Acorntail looked closer. The smallest cat, which looked like an apprentice, had a tuft of dusky-brown fur stuck on his nose. There was only one type of prey that had fur like that.
“Have you been stealing rabbits?” Acorntail hissed.
The apprentice’s eyes stretched wide—in guilty horror, Acorntail was sure—but the big warrior just curled his lip. “As if we’d waste our energy chasing your scrawny prey.”
Acorntail opened his jaws; he could clearly taste the scent of fresh-killed rabbit clinging to these cats. Before he could say anything, Morningcloud and Quickpaw hurtled up from farther along the border.
“We found a dead rabbit!” Quickpaw panted.
“With ThunderClan scent on it,” Morningcloud added. She skidded to a stop and narrowed her eyes at the rival patrol.
Acorntail flattened his ears. “So you did steal our prey!”
“It was dead already,” growled the ThunderClan warrior. “We know better than to waste good fresh-kill—unlike your Clan.”
“It did look old and it smelled funny,” Quickpaw meowed before Acorntail could silence him. “It could have been dead for days. Yuck, you just ate crow-food!”
“That’s not the point!” Acorntail hissed. What kind of deputy lets the first rival patrol he meets get away with trespassing and theft? “These cats have stolen our prey! They must be taught a lesson! WindClan, attack!”
He sprang at the big ThunderClan warrior, claws unsheathed.
To his surprise, the warrior didn’t try to jump away or fight back.
Instead, he stared past Acorntail with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Acorntail thudded to the ground and looked over his shoulder.
Morningcloud and Quickpaw were standing close together, watching him.
“Attack!” yowled Acorntail.
“Don’t be such a mouse-brain,” Morningcloud retorted. “I’m not putting my apprentice in danger for the sake of crow-food. If they want to eat rotten prey that will give them bellyache, that’s up to them.”
“But they trespassed!” Acorntail protested, starting to feel like the day couldn’t get any worse.
“Actually we didn’t,” the other ThunderClan warrior put in helpfully. “The rabbit was on our side of the border.”
Acorntail looked questioningly at Morningcloud. She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Acorntail demanded.
“We were going to,” Morningcloud replied. “You didn’t give us a chance.”
“And now I think you’ll find you’re trespassing on our territory,” the first ThunderClan warrior pointed out.
Acorntail walked stiffly back across the border.
“Morningcloud, Quickpaw, we’re going back to the camp,” he announced. “Featherstar needs to be told that a rabbit has died on ThunderClan’s territory.”
Morningcloud looked faintly surprised, but to his relief, she didn’t argue.
“Which means it belonged to us anyway!” called the ThunderClan warrior as they headed back up the hill. “You should pick your battles more carefully.”
I don’t know enough to be a deputy, Acorntail thought miserably. I’m going to tell Featherstar I can’t do this.
“You’ve made a mistake. You’ll have to choose another cat to be deputy.”
Featherstar regarded him from her nest, her blue eyes glowing in the half-light behind the gorse bushes. “When you became an apprentice, did you know all the fighting moves and how to hunt prey?”
“Of course not,” Acorntail replied, puzzled.
“And when you became a warrior, did you know how to lead patrols, how to find the best places to hunt, and where our rivals
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were most likely to try to cross our border?”
Acorntail shook his head.
“Then why do you expect to know everything about being a deputy on your very first day? Every cat knows you have things to learn, but once you have, you’ll be as good as Pebblefur.”
Never.
“Think back to when you were an apprentice,” Featherstar went on. “Remember what it was like to learn new things every day, knowing they would all lead to making you a warrior of WindClan?”
“But that was different,” Acorntail argued. “I didn’t have responsibility for the whole Clan then.”
“And you don’t now,” Featherstar pointed out. “I’m still the leader.” She put her head to one side. “Why do you feel that you’re not worthy of giving orders to your Clanmates, Acorntail?”
“Because I don’t know how to! Look at what happened today: Morningcloud would never have given the order to attack. She’d have found out all the information first, and then made sure that her apprentice wasn’t in danger if a fight started. She’d make a much better deputy than me.”
“But I chose you,” Featherstar meowed. She was silent for a while, and Acorntail tried not to fidget. Then she lifted her head and looked straight at him. “I’m sorry. I should have given you an apprentice first. You would have gotten used to giving orders, and you would understand how protective mentors feel about sending young cats into battle.”
She sounded so flat and defeated that Acorntail felt a rush of concern for her. She had lost her last deputy, now making her life even more difficult.
“It’s not too late,” he meowed firmly. “Give me an apprentice now, and I can learn. Cherryfeather’s kits are nearly six moons old; let me have Pricklekit.”
Featherstar held his gaze. “If I do that, will you stay as my deputy?”
Acorntail nodded. “I’ll be the best deputy I can be. Pebblefur would have wanted me to do that.”
“And you’ll be as good a mentor to your apprentice as he was to you,” Featherstar assured him. She went on, “I think I’ll suggest an addition to the warrior code at the next Gathering, that a warrior cannot be made deputy unless he has had an apprentice.”
Acorntail winced, and she added quickly, “Not because I regret choosing you, Acorntail, but because you’re right. Training an apprentice teaches a cat how to give orders, how to protect the less-experienced fighters, and establishes bonds of loyalty that can survive the worst battles.
“Now, go sort out the dawn patrols for tomorrow. And then you might like to visit the nursery to see how your future apprentice is faring!”
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Code Eight
THE DEPUTY WILL BECOME CLAN LEADER
WHEN THE LEADER DIES OR RETIRES.
At the dawn of the Clans, new Clan leaders were chosen from the kin of the previous leader: often their kits, but sometimes their littermates or their kits’ kits. Leaders were well respected enough that their kin was respected, too, by the whole Clan, and it seemed the easiest way to choose a new head of the Clan. But not all cats follow their kin in skil s and temperament, and as you will see, not every new leader was well suited or well received.
Follow My Leader
The air stilled until the trees were silent, and the only sound was the splash of water over stones. The brown tabby cat lay in the shelter of thick ferns, his breathing so shallow that his flank barely stirred.
“Robinwing?” he rasped.
“Yes, I’m here, Beechstar.” Robinwing leaned closer, refusing to flinch away from the stench of death that already clung to the old cat’s fur. “Your Clan is safe.”
The tip of Beechstar’s tail twitched. “They won’t be safe for long. RiverClan will not be content with my death. SkyClan must attack again before they do. Take the battle into their territory this time. And make sure we win.”
“Hush, Father,” urged Mothpelt. “Get some rest, and we’ll take you back to the camp tomorrow.”