Эрин Хантер - Battles of the Clans

Spiderfoot gazed at me for a moment more, as if he couldn’t believe I was letting him go, just like that. Then he spun around and fled, leaving deep scores in the dust.

I followed him more slowly down to the floor of the nest. Blackclaw, Dawnflower, and Reedwhisker were waiting for me with their mouths open.

“You missed a chance to show ShadowClan just how fierce RiverClan can be,” Blackclaw spat.

I looked steadily at him. “The warrior code says that we do not have to kill to achieve victory.

Having mercy on your enemy, and sparing him to fight another day, shows the greatest courage of all.

Where is the honor in winning four against one?”

I padded toward the entrance. Already I could hear more cats approaching. “Come,” I meowed to my Clanmates. “One battle has been won, but the war is not yet over.”

Iwas born in the Twolegplace beside the forest where the Clans used to live. My mother was a stray, and never spoke of living with Twolegs, although her coat was soft enough that it wasn’t hard to imagine she had once lived in a red stone nest and been a plump, spoiled kittypet. My littermates and I learned to fight by doing battle with one another amid the looming walls and bright green grass of Twolegplace, keeping out of the way of dogs and other cats, coming out only at night, when the alleyways were quiet and empty.

By the time I was full-grown, two of my brothers had been killed on the Thunderpaths, and my sister had chosen to live with Twolegs. I saw her sometimes, sprawled on flat white stones outside her housefolk’s nest, or licking her plump belly, her fur stinking of kittypet slop. I was left alone, stealing food from Twoleg scraps, hiding from cats who would have ripped my pelt off for the sake of a chicken bone. Some cats talked to me, when we all had full bellies or were too weak with hunger to fight. They told me that they were exiles from ShadowClan, chased out of their home for breaking the rules of the warrior code. They told me about how the code had once kept them safe and strong and bound in loyalty to the cats who shared their territory. I envied those cats, and secretly thought the exiles were fools to have thrown away what they had before.

Then another cat came to the Twolegplace. Tall, dark furred, with muscles rippling across his wide shoulders. “My name is Tigerclaw,” he told us. “And I need your help.”

He came from a different territory from the exiled cats, one that belonged to ThunderClan. The current leader, Bluestar, was weak, and as her deputy, Tigerclaw stood to take over if she died.

Bluestar was also holding a brave and noble cat prisoner—ShadowClan’s former leader, Brokentail, who had once been the most feared cat of all the Clans but was now blind and wretched.

“Join me,” Tigerclaw urged. “Fight beside me, kill Bluestar, and ThunderClan will look to us to lead them instead. Brokentail will be honored as he should be, and we will make our Clan stronger than any other. Our new Clanmates will thank us for getting rid of their frail and mistrustful leader, and we’ll have food and shelter for the rest of our lives.” As he spoke, his burning amber eyes rested on me, and I felt my fur tingle.

“The cat who kills the flame-colored warrior Fireheart will have a special place in my Clan.

Destroy him, and you will walk beside me as my deputy.”

I felt as though I had finally come home. I could be a warrior, protecting my Clanmates, serving my leader, earning his respect by getting rid of the cats who weakened our Clan and made our territory vulnerable. I would kill Fireheart!

We ran through the forest, thirsty for blood, bristling with rage against this foolish Clan that clung to their failing leader like moss to a rotten tree. Tigerclaw led us along invisible trails through the undergrowth; brambles raked my ears, but I didn’t care, not even when the salty tang of blood flicked against my muzzle. I would shed more blood than this to fight for Tigerclaw!

Suddenly the ground dropped away in front of us, and Tigerclaw plunged into a ravine that seemed to be full of nothing but prickly bushes and a few smooth gray boulders. We thrust our way through a tunnel of gorse behind him, and burst out into a sandy clearing, circled by bushes that smelled strongly of cats. Faces popped out around us, wide-eyed with horror.

“Invaders!” screeched a she-cat, spinning around and diving back into a clump of brambles. I eyed the savage thorns warily, and decided not to follow. More cats leaped out of the undergrowth, sleek and shiny and strong. These must be ThunderClan’s warriors , I thought. But there’s only one I’m interested in .

I scanned the clearing for a cat the color of flame. Only tabbies and shades of brown stood out against the green branches.

“ThunderClan! Enemies! Attack!” yowled Tigerclaw, and to my astonishment, he sprang at the cat who had run closest to him through the forest and wrestled him to the ground.

Was it a trap? Had he lured us here to ambush us with his Clanmates? What had we done to them to deserve this?

Then I realized that the cat sprawled beneath Tigerclaw wasn’t shrieking in pain; in fact, Tigerclaw’s paws were round and smooth, claws sheathed, and when he bit down on the cat’s neck, he curled his lips over his sharp teeth. This must be part of the plan! Tigerclaw wanted his Clanmates to believe that he was fighting alongside them!

All around me, the cats from the Twolegplace grappled with Clan warriors, yowling and spitting and slashing with their claws. On the far side of the clearing, a massive black tom with clouded eyes jumped onto the back of a small dirt-colored cat and started battering his ears. That must be Brokentail . I started to go over to help, but stopped when a flash of orange caught my eye. I spun around and stared at the ginger tom leaping across the clearing from the gorse tunnel. Fireheart!

I lengthened my stride and crashed into him, stretching out my front paws to run my claws down his flank. He shrieked and whirled to face me. Furious green eyes stared into mine, and he lunged toward me with his teeth bared. I knocked him away with a thrust of my head, then sank my claws into his ear and felt the thin flesh tear satisfyingly. Fireheart fell sideways, leaving his pale orange belly open to the sky. One slice with my claws and Tigerclaw would have to make good on his promise…

Pain shot through my tail and I let out a screech. Whipping around, I saw a golden brown tom clinging to the tip with his teeth. He looked younger than the other warriors by several moons, his fur still kit-soft around his face, but the determination in his eyes made me flinch. I tried to back away but he didn’t let go, and the agony in my tail made my eyes close for a moment. Behind me, I heard Fireheart scramble to his paws, out of reach. I couldn’t fight them both. I clawed myself across the clearing, heading for the gorse. The young cat kept his jaws locked around my tail until I felt the bone splinter. With a final desperate haul, I made it to the tunnel. The cat released his grip and sprang away. Dazed with pain, I crawled into the gorse and fled, dragging my bleeding tail behind me.

Tigerclaw lost the battle. I made it back to the Twolegplace, where I hid behind a pile of stinking waste for two days, terrified that ThunderClan warriors would hunt me down, too scared to venture out for food or water. Finally, one of the exiled ShadowClan cats found me and saved my life by bringing me a scrawny bird that he’d found dead by the side of a Thunderpath. He said that warriors from the other side of the river came and helped drive out the invading cats. Tigerclaw had been forced out of the Clan a day later, and vanished. The ShadowClan cat sounded disappointed that Tigerclaw hadn’t come looking for him again.