I will make sure Breezepelt knows I love him, just like Ashfoot loved me, he vowed to himself. Changing is hard… but if it saves Breezepelt, it will be worth it.
Chapter 28
The full moon floated over the lake as Crowfeather pushed his way through the bushes that surrounded the clearing on the Gathering island. WindClan was the last to arrive; the other three Clans were already mingling on the moonwashed grass, their heads together as they exchanged news and gossip. Onestar picked his way through the crowd and leaped up to join the other leaders in the Great Oak.
Many days had passed since the stoats had attacked the WindClan camp. Most of the injured cats had recovered, though Crowfeather still felt a twinge of pain when he put his weight on his wounded hind leg. Leafpool and Mothwing had returned to their own Clans and now sat close to the Great Oak with their fellow medicine cats.
As soon as Onestar had settled himself on a branch, Blackstar lifted his head to get every cat’s attention: “Before we begin, let us remember the fallen…”
As he had done at the last gathering, Blackstar spoke the names of the warriors lost in the Great Battle.
As soon as he’d finished, Bramblestar stepped forward and started the real meeting. The chatter in the clearing died away as the ThunderClan leader reported that his patrols were keeping an eye on foxes visiting their territory, and that they had chased away a Twoleg’s stray dog.
“Yes, you chased it onto our territory,” Blackstar complained, rising to his paws. “Thank you very much. Its Twolegs came looking for it, stomping all over the forest with their huge paws. But it’s gone now, so no more problem.”
Bramblestar dipped his head politely, then waved his tail at Mistystar for her to begin her report.
“RiverClan is doing fine,” Mistystar reported. “The prey is running well, considering it’s leaf-bare, and the lake is full of fish. Onestar,” she continued, turning to the WindClan leader, “how are your injured warriors?”
“I hope they’re recovering,” Bramblestar added.
Onestar dipped his head politely to the two leaders. “They are all doing well,” he responded. “Thank you for your help. And I think you have all heard that Nightcloud isn’t dead after all. We welcome her back to her Clan.”
“Nightcloud! Nightcloud!” the cats in the clearing yowled, echoing Onestar’s welcome.
The black she-cat, who was sitting a tail-length away from Crowfeather, dipped her head in thanks, her eyes gleaming with pleasure that cats from other Clans were happy to see her again.
You wouldn’t get that living with Pickle and the Twolegs, Crowfeather thought.
“And what about the stoats in the tunnels?” Mistystar asked. “Have you been able to deal with them?”
Crowfeather forced himself not to wince. That was a question that Onestar would find hard to answer.
“We haven’t forgotten, but our Clan has been concentrating on healing,” the WindClan leader replied.
“So you haven’t done anything?” Bramblestar’s tone was respectful, but he was obviously determined to get at the truth. “The stoats are still a problem — still a threat to more than one Clan?”
“We haven’t dealt with them yet,” Onestar told him reluctantly. “The stoats have broken through some of the entrances that we stopped up, so that plan won’t work.”
“And do you have another plan?” Bramblestar asked.
“I’ve discussed the problem with my senior warriors,” Onestar told him. “But so far we haven’t come up with an alternative.”
Crowfeather remembered that meeting, a few days after the attack on the camp. No cat had come up with a solution, except to ask ThunderClan for help again, and they were all reluctant to test Bramblestar’s good nature any further.
Crowfeather was aware of cats stirring around him, exchanging glances and muttering under their breath. His fur began to rise all along his spine as he realized they were blaming WindClan for not dealing with the invaders. He was tempted to agree, but he knew that problems always seemed easier to solve when you weren’t the cat trying to solve them.
“Huh! I’d like to see them trying to fight with the vicious little mange-pelts,” Nightcloud hissed.
Crowfeather gave her an approving nod. “Yeah, they don’t know what we’re up against,” he agreed.
Bramblestar raised his voice to be heard over the rising noise in the clearing. “Cats of all Clans!” he announced. “This is not just WindClan’s problem. Already in ThunderClan we’ve had to deal with some of these creatures coming onto our territory. If they aren’t stopped, they could easily spread to ShadowClan and RiverClan.”
“What?” Blackstar started up, as if he had been half dozing. His eyes were wide with alarm.
He’s starting to look old, Crowfeather thought. How much use will he be to deal with a crisis like this?
“Onestar,” Bramblestar continued, “I’ll make you the same offer that I made before. ThunderClan is ready to help. We must work together; it’s the only hope we have of driving out the stoats.”
“Great StarClan!” Nightcloud whispered in Crowfeather’s ear, “Let’s not have another argument like the one in our camp. Breezepelt told me all about it, and I couldn’t believe what Onestar said!”
“Onestar wouldn’t say the same now — not at a Gathering,” Crowfeather responded, though he wasn’t at all sure that it was true.
Onestar hesitated for a long moment, staring at the ThunderClan leader. Then, slowly, he dipped his head. “Very well. WindClan thanks you, Bramblestar.”
“RiverClan will help too, if we’re needed,” Mistystar meowed. “And ShadowClan too, Blackstar?”
Blackstar gave his pelt a shake. “I suppose so,” he grunted.
The decision made, the cats in the clearing were settling down again when Crowfeather noticed that his son Lionblaze was looking uncomfortable, shifting impatiently as if he wanted to speak. What’s biting him? he wondered.
Lionblaze suddenly leaped to his paws. “Bramblestar, I want to say something!”
His Clan leader looked down at him, a slight look of disapproval in his eyes. “Very well. Go on,” he mewed.
Crowfeather saw Lionblaze’s glance swivel around the clearing until it lighted on Breezepelt. For a couple of heartbeats the two half brothers glared at each other. Dread bubbled up inside Crowfeather as he realized where this was going.
“I don’t want to fight beside Breezepelt,” Lionblaze growled, with an angry glare at the WindClan warrior, who was sitting beside Heathertail in the shadow of the bushes. “He tried to kill me in the battle with the Dark Forest.”
I thought all that was over. Crowfeather’s heart sank as he had to accept that he was wrong. It was many days since he had heard a WindClan cat speak out against Breezepelt, but he had forgotten how Lionblaze might still be bearing a grudge.
“And I still think WindClan was spying on us when we caught Crowfeather and Breezepelt in the tunnels,” Berrynose added, coming to stand beside Lionblaze.
Crowfeather could hear other ThunderClan warriors murmuring agreement, and was bracing himself to stand up. He didn’t want to make a scene at a Gathering, and he had the horrible feeling that whatever he did, he was going to upset one of his sons. But he couldn’t let the chance pass of showing support for Breezepelt.
However, before Crowfeather had decided what to say, Bramblestar waved his tail for silence once again.
“The trouble with the Dark Forest is over,” the ThunderClan leader meowed decisively. He turned a cold gaze on Lionblaze and Berrynose. “Raking up old quarrels will do no cat any good. We must all learn to trust one another. We must move forward and not think about the past.”