in its present form', she whispered, 'my immortal soul shall be with God.' And she laid her head down and sank into a deep and restful sleep.

At first light, the male wolf led the priest back to his campsite where the boy was waiting for him. Later, the beast led the two of them to the very edge of the forest so that they could continue their journey. As they were about to depart, the priest turned to the wolf and said:

'Tell me if you know, will the invader remain in Ireland for much longer?' He asked the question for he imagined that the wolf, being a supernatural creature, might have some knowledge of the future. The animal considered for a while.

'On account of the grievous sins of our nation and the enormous wickedness of the people here, God has inflicted the rule of a foreign enemy upon them. As to whether they will remain, I cannot tell at present. Return to these woods upon your way back from Meath and I may be able to tell you.'

And he bid the priest farewell and loped off back into the forest. The priest called after him that he would return with all possible speed to hear the answer but by that time the wolf had returned to the dark woodland depths. Sadly, the priest turned and continued on his journey.

His business in Meath took him much longer than he had expected and so it was early in the following year before he journeyed back to Ulster. On his way, he stopped in the woods of Ossory but, although he searched, he could not find any sign of the wolf at all. Perhaps he had been killed by hunters or maybe he had moved on. Either way there was not a trace of him to be seen."

From Beasts, Banshees and Brides from the Sea by Bob Curran