Crowfeather’s Trial

by Erin Hunter

  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.

  Harespring rose to his paws; both he and Crowfeather dipped their heads respectfully to the ThunderClan cats.

  “Greetings,” Harespring meowed. “May we come across? We need to speak to Bramblestar.”

  Poppyfrost regarded them with narrowed eyes. “You again, Crowfeather? You’re spending more time in ThunderClan territory than in your own.”

  “I was very grateful for permission to cross,” Crowfeather responded, biting back a sarcastic retort. “We found Nightcloud. She’s fine, and she’s home now.”

  The ThunderClan cats looked surprised, and a little
pleased, relaxing from their first suspicious demeanor. Crowfeather realized that no Clan cat would like to think of another lost and injured, even though she belonged to a different Clan. Ivypool had been concerned, too, and all the Clans had joined together to help one another against the Dark Forest.

  We’re Clan cats. It’s what we do.

  “Good,” Poppyfrost mewed. “So why are you here now?”

  “We have a request to make of Bramblestar,” Harespring replied.

  Poppyfrost stared at him until she seemingly realized that Harespring wasn’t going to reveal the request.

  “Let them come,” Birchfall prompted her. “It might be important.”

  Poppyfrost hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. “I suppose two cats aren’t an invasion,” she decided. “Okay, come over.”

  The stream here was too wide to leap, but shallow enough to wade through. Crowfeather padded forward cautiously, flinching at the cold feeling of water on his belly fur, though he was grateful for the refreshing touch on his tired paws. It feels like moons since I’ve been able to rest.

  On the other side both cats shook their pelts, being careful not to splatter the ThunderClan patrol, and at Poppyfrost’s command followed them through the trees in the direction of the ThunderClan camp.

  When they arrived in the stone hollow, the whole Clan seemed to be out in the open. Purdy was stretched out in front of the elders’ den, telling a story to Seedpaw while the apprentice searched him for ticks. Several warriors, including the deputy, Squirrelflight, were gossiping by the fresh-kill pile. Brightheart and Daisy were enjoying the pale leaf-bare sun beside the entrance to the nursery, while Brightheart’s three kits wrestled and rolled about nearby.

  It seemed to Crowfeather that as soon as he and Harespring had emerged from the thorn tunnel and advanced a few paces into the camp, the gaze of every cat was trained on them. They don’t look friendly, either. Every cat must know what Onestar said to Bramblestar.

  “Wait here,” Poppyfrost ordered them curtly.

  She raced across the camp and bounded up the tumbled rocks that led to Bramblestar’s den halfway up the camp wall. Crowfeather exchanged a glance with Harespring.

  “Let me do the talking,” the deputy meowed. “And for StarClan’s sake, don’t say anything to annoy Bramblestar.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Crowfeather muttered.

  A moment later, Bramblestar appeared from his den and picked his way down the rocks to the camp floor. As he approached, Crowfeather could see that he seemed surprised and wary; his amber eyes were cold as he looked the two WindClan cats up and down.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  Harespring dipped his head respectfully. “Greetings, Bramblestar. We’ve come to ask for ThunderClan’s help. We need a medicine cat.”

  Bramblestar was silent for a moment, his gaze flicking from Harespring to Crowfeather and back again. “You need a medicine cat,” he repeated. “You’re asking for our help, after Onestar insulted me when I came to offer my help with the stoats?”

  “We’ve had more trouble with them,” Harespring responded. “Many of our cats are injured.”

  Bramblestar hesitated for a heartbeat, then turned to Squirrelflight, who had padded up to stand at her leader’s shoulder. “I don’t want any cat to suffer,” he meowed. “Fetch Leafpool and Jayfeather, please.”

  As Squirrelflight left, Bramblestar faced the WindClan cats again, giving his whiskers a disdainful twitch. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  Harespring hesitated, casting an uncertain glance at Crowfeather, who could share his tension, knowing what Bramblestar’s reaction was likely to be. “We came up with a plan to deal with the stoats,” Harespring admitted at last. “We blocked up the tunnel entrances on our side, but that only made them angry. They attacked our camp last night. We—”

  “So you haven’t dealt with the stoats?” Bramblestar’s voice was a hiss of fury, and the fur on his muscular shoulders began to rise. “I suppose it didn’t occur to you that if you blocked up the tunnels at your end, that would drive the stoats out into ThunderClan territory? Or did you realize that, but you just didn’t care? It never crossed your mind that you might warn us?” He let out an angry snort. “I thought Onestar was an experienced leader. He said he had this under control!”

  Harespring couldn’t find words to reply, merely flexing his claws in the earth floor of the camp. Crowfeather thought that the silence would stretch out forever. I’m glad Harespring is doing the talking. I wouldn’t know what to say to that, either.

  He was aware that the rest of the Clan was gathering around, their ears pricked eagerly to listen to this confrontation. The whole of ThunderClan will know how badly we’ve handled this!

  Squirrelflight returned with Leafpool and Jayfeather, and the three cats thrust their way through the crowd to join the group at its center.

  Bramblestar was the first to break the silence. “Tell me if I have this straight,” he began; his voice was soft, but every word bit as hard as a fox’s fangs. “I went to Onestar to offer ThunderClan’s help in driving out the stoats. Onestar insulted me and my whole Clan, and insisted he would take care of the problem himself. His plan was a disaster, because he did not have the problem under control, and now he’s sending you to ask for ThunderClan’s help. Is that correct?”

  Harespring was obviously finding it difficult to meet the ThunderClan leader’s gaze. “Yes,” he mumbled at last.

  “I want to hear you say it,” Bramblestar growled. “I want to hear you say that Onestar’s decisions got his Clan into trouble and he needs ThunderClan’s help.”

  Harespring’s only response was to cast a helpless glance at Crowfeather. You wanted to do the talking, Crowfeather thought. So talk now. Can’t you see that we don’t have any choice?

  “Well?” Bramblestar asked, the tip of his tail twitching irritably.

  “We got ourselves into trouble and we need ThunderClan’s help,” Crowfeather replied instantly. “I’m sorry for what happened,” he added, “but we need help right now, not anger. Cats could die.”

  Bramblestar paused for a moment; Crowfeather felt as though his belly were full of squabbling stoats as he waited for the ThunderClan leader’s decision. What kind of leader will he turn out to be? he asked himself.

  Eventually Bramblestar nodded. “Very well. Leafpool may go with you.”

  Leafpool’s expression was full of relief as she took a pace forward to stand beside Crowfeather. Crowfeather knew very well she hated to think of cats in need, whatever their Clan might be. All the warmth and affection he had once felt for her threatened to well up again inside him, and he ruthlessly pushed it down again.

  All that was over a long time ago. But even while he admitted that, Crowfeather asked himself whether he had ever felt as strongly as that about Nightcloud. No, I never did. Is that a bad thing?

  He forced himself out of his musing to hear Harespring thank Bramblestar. “We should leave right away,” he meowed. “Every moment might count for the injured cats.”

  Bramblestar dipped his head and turned away, heading back to his den. The rest of the cats began to disperse, back to their duties.

  Leafpool touched Crowfeather on the shoulder with the tip of her tail. “Wait for me a moment,” she mewed. “I need to fetch some herbs.”

  She bounded away toward the medicine-cat den, with Jayfeather beside her. He was telling her something, his tail twitching as he spoke. I can’t imagine that’s anything good, Crowfeather thought. He’s probably warning her to beware of the vicious, treacherous WindClan cats.

  Leafpool reappeared from the den a few moments later, a leaf wrap of herbs in her jaws, and with Harespring in the lead the three cats headed out of the camp. Crowfeather relaxed as they emerged at the far end of the thorn tunnel, away from all those curious ThunderClan eyes.

  Once they were out in the forest, Harespring drew a little way ahead; Crowfeather guessed he wanted to give him and Leafpool the chance
to talk.

  I’m not sure that’s a good idea. There’s not much we have to say to each other anymore.

  But Leafpool seemed quite unembarrassed to be alone with the warrior she had once valued more than both her Clan and her calling as a medicine cat. “Ivypool told me you went looking for Nightcloud,” she began, managing to talk around the leaf wrap. Her gaze was friendly and sympathetic. “Did you find her?”

  “Yes,” Crowfeather replied. “Some Twolegs were looking after her, and we had to rescue her from their den. She’s fine now.”

  “I’m so glad!” Leafpool hesitated, then went on more diffidently, “Now you and Nightcloud will have the chance to work things out. After all, having kits ties you together forever, no matter what happens after that. . . .”

  Her voice trailed off, and she cast Crowfeather an awkward, flickering glance before padding on with her gaze fixed firmly on her paws.

  Like we did . . . Crowfeather too looked at the ground to hide his discomfort. What Leafpool had just said applied to them, too, of course, but neither of them dared say it aloud.

  After a few moments, Crowfeather summoned the courage to continue. “It’s true what you say. And I would like to be friends with Nightcloud, if I ever manage to tell her so.”

  He remembered how he and Nightcloud had been allies during her rescue and on the journey home, but that closeness hadn’t survived their return to camp. He still didn’t really know what to say to her.

  By the time Crowfeather and Leafpool crossed the border stream and left the trees behind to climb up onto the moor, Harespring was out of sight. Crowfeather wondered whether he had gone on ahead to tell WindClan that help was on its way.

  Then Crowfeather spotted movement behind an outcrop of rock, and thought that the deputy must be waiting there for them. But the creature that emerged into the open wasn’t Harespring. Instead of the deputy’s bright eyes and brown-and-white pelt, Crowfeather saw blinding white fur and sharp teeth.

  It’s one of those StarClan-cursed stoats!