Sunset Page 18

  Brook dropped the squirrel and turned to Stormfur. “What’s he talking about?”

  “She didn’t steal it,” Stormfur started to explain. “It’s a RiverClan squirrel. It ran across the Thunderpath, and Brook just—”

  Hawkfrost ignored the grey warrior. “Don’t you know the most basic rules of the warrior code?” he demanded, thrusting his muzzle forward until it was less than a mouse-length from Brook’s. “You don’t steal prey.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Stormfur meowed. “She didn’t steal it. It’s one of ours.”

  Hawkfrost rounded on him, his eyes still sparking with fury. “She shouldn’t have followed it across the border. Doesn’t she even know not to trespass on another Clan’s territory?”

  “I’m sorry,” Brook mewed, still sounding confused. “I barely set paw on the other side—just enough to catch the squirrel.”

  Hawkfrost let out a snort of exasperation. “You obviously have no idea how to behave. What if a ShadowClan patrol had spotted you?”

  “Well, they didn’t, so . . .” Stormfur was obviously trying to smooth his Clanmate’s ruffled fur.

  “No thanks to her,” Hawkfrost interrupted.

  “I’m sorry,” Brook repeated. “When I lived with the Tribe, we didn’t have to worry about boundaries. I’ll remember next time.”

  “If there is a next time,” Hawkfrost retorted.

  “What do you mean?” Brambleclaw saw Stormfur’s neck fur bristle. “Why shouldn’t there be? Brook’s training really hard to be a RiverClan warrior.”

  The big tabby tom’s lips drew back in a sneer. “She’ll never be a RiverClan warrior!” he hissed.

  Brambleclaw swallowed nervously. His half-brother sounded exactly like Tigerstar!

  “And who are you to say that?” Stormfur challenged. “You’re not in charge of us.”

  For a heartbeat Brambleclaw thought that Hawkfrost would lash out and rake his claws across Stormfur’s face. “Just wait and see what happens when I report this to Leopardstar,” he growled. He twitched his tail in the direction of the RiverClan camp. “Come on back to camp. Now.”

  Stormfur and Brook glanced at each other. Stormfur was obviously wondering whether to obey, when his Clanmate had no right to give him orders. Then he shrugged.

  “Come on.” He sighed. “We might as well get this straightened out.”

  Hawkfrost stalked off up the bank; Stormfur followed close behind him. Brook picked up her squirrel again and brought up the rear.

  Once they had disappeared into the ferns at the top of the bank, Brambleclaw cautiously crossed the Thunderpath and padded after them. He wanted to know what was going to happen to his friends. Keeping well back so none of the RiverClan cats would spot him, he followed their tracks. Fortunately the breeze was blowing towards him, so they were unlikely to pick up his scent, and he kept his ears pricked and his mouth half-open in case any other warriors from RiverClan were close by.

  Hawkfrost led the way directly to the RiverClan camp, and leaped the stream close to a hollowed-out place under the bank where Mothwing was sitting with her apprentice, Willowpaw. As he passed the medicine cat, Hawkfrost jerked his head savagely. “Come on, you’re wanted,” he ordered.

  Brambleclaw’s ears twitched in surprise that Hawkfrost would talk like that to his sister. He waited, hidden in a clump of reeds, until Mothwing and the others had gone, and Willow paw was busy sorting through a pile of herbs. He wasn’t sure what to do. He would certainly be spotted if he tried to follow the others right into the RiverClan camp, but he couldn’t just leave his friends in trouble and go home.

  The RiverClan warriors had made their camp on a wedge-shaped patch of ground between two streams. Mothwing’s den was beside the narrower stream, not far from where they joined. Brambleclaw padded along the bank until he passed the thorn barrier that marked the edge of the camp. Cautiously he tasted the air, but he could make out nothing except for the powerful scent of cats from the camp itself.

  A sudden yowl from inside the camp made him decide. He was too worried about what would happen to Stormfur and Brook if he left. Hawkfrost was right about the warrior code not allowing a cat to catch prey in another Clan’s territory, but surely Leopardstar would make allowances for the Tribe cat who was unfamiliar with Clan ways?

  Brambleclaw leaped from the bank to a rock in midstream, water bubbling around his paws. A second leap brought him to the far bank, where he clawed up a beech tree whose branches overhung the thorn barrier. By creeping among the rustling leaves, his claws sunk into the bark to hold him steady, Brambleclaw could look down into the camp.

  Reeds and bushes grew thickly along the banks of both streams, but there was a clear space in the centre of the camp. Leopardstar, the Clan leader, stood there, with her deputy Mistyfoot beside her and several other cats in a ragged circle around them. They were staring at Stormfur and Brook, who stood close together, shifting their paws uneasily. At first Brambleclaw couldn’t see Mothwing.

  Hawkfrost stood in front of his leader. He was in the middle of reporting what had happened. “So this mousebrained excuse for a cat,” he meowed, flicking his tail at Brook, “chased the squirrel across the border into ShadowClan and killed it. And was almost flattened by a monster on the way back. It’s a pity it missed, is all I can say.”

  Brambleclaw was too far away to hear Stormfur’s snarl, but he saw the fur on his neck and shoulders begin to bristle.

  “There’s no need to say things like that.” Leopardstar’s voice was calm. “Brook, is what Hawkfrost says true?”

  Brook dipped her head awkwardly. “Yes, Leopardstar, it’s true. But I didn’t realise that what I did was wrong. It won’t happen again.”

  “It shouldn’t have happened even once.” Brambleclaw’s heart sank as he saw Blackclaw thrusting his way to the front of the crowd. He was one of the most aggressive RiverClan warriors. “Even a kit knows that you don’t cross Clan boundaries.”

  “Did any ShadowClan cats see this?” Leopardstar asked.

  It was Stormfur who replied. “I don’t think so. I didn’t spot any, and you can’t scent anything down there except for Twolegs and their monsters, so they’ll never know we were there.”

  Leopardstar nodded, but before she could speak, Hawkfrost broke in. “It doesn’t matter whether ShadowClan saw her or not. It’s still against the warrior code. No cat has a place here if they don’t know that.”

  A murmur rose from the listening cats; Brambleclaw sank his claws deeper into the tree branch when he realised most of them sounded as if they agreed with Hawkfrost.

  “We should send her back where she came from,” Blackclaw declared.

  Stormfur whipped around to face him. “If she goes, I go.”

  Blackclaw didn’t reply, just opened his jaws in an insolent yawn. Stormfur unsheathed his claws, only to freeze at a sharp command from Mistyfoot.

  “Stormfur, no!” The deputy stepped forward until she stood facing the grey warrior. Her blue eyes were regretful as she continued, “Think carefully, Stormfur. How long do you and Brook plan on staying here, anyway? We are all glad to see you again, but perhaps it’s time you went back to your Tribe.”

  “Yes, get rid of her,” some cat meowed from the back of the crowd. “Stormfur can stay if he likes, but what use is she?”

  “She can’t even fight,” Blackclaw added. “My apprentice could rip her fur off.”

  Stormfur’s eyes gleamed with fury. “Where Brook comes from, the cave-guards fight, and the prey-hunters feed the Tribe. Brook was a prey-hunter. She never had to fight until she came here.”

  “I’m doing my best to learn,” Brook added.

  “You’re doing fine.” Stormfur touched her shoulder with the tip of his tail. “You’ll fight as well as any cat soon.”

  “If she gets the chance,” Blackclaw mewed. “Can’t you see the Clan doesn’t want her here?”

  “Yes, what about Mothwing’s dream?” another voice asked. “StarCl
an told us there are two things that don’t belong in the Clan.”

  Brambleclaw’s belly clenched as he remembered the dream Mothwing had described at the Gathering, of two stones in the stream that looked different from all the others, interrupting the smooth flow of the current. The stream had flowed properly again only after the stones had been washed away. Did that really mean Stormfur and Brook had no place in RiverClan? “Mothwing?” Hawkfrost glanced around. “Mothwing, where are you?”

  The golden tabby rose to her paws. She had been sitting at the back of the cats, and her paws dragged as she padded forward to stand beside her brother.

  “Have StarClan sent you a clearer sign?” Hawkfrost demanded.

  Mothwing hesitated, her head bowed.

  “Well, Mothwing?” Leopardstar prompted, her voice edged with impatience.

  The medicine cat looked up, meeting her brother’s gaze. Her voice was steady as she replied, “No. StarClan have told me nothing. I said at the Gathering that we shouldn’t be too quick to assume we know what the dream meant—if it meant anything. Sometimes a dream is just a dream.”

  Yowls of protest rose from the Clan. “Have you forgotten what I said to you at the Gathering?” Hawkfrost snarled.

  “No, but—” Mothwing began, breaking off as Leopardstar interrupted her.

  “Mothwing, you are the medicine cat. You need to tell us what to do.”

  “I’m sorry.” Mothwing’s head dropped again.

  “The dream seems clear enough to me,” Blackclaw snarled. “Nothing will be right in RiverClan unless we get rid of these two.”

  Murmurs of agreement filled the clearing. Leopardstar glanced at Mistyfoot and said something to her deputy, too quietly for Brambleclaw to hear. Meanwhile Hawkfrost padded across to Stormfur until the two cats stood nose to nose. “You obviously have no respect for the warrior code, either of you,” he rasped. “Go back to the Tribe, where you belong.”

  Stormfur let out a yowl of pure fury. Leaping at Hawkfrost, he bowled the huge tabby over and battered at his belly with his powerful hind paws, clawing out tufts of fur. Hawkfrost retaliated by sinking his claws into Stormfur’s shoulders and trying to bite his throat.

  “No!” Brook screeched, trying to thrust herself between the two battling warriors. “Stormfur, stop!”

  Brambleclaw raked his claws along the branch. Every hair on his pelt was telling him to hurl himself out of the tree and join in the fight on Stormfur’s side, but he had to stay where he was. It would just cause even more trouble, and Firestar would be furious if one of his warriors launched an attack in another Clan’s camp.

  Below, Stormfur was holding his own, ignoring Brook’s pleas to stop as he slashed his claws along Hawkfrost’s side. The tabby warrior flailed under Stormfur’s weight, doing little more than shielding his face with his paws. Brambleclaw’s eyes narrowed; surely Hawkfrost could fight better than this? Their training sessions with Tigerstar had made him stronger and more skilful than any cat in the forest, except perhaps Brambleclaw himself. Now, instead of throwing himself into the fight, he was trying to dodge Stormfur’s attack, and his few blows were feeble and badly aimed.

  Brambleclaw knew exactly what he was doing.

  Hawkfrost didn’t want to beat Stormfur in a fight; he wanted him gone for good. He must have been turning his Clanmates against the visitors for a long time. At the Gathering he had been the one to insist that Mothwing tell her dream, and he had interpreted it for her. Brook’s mistake with the squirrel had given him the excuse he needed, and now he had provoked Stormfur into attacking him so the others would drive him out.

  Part of Brambleclaw admired his half-brother’s cunning and the force of his ambition. Tigerstar would be proud of him. But Brambleclaw knew he would never have the courage to make such a blatant bid for power himself. Could this really be part of the warrior code?

  “Enough!” Leopardstar snapped. “Mistyfoot, Blackclaw, pull them apart.”

  The RiverClan deputy leaped onto Hawkfrost’s shoulders and wrenched his head back. Blackclaw pushed Brook aside and raked his claws across Stormfur’s nose; the grey warrior reared back, losing his grip on Hawkfrost. Both cats scrambled to their paws and stood panting, glaring at each other. Blood was oozing from Hawkfrost’s belly and his side. Stormfur had no obvious wounds, except for blood spattering his muzzle from Blackclaw’s blow.

  “Stormfur, you attacked your Clanmate!” Leopardstar sounded deeply shocked. “It’s obvious you have forgotten the warrior code, or else it doesn’t mean anything to you any more.”

  Stormfur opened his mouth to speak, but Leopardstar swept on. There was genuine regret in her voice as she meowed, “You will have to leave RiverClan. There is no place for you here. Your path lies with the Tribe now.”

  Stormfur and Brook exchanged an appalled glance, and Brambleclaw wondered what was so terrible about having to return to Brook’s mountain home.

  For a heartbeat he thought Stormfur would protest. Then the grey warrior lifted his head proudly. “Very well.” His voice was cold. “We’ll go. But it’s RiverClan’s loss, not ours. This isn’t the same Clan I once belonged to.”

  He swept his tail around to draw Brook close to him. Without looking back, the two cats padded out of the clearing and vanished into the undergrowth.

  Hawkfrost watched them go, triumph glittering in his ice-blue eyes.

  Anxious not to be discovered, Brambleclaw climbed down the tree, crossed the stream again, and slipped into the under-growth, heading for the lake. The scene he had just witnessed had pushed his mission from Firestar to the back of his mind. All he wanted to do now was speak to Stormfur.

  Halfway to the waterside he stopped to taste the air, picking up the mingled scents of Stormfur and Brook, so strong and fresh that he knew they were nearby. Scrambling up a low hill, he spotted them further down the other side. They were heading for the lake, their heads hanging low and their tails twined together.

  Brambleclaw didn’t dare call out to them this close to the RiverClan camp. Alert for any sounds of pursuit, he followed them, flitting from one clump of ferns or hazel bush to the next. He caught up to them on the shore not far from the tree-bridge that led to the Gathering island.

  “Stormfur!” he hissed. “Wait!”

  Brook jumped, while Stormfur whipped round to face Brambleclaw, his claws unsheathed and his neck fur bristling.

  “Brambleclaw!” he exclaimed. “I thought you were that mangy, crow-food-eating—”

  He broke off when Brook touched his shoulder with her tail. “Don’t,” she murmured. “That won’t help.”

  Stormfur let out a sigh, allowing the fur on his neck and shoulders to lie flat again. “What are you doing in RiverClan territory?” he asked Brambleclaw.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Brambleclaw replied. He retreated further from the water’s edge, beckoning with his tail for Stormfur and Brook to follow until they reached the shelter of a twisted thornbush where they could talk without being seen. “I saw what happened,” he meowed. “And I’m really sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “Hawkfrost has been out to cause trouble ever since I came back to RiverClan,” Stormfur snarled. “He’s afraid that if I stayed, Mistyfoot would choose me for deputy once she becomes leader.”

  Brambleclaw wasn’t surprised; Hawkfrost had been deputy once before, while Mistyfoot was trapped by Twolegs, but at that time Stormfur had been on the journey to the sun-drown-place. Once he had settled into his Clan again, he would have been a formidable rival.

  “Will you go back to the mountains?” he asked.

  “That’s not possible right now,” Stormfur replied. He sounded awkward, not meeting Brambleclaw’s eyes.

  Brambleclaw didn’t press him. He suspected something was wrong and wanted to know more, but he knew Stormfur wouldn’t tell him until he was ready. “Why don’t you come back to ThunderClan with me?” he suggested. “Firestar will be glad to give you food and shelter for tonight at least.”

&
nbsp; Stormfur’s whiskers twitched. “We can’t do that,” he meowed. “It would only cause trouble for you with RiverClan.”

  “Firestar doesn’t ask other Clans to approve what he does,” Brambleclaw pointed out. If Stormfur and Brook couldn’t go back to the Tribe, their only other choice might be to become loners, and live outside the protection of any Clan. It was a hard and difficult life, especially for cats who were used to living among others. “Come on,” he urged. “It’s too late to go far before nightfall anyway, especially when you don’t know the territory well.”

  Stormfur turned to Brook. “What do you think?”

  “You decide,” she murmured, pressing her muzzle into Stormfur’s shoulder. “You know I’ll come with you wherever you go.”

  Stormfur closed his eyes for a moment as if he were bracing himself. “All right,” he meowed to Brambleclaw, opening his eyes again. “We’ll go back with you. Come on, Brook.”

  Brambleclaw led the way down to the lakeshore and headed back towards ThunderClan territory, taking the route through WindClan this time. As they padded along, heavy-footed with shock and exhaustion, he thought about what he had seen and overheard in the RiverClan camp.

  “You know,” he mewed to Stormfur as they were passing the horseplace, “Hawkfrost had a point. You shouldn’t have attacked him.”

  “I know, I know.” Stormfur lashed his tail. “But he goaded me into it. He meant for me to attack him, and you know that as well as I do.”

  Brambleclaw didn’t know how to respond. In his heart he knew Stormfur was right, but he also knew why Hawkfrost had done it.

  Before he could speak, Stormfur halted and faced him. “Brambleclaw, be careful,” he warned quietly. “The path you walk can only lead to trouble.”

  Brambleclaw stared at him, a hot flush of guilt soaking through his pelt. There was no way Stormfur could know about Brambleclaw’s meetings with Hawkfrost in dreams, or their training sessions with Tigerstar. Did he realise Brambleclaw was closer to his half-brother than some cats might think?

  Stormfur twitched his ears as if he were flicking away a fly. Without saying anything else he turned away and plodded on around the lake.