Эрин Хантер - Crowfeather's Trial

It’ll be hard to convince him, he thought, and it’s going to be even harder to convince Bramblestar, after he was insulted when he came here to talk to Onestar—not to mention hearing from Ivypool that WindClan trespassed on his territory. But ThunderClan is the obvious choice to ask. They’re closest.

Crowfeather rose to his paws. “Leave this to me,” he meowed.

His paws prickling with apprehension, Crowfeather padded over to his Clan leader. He couldn’t forget that he had only just been allowed back into the Clan, and part of the reason he’d been banished was because he had asked for help from ThunderClan. And now he was about to ask permission to do the same.

I’ll have to tread really carefully. . . .

“Well?” Onestar asked, turning toward him as Crowfeather approached. His voice and his expression were as icy as a frost-bound stream. “What is it now?”

“I’m sorry for persuading Breezepelt and the others to leave camp,” Crowfeather began, hoping that he could bring Onestar into a better mood. “I only did it because I was so worried about Nightcloud. Once I was sure she was alive, I just couldn’t leave her to fend for herself, or let my son go on suffering, wondering if she was out there somewhere, in pain. But now I see that what we did left the Clan vulnerable.”

A growl rose from deep in Onestar’s throat; clearly the Clan leader was unimpressed by Crowfeather’s apology. But Crowfeather was relieved to see that at least he seemed to be listening.

“I’ve been thinking about what we ought to do now,” Crowfeather continued. “We only have one medicine cat, and he’s overstretched. If we’re not careful, he’s going to collapse. We need to ask medicine cats from other Clans to help us.”

Onestar’s tail shot straight up in the air, and he bristled until each hair on his pelt looked like a hedgehog’s spike. “Do you have bees in your brain?” he demanded. “Haven’t you learned anything? How bad will it look, to ask for ThunderClan’s help after I sent them away? Do you want WindClan to seem weak?”

“WindClan is weak at the moment,” Crowfeather retorted. “We need more skilled cats and more herbs. Okay, we might have to ask ThunderClan’s forgiveness, but surely it’s worth a bit of groveling? Please , Onestar. Cats’ lives are at stake.”

Onestar was silent, but he let his tail relax and flexed his claws indecisively.

“Isn’t protecting WindClan the most important thing?” Crowfeather prompted him. “Emberfoot has a serious wound and needs poppy seed for the pain, but Kestrelflight just used the last of it. Whiskernose and Sedgewhisker need poultices, but there’s no cobweb left to hold them in place. Kestrelflight can’t go looking for supplies and treat the wounded.”

While he was speaking, Crowfeather saw Onestar’s hostile expression gradually change, and his fur lie flat again. For a few heartbeats he still said nothing, gazing thoughtfully at his paws. Aware of the moments slipping by, Crowfeather wanted to press him for an answer, but he realized that the most sensible thing he could do just then was to keep his mouth shut.

At last Onestar gave a slow, reluctant nod. “Very well,” he mewed. “I’ll send cats to RiverClan to ask for Mothwing’s help.”

“And ThunderClan,” Crowfeather added. Though he wasn’t surprised that Onestar wanted to avoid apologizing to Bramblestar, he knew that one Clan’s help might not be enough. “They are close too, and we need all the help we can get.”

Onestar sighed, his gaze probing deep into Crowfeather’s eyes. “That’s true enough. All right,” he agreed. “If you think you can convince them . . . very well. You may go.”

Crowfeather dipped his head in thanks to Onestar. As he turned away, he couldn’t help feeling pleased: That had been a difficult conversation, but he’d gotten through it successfully.

And it’s a good thing, he thought, because this next conversation is going to be even harder. . . .

CHAPTER 26

Crowfeather bounded across the moor with Harespring at his side, wondering what he could say to Bramblestar. Hope of finding help for his Clan had given him fresh energy, and he felt that he could face ThunderClan whatever happened. Knowing that Breezepelt and Gorsetail were on their way to RiverClan strengthened him, too. Mistystar had no reason to be hostile to WindClan, so they could at least count on her to send Mothwing or Willowshine. No WindClan cats will die today.

Reaching the border stream, Crowfeather and Harespring halted. “We’d better wait for a patrol,” Crowfeather meowed, peering into the trees at the opposite side. “We don’t want to start off by trespassing. That would really get under their fur.”

Harespring didn’t reply, though Crowfeather became aware that the deputy was gazing at him. He turned toward him and saw that Harespring was shaking his head slightly. “What?” he asked.

“You’re more optimistic than I am, if you think you can convince ThunderClan to help us after the way Bramblestar and Onestar confronted each other,” Harespring responded. “What were you thinking , going to ThunderClan without Onestar’s permission?”

“I was thinking that I wanted to do what was right for WindClan,” Crowfeather replied. “Even if that wasn’t what Onestar wanted. Isn’t the whole Clan more important than any one cat—even if that cat is the Clan leader?”

“Of course it is.” Harespring sat down at the edge of the stream, flicking his ears thoughtfully. “But Onestar is our leader. We might disagree with him, but in the end we must listen to him.”

Crowfeather blinked at Harespring, realizing he had nothing to say to that. “I suppose going to ThunderClan wasn’t my smartest move,” he meowed. He hesitated before he went on, knowing there was something he had to say to Harespring, however much he might not like admitting it. “Onestar was right to make you his deputy, Harespring. I know now that I still have more to learn.”

Harespring’s whiskers arched in surprise. “I’ve always felt it should have been you, Crowfeather. I’m glad you feel you can accept me.”

Crowfeather dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Anyway,” he added, trying to lighten the mood, “you must have bees in your brain if you think that ThunderClan would turn down the chance to get tangled up in another Clan’s affairs.”

Harespring’s tail curled up in amusement. “You could be right,” he agreed.

“Leafpool will help, if I can only meet with her,” Crowfeather mewed, hoping that he would be able to speak to Leafpool this time. Jayfeather will be even more hostile now, if we have to plead with him.

Harespring hesitated before replying, and Crowfeather thought he was looking slightly awkward. His paws shifted uncomfortably, and when he spoke, his voice was a low murmur. “Is it strange,” he asked eventually, “talking to Leafpool after all this time? I know that you two used to be close.”

“Close”? That’s putting it mildly! Crowfeather thought. Do I still have feelings for Leafpool? But then he thought of all that had happened in the seasons they’d been apart. They led separate lives now, and the idea of being together seemed even more impossible than it had seasons ago, when they’d tried to run away. He no longer felt an ache when he imagined Leafpool without him. Now he felt only admiration, and hope that she was happy.

He shrugged. “All that is in the past,” he replied. “But I still respect Leafpool, and I think she’ll want to help a Clan in need.”

Deep in conversation with Harespring, Crowfeather was startled a moment later when a ThunderClan patrol emerged from the other side of a nettle patch. Poppyfrost was in the lead, with her apprentice, Lilypaw, while Birchfall brought up the rear. Crowfeather realized that while he and the deputy had been talking, he had forgotten to keep watch on the far bank of the stream. Mouse-brain! he scolded himself.