“Sorry—it’s my fault,” Ratscar rasped. “Leave me and go on.”
“No cat is leaving you,” Lionblaze said firmly. “Alderheart, you lead the elders over the border. I’ll give the rogues something else to think about.”
“No!” Alderheart protested, panic surging through him. “What if they work out what we’re doing and use that as an excuse to attack ThunderClan? It’s all going wrong!”
“They won’t—” Sparkpelt began.
“Then what if they call up more of Darktail’s cats? You’ll be way outnumbered.”
“Alderheart, have you got bees in your brain?” Ivypool’s eyes glittered with menace. “Lionblaze has us to help him. Now go!” She followed up her words with a violent shove to Alderheart’s rump.
Realizing how stupid he was being, Alderheart urged the elders into motion, crawling swiftly through the ferns. ThunderClan scent flowed over them as they crossed the border. At the same moment, Alderheart heard yowling and screeching break out behind him. His paws tugged him back toward the fight, but he knew that his duty was to see the elders safely into the ThunderClan camp.
“Welcome to ThunderClan,” he meowed. “Let’s go.”
Cats poured out of their dens as Alderheart and the elders pushed their way through the thorn tunnel and into the stone hollow, alerted by the joyful caterwauling of Sorrelstripe, who was on watch. Rowanstar and the ShadowClan cats surged across the clearing, surrounding Ratscar and Oakfur, who were almost knocked off their paws by their Clanmates’ enthusiastic greeting.
“Take it easy,” Alderheart protested, pushing his way through to the side of the two old cats. “They’re injured and weak. They should spend tonight in the medicine cats’ den.”
Reluctantly, the ShadowClan cats gave way, allowing Alderheart to lead Oakfur and Ratscar to the medicine cats’ den and pass them over to Jayfeather and Leafpool. His legs were shaky with exhaustion, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but he knew that first he would have to report to Bramblestar.
His father was waiting for him as he emerged past the bramble screen and back into the camp.
“Good job,” Bramblestar mewed approvingly. “But where’s the rest of the patrol?”
“We met some rogues,” Alderheart explained, his pelt beginning to prickle all over with guilt. “Lionblaze and the others stayed to fight them off, while I got the elders across the border.”
Bramblestar’s ears pricked forward. “Many rogues? Do I need to send a patrol?”
“We only saw two, but—”
Alderheart broke off as more cats appeared from the thorn tunnel. A flood of relief struck him as he recognized Lionblaze in the lead, closely followed by Sparkpelt and Ivypool.
“Are you okay?” he asked, running toward them.
“We’re all fine,” Lionblaze replied.
“You didn’t think those flea-pelts could hurt us, did you?” Ivypool demanded. “That strange cat—what did Roach call him? Loki?—seemed as if he’d never had a fighting lesson in his whole life.”
Sparkpelt let out a small mrrow of laughter. “We soon chased them off! I’ve never seen cats move so fast.”
To Alderheart’s relief, he realized that his Clanmates only had a few minor scratches to show for the skirmish with the rogues.
“Do you think they realized we were rescuing the elders?” he asked.
Lionblaze shook his head. “I told them we were on patrol and stepped over the border by accident,” he explained. “They seemed to accept that.”
“Not that we had much time for talking,” Ivypool added, examining her claws.
For a few moments Alderheart basked in thankfulness for the news. I can’t remember how long it’s been since the Clans had something to be happy about, he thought. And now we do. We’ve rescued our first cats from the rogue camp!
Then he remembered that not every Clan could share in their triumph. WindClan was still absent.
I wonder what’s happening, up there on the moor…
“That sore is healing nicely,” Alderheart meowed to Ratscar, dabbing a new dressing of marigold on the elder’s hind leg. “You’d better come back tomorrow, though, and let one of us check on it again.”
The old cat was looking much stronger and healthier now that he had spent several days in the ThunderClan camp. Alderheart couldn’t see his ribs anymore, and his brown pelt was glossy and well groomed.
“I’ll do that,” Ratscar mewed, “and I can’t tell you how grateful we are, me and Oakfur. You know, back in the rogues’ camp, Puddleshine did try to help us, but he had to sneak around Darktail. That sorry excuse for a cat didn’t want Puddleshine doing us elders any special favors.”
“Special favors!” Alderheart felt a sudden jolt of outrage. “Helping sick cats is what a medicine cat is for. It’s not a favor!”
Ratscar let out a huffing breath. “Try telling that to Darktail. You know,” he continued, “I can’t believe how bad things were in that camp. The worst mistake I ever made was not leaving with Rowanstar.”
“Why didn’t you?” Alderheart asked.
Ratscar shrugged. “I was angry with him for decisions he made while he was ill—but now I know what bad leadership really looks like.”
“Have you told Rowanstar that?”
“No,” Ratscar replied, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Things are still a bit… cool, between us.”
“Then maybe you should,” Alderheart advised.
Ratscar left the den, promising to think about what Alderheart had said.
While he tidied away the herbs he had been using, Alderheart reflected on how well their plan was working. On his second meeting with Violetpaw, she had brought out Snowbird and her two kits. They had settled into the ThunderClan nursery, where there was a bit more space now that most of the injured RiverClan warriors were healed.
Even so, the camp was still hopelessly overcrowded, and tension was in the air. Squirrelflight had suggested once again that they should move some cats out to the abandoned Twoleg den, but no cat wanted to go, and Bramblestar finally had to admit to his worry that they would be vulnerable there if the rogues attacked.
Raised voices sounded from outside the den. What now? Alderheart wondered with a sigh.
He padded out from behind the bramble screen to find Rowanstar and Mistystar standing nose to nose, their legs stiff and their ears laid flat.
Alderheart groaned. Not this again!
“I don’t know why you’re dragging your paws over this,” Rowanstar was meowing, his voice tight with fury. “It’s obvious we should be attacking the rogues now. Any cat can see that we outnumber them, and your precious RiverClan warriors are nearly healed!”
“Yes, but if we attack, Darktail might kill the RiverClan prisoners he still holds,” Mistystar said.
Rowanstar lashed his tail in frustration. “I’m nearly ready to go and attack them by myself,” he growled. “It’s—”
Just then, Bramblestar padded up with a nod for the other two leaders. Alderheart noticed that each of them tried to relax, as if they didn’t want to be seen arguing in front of him.
“We need to discuss this,” Bramblestar announced, then turned and headed for the tumbled rocks. When he had reached the Highledge, he raised his voice so that it rang out over the stone hollow. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highledge for a meeting of the Clans!”
Before he had finished speaking, cats were crowding out of the dens and into the clearing. Snowbird and her kits appeared at the entrance to the nursery along with Leafpool and Daisy. Graystripe and Millie, with the two ShadowClan elders, sat outside their den, while Squirrelflight and Jayfeather, with a couple of the RiverClan warriors, looked up from the fresh-kill pile.