The First Battle Page 6

  A soft murmuring woke Gray Wing out of a light sleep. He blinked open his eyes and peered over the edge of his nest. He could see no one, but soft mews sounded beside the tunnel entrance.

  “We can’t talk here.” He recognized Rainswept Flower’s anxious voice. “We’ll wake Gray Wing.”

  “Come outside.”

  Jagged Peak? What were the two cats up to?

  Gray Wing lifted his head, unease moving in his belly, and watched them move like shadows across the camp and slip out through the gap in the heather.

  Slowly, he untangled himself from the kits and tipped them toward Turtle Tail.

  “Gray Wing?” Pebble Heart mewed sleepily, his eyes closed.

  “I’ll be back in a moment,” he whispered. He hopped from his nest and padded noiselessly around the edge of the clearing, keeping to the shadows until he reached the gap in the heather. He halted and pricked his ears.

  Rainswept Flower and Jagged Peak were talking beyond the thick wall.

  “We’ve got to make Clear Sky see reason!” Rainswept Flower hissed.

  “Talking to him won’t work,” Jagged Peak whispered. “Gray Wing still thinks of him as the brother he knew in the mountains. But Clear Sky’s changed. I’ve seen how heartless he’s become.” Bitterness hardened the young tom’s mew.

  Gray Wing swallowed back a sigh. Would Jagged Peak never forgive their brother for sending him away?

  Jagged Peak went on. “If Gray Wing turns up in Clear Sky’s camp and challenges his authority, he’ll just make things worse. Clear Sky will be furious. I don’t think Gray Wing understands the danger he’s putting himself in.”

  “The danger he’s putting us all in,” Rainswept Flower added. “The angrier Clear Sky is, the more dangerous he’ll become.”

  Gray Wing stiffened. Why hadn’t they come to him to share these worries? Should he step from the shadows and confront them? No. He had to hear what they truly thought, not what they guessed he wanted to hear. He leaned deeper into the heather.

  “Gray Wing’s the last cat who should try to talk with Clear Sky,” Jagged Peak fretted. “So much has happened between them. Clear Sky will never see past his anger.”

  “But we have to do something,” Rainswept Flower argued. “Or Clear Sky will keep taking territory until there’s nothing left.”

  “Clear Sky needs to speak to a cat who can remind him who he used to be,” Jagged Peak murmured. “Someone who can show him how much he’s changed. And what he’s become.”

  “Someone like you?” Rainswept Flower suggested hopefully.

  “No,” Jagged Peak answered sharply. “I’m lame now. Clear Sky thinks I’m no better than prey.”

  “Then who?”

  Gray Wing held his breath. Why don’t they trust me? I know I can change Clear Sky’s mind!

  Jagged Peak’s hushed mew sounded through the heather. “What about you?”

  Rainswept Flower gasped. “Me?”

  “Clear Sky has always respected you,” Jagged peak pressed. “You’ve known each other all your lives but you’ve hardly spoken since he’s changed. Talking to you might remind him of his old self.” He paused for a moment, then added, “You were a friend of Bright Stream.”

  Grief stabbed Gray Wing’s heart at the name. Bright Stream had been Clear Sky’s first love. She’d been carrying Clear Sky’s kits when she’d died. Memories flooded Gray Wing so powerfully that he could hardly breathe. Guilt seared his pelt. She had been killed by an eagle while she’d been hunting with him and Clear Sky. Between them, they’d let her die.

  “I don’t know, Jagged Peak.” Rainswept Flower sounded doubtful. “I don’t think he’ll care what I have to say.”

  “But you’ll think about it?” Jagged Peak coaxed.

  “I’ll think about it,” Rainswept Flower conceded.

  Their paw steps brushed the grass. Gray Wing pressed himself into the heather, until shadow swallowed him. Holding his breath, he stood like a stone while Jagged Peak and Rainswept Flower padded into camp. He waited until they’d settled in their nests, then waited some more. His thoughts whirled. Was Jagged Peak right? Had too much happened between him and Clear Sky for words to make any difference?

  No! We are brothers! Nothing can change that. Surely, everything they’d been through must bind them tighter, not push them apart?

  Gray Wing slid from the heather. Jagged Peak’s wrong . . . Clear Sky will listen to me.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Hurry up, Alder!” Clear Sky pounded down the slope. He leaped the ditch at the bottom and, landing smoothly, glanced over his shoulder.

  Birch was galloping toward him, his small paws sending leaf litter flying. Alder raced behind, half-running, half-slithering down the slope, no bigger than a baby rabbit. She looked more like prey than a hunter.

  She has to grow up sometime.

  Clear Sky pushed on, climbing the rise beyond, pleasure pulsing beneath his fur. Petal had begged him not to take the kits out to train. Worry-worm! He had told her that, in the mountains, kits were fighting snowstorms by the time they were two moons old. He couldn’t let the forest make his cats soft.

  “Birch! Help!” A small thud made Clear Sky turn.

  Alder had disappeared.

  Birch was leaning into the ditch, tugging something. With a grunt, he heaved his littermate out by her scruff and let go. “Are you okay?”

  Alder scrambled to her paws and shook out her short, fluffy fur. “I’m fine.”

  “Hurry up, you two!” Clear Sky rolled his eyes. Were they going to fall into every ditch between here and the big beech tree?

  “Can we go slower?” Birch called up the slope.

  Is that possible? “Slow cats get caught!” Clear Sky called back. He wasn’t going to indulge them. They’d have to toughen up. He turned and ran.

  He was hardly out of breath by the time he reached the big beech. It towered above the other trees in this part of the forest. He stopped at its thick roots and waited for the kits to catch up. Above him, birds twittered in the bright green canopy. Beyond, sunlight glimmered.

  Clear Sky pricked his ears impatiently. At last he heard small paws thrumming over the dry earth. A moment later, Birch and Alder hurtled from a clump of ferns and began scrambling up the slope toward him. Their pelts were slick against their bodies, scraped flat by ferns and brambles, their ears pressed to their head.

  “We made it!” Birch stumbled, puffing, to a halt in front of Clear Sky.

  Alder stopped a tail-length behind, her flanks heaving.

  “You took your time.”

  “We couldn’t run any faster,” Alder panted.

  “Our legs aren’t as long as yours,” Birch pointed out.

  “But you’re not carrying much weight,” Clear Sky countered. He padded around the kits as they struggled to get their breath back. “Not yet, anyway.” Was he being too hard on them? “If you keep training, one day you might be as strong as me.”

  “Or stronger!” Birch stared at him, eyes bright.

  Clear Sky grunted. “I doubt it.” He stopped and lifted his gaze. The warm season had wrapped the forest in a green haze. He flicked Birch’s spine with his tail-tip. “Wait here.”

  “By himself?” Alder nosed past her brother.

  “Of course!” Clear Sky thrust his muzzle close to hers, stifling a purr of amusement as she leaped back in surprise. “You’re coming with me. We’re going to play hide-and-seek.”

  Alder blinked. “Hide-and-seek?”

  Birch frowned. “I thought you were going to teach us fighting skills.”

  “You think seeking isn’t a fighting skill?” Clear Sky dropped his mew to a whisper. “One day your enemies will hide when they hear you coming. You’ll need to know how to find them.”

  Alder’s eyes grew round. “Are we going to hide while Birch waits here?”

  “You’re a smart young kit.” Clear Sky lifted his nose to point at the sun where it dazzled through the branches. “Birch.” With a jerk
of his muzzle, he motioned the young tom kit to follow his gaze. “When the sun has lifted to the next branch, come and look for us.”

  Birch drew himself up. “Okay.”

  “Come on, Alder.” Clear Sky bounded down the slope. “Let’s find somewhere he’ll never think of looking.”

  “Do you already know somewhere?” Her paws pattered over the leaves.

  “Hush! We mustn’t give him clues.” He slowed his pace. She’d need some energy left for the next part of the training session. He crossed a dry streambed, followed a swath of brambles, and headed into a dip crowded with ferns. Climbing out the other side, he zigzagged among the trees until he reached a ridge. A clearing lay beyond. He’d picked it out the day before for training. The ground was clear; the slender birch trees that encircled it were widely spaced.

  “There’s nowhere to hide here!” Alder caught him up and stared around the bare clearing. “Why didn’t we stop in the ferns?”

  “Pick a tree, and crouch behind it,” Clear Sky ordered. “When Birch comes, you’ll need space to attack him.”

  Alder blinked at him. “Attack him? I thought we were playing hide-and-seek.”

  “We’re training, remember?” Why is she arguing?

  “I won’t do it.” Alder dug her paws into the crumbly earth. “You didn’t warn Birch.”

  “He needs to learn!” Clear Sky snapped, swallowing back an angry hiss.

  “It’s not fair.” Alder stared with round eyes. “He won’t be ready for it.” Was she trembling? “It feels wrong.”

  She’s brave. He couldn’t help feeling a prick of admiration for the kit. It took courage to argue with her leader. But she had a lot of growing up to do. “I know your instinct tells you that cats stalk their enemy, that they don’t hide and jump out at them. But times are changing. We must learn to outgrow instincts that don’t help us anymore.” He padded around her. “In battles, it won’t always be the strongest cats with the sharpest claws who survive.”

  Alder glanced down at her small paws.

  Clear Sky went on. “The smartest cats with the fastest moves will have the best chance at victory. Your instincts might tell you that these tactics aren’t honorable. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned since I came down from the mountains, honor means nothing to the dead.” He stopped and leaned closer. “We must stay ahead of our enemies.”

  Alder swallowed. “Do we have enemies?”

  Clear Sky swished his tail and padded toward a birch trunk. “Every cat who wants to take prey from our land is an enemy. Learn what I teach you and you’ll be safe.” He climbed onto a root, and sat down. “Birch will be on his way soon. You’d better pick a tree to hide behind. But first—” He scanned the forest floor until he spotted a dip in the earth still wet with morning dew. “Roll yourself in that mud.” He jerked his nose toward it.”

  Alder sniffed. “Why?”

  “To disguise your scent.” Couldn’t she guess? “Otherwise Birch will smell you the moment he reaches the clearing.”

  Alder stopped beside the muddy dip and wrinkled her nose. “It smells of rotting leaves.”

  “Good.” Clear Sky idly scraped a strip of bark from the root. “Get rolling.”

  Screwing up her eyes, Alder padded into the mud and lay down. She wriggled on her back, flopping from side to side like a stranded fish, then leaped to her paws. “I stink!”

  “But you’ve lost your scent,” Clear Sky reminded her. “Now pick a tree to hide behind.” He glanced at the sky. The sun had moved. Would Birch be on his way yet? Training kits was slow work. But it would be worth it. “Hurry up!” Alder was turning in circles behind a birch stem, her ears flicking. “You should be in position by now.”

  Her fur rippled along her mud-slicked spine. She padded uneasily to the next truck and sniffed the roots, then twisted suddenly and dug her nose into her flank as though she were chasing a flea.

  “What’s wrong?” Clear Sky bit back anger. “Just hide, will you?”

  “But my pelt feels weird with all this gunk on it.”

  Clenching his teeth, Clear Sky hopped from the root and padded toward her. “Crouch here.” He jabbed a claw into a gap between two roots. “Stay low so Birch won’t see you.”

  She squirmed onto her belly between the roots. “It still feels wrong,” she muttered. “He thinks we’re playing hide-and-seek and you want me to attack him.”

  “I want to see if you can surprise him.” Irritation itched beneath Clear Sky’s pelt.

  “I could surprise him without smelling like rotten leaves.” She pressed her belly to the floor until she looked like another muddy root sticking up from the earth.

  “If Birch was a real enemy, smelling like rotten leaves might be the best weapon you have.”

  “But he’s not a real enemy.” She sat up straight, destroying her camouflage.

  Clear Sky stiffened with frustration.

  “Why can’t all the cats just be friends?” Alder asked. “Just because we live in different places doesn’t mean we have to fight.”

  Stop arguing! Before he could stop himself, Clear Sky swiped a paw at her. He sheathed his claws a moment before he struck her ear, but she staggered from the fierceness of the blow and tripped over a root. “No cat wants to fight,” he growled. “But we have to survive! It’s better to train for a battle that never comes, than to die in one you aren’t prepared for.” Rage churned in his belly. “All I’m trying to do is make sure you can win if you have to fight!”

  Alder scrambled to her paws and backed away. Her ear twitched where he’d hit it.

  “Don’t look so scared!” Clear Sky forced his hackles smooth. He hopped over the root and landed in front of her. She froze like a rabbit and stared up at him, trembling as he touched his muzzle to her head. “I’m sorry, okay? But you’ll understand when you grow up and have kits of your own to protect. A good leader will do whatever it takes to keep his cats safe.”

  As he spoke, a dog’s bark rang through the trees. Alder ducked out from beneath him, her ears swiveling as the dog barked again. “It’s coming from the big beech!” Her eyes glittered with terror. “Birch is there by himself!”

  She hared away from Clear Sky and hurtled across the forest floor.

  Clear Sky pelted after her, showering leaves behind as he pounded between the trees. He pulled past Alder, thundering up the slope as the forest rose ahead.

  “Save him!” Alder’s squeal rang behind.

  Through the ferns, past the bramble and over the dry streambed, Clear Sky ran, ears flattened against the dog’s barking. It was frenzied now, as though it had spotted prey.

  Clear Sky’s heart seemed to burst as he pelted on. The ground trembled beneath his paws. A flash of brown fur showed on the slope ahead. The dog!

  Large and broad shouldered, it thumped toward the big beech. Its teeth glistened as it barked with excitement.

  “Birch!” Clear Sky hissed the kit’s name. Where is he?

  The dog was circling the beech now, its wild eyes staring up. It gave a long, full-throated bark that rose into a gleeful howl.

  Clear Sky slowed, following the dog’s excited gaze.

  Clinging to the trunk, a few tail-lengths above the dog’s muzzle, was Birch. Brown-and-white pelt bushed, eyes wide with terror, the kit pressed himself hard against the bark.

  Clear Sky stopped, his heart lurching as the dog leaped, drool flying as it clamped its teeth shut a whisker beneath Birch’s tail.

  “It’ll kill him!” Alder’s horrified shriek took Clear Sky by surprise. She skidded to a halt at his side. “You have to save him.”

  Clear Sky hesitated. He couldn’t fight the dog head-on. He’d be killed. It was bigger than a badger. As he stared, his mind whirling, a desperate yowl sounded through the trees. Pale fur flashed at the edge of his vision.

  Petal!

  The yellow she-cat was racing up the slope. She was heading straight for the dog. She ran harder as she neared it.

  What’s she doin
g? Clear Sky stared. Is she mad? She’ll get herself killed.

  “Petal!” Alder wailed beside him.

  Suddenly, Petal veered.

  She’s going to distract it! Clear Sky understood in a flash that Petal was planning to lead the dog away from Birch. “I’m coming!” Energy surging, he dived forward. Two cats would be harder to chase. Surging up the slope, he neared the dog as its gaze flicked toward Petal. Delight flared in its eyes. Its paws scrambled to find a grip on the leaf-strewn earth as it lunged for her.

  She swerved, swooping past it like a snow eagle.

  The dog pelted after her.

  Clear Sky yowled. The dog slowed, glancing over its shoulder. Confusion shadowed its gaze as it saw him, then it turned back to Petal and pounded on. Clear Sky pushed hard against the forest floor. Petal was streaking ahead, the dog at her tail. But Clear Sky was gaining. Chest burning, he fixed his eyes on the dog. Pulling close, he leaped, raking his claws along the dog’s flank, before landing beside its shoulder without missing a paw step. As the dog stumbled, yelping with pain, he raced past it and caught up with Petal. “This way!” He swerved. Brambles crowded the forest ahead, better for prey than for hunters—and they were prey now.

  Petal’s paws thrummed beside him. The dog’s foul breath washed over them.

  The brambles loomed closer.

  Petal glanced at him. “Through or around?”

  Clear Sky nodded to the fox trail he knew cut through the middle. They could squeeze through it easily. The dog would have to go around.

  Petal’s eyes lit as she saw the small gap in the prickly branches. Clear Sky slowed to let her dive through first and followed. Thorns scraped his pelt. Tendrils whipped his nose. He pressed on, Petal’s tail flicking a muzzle-length ahead. Swiveling his ears, he listened for the dog.

  Big paws slewed to a halt at the bramble’s edge. The dog whined angrily before taking off again.

  “It’s going around,” Petal warned.

  “We’ll make it to the other side before it does,” Clear Sky promised.

  “There are Twolegs on the moorside!” Petal screeched. “Let’s lead it there. They might distract it.”