Chapter 18
Wind was buffeting the trees and whipping the surface of the lake into white-tipped waves as Bristlefrost followed Bramblestar and the other ThunderClan warriors chosen to attend the Gathering. The full moon floated in the sky like a drifting leaf as clouds raced and jostled across its shining circle.
Bristlefrost’s paws felt heavy as she padded along the water’s edge. Usually she looked forward to meeting the cats of other Clans, but on this particular night she would rather have been anywhere else than on the Gathering island.
Preoccupied with her forebodings, she didn’t notice her sister, Thriftear, until she collided with her as she swerved around a boulder. Thriftear jumped backward and dipped her head with exaggerated respect.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “I should know better than to get in the deputy’s way. Of course, you must go first,” she finished with a sweep of her tail.
Bristlefrost wanted to say that it had been her fault, and she didn’t want to go first, but before she could speak she looked up and noticed that Bramblestar had glanced back over his shoulder and was watching her. Instead of speaking to Thriftear, she gave her a dignified nod and padded on ahead.
I’d better get used to cats hating me, she thought, even my own littermate. No cat at the Gathering is going to be happy about the news that I’m the new deputy.
Even in ThunderClan, Bristlefrost knew that she didn’t command a scrap of the respect that her Clanmates had given to Squirrelflight, or even to Berrynose.
The moment Bristlefrost had dreaded came when she and her Clanmates pushed their way through the bushes that encircled the Gathering space and found places for themselves around the Great Oak. As ThunderClan deputy, she had to pad across the clearing and take her place on the tree roots with the other deputies, cringing inwardly at their contemptuous looks. Hawkwing’s greeting was a curt nod, while Cloverfoot of ShadowClan turned away and whispered something into the ear of RiverClan’s deputy, Reedwhisker.
Shocked and scornful comments arose from the warriors assembled in the clearing.
“That’s a deputy?”
“What’s she doing there? Where’s Berrynose?”
“ThunderClan must be really short of cats!”
Bristlefrost sat and stared at her paws as the five leaders leaped up into the branches of the Great Oak, and Bramblestar stepped forward to begin the meeting.
“Cats of all Clans,” he announced, “I am brave even to show up here tonight, because just a few days ago I was the victim of a savage attack. Stemleaf, Spotfur, Conefoot, and Dappletuft surprised and attacked me on my own territory, aiming to kill me. Yes, even cats from my own Clan! If it weren’t for the quick thinking and protection of my loyal warrior Bristlefrost, I would be dead!”
“What about Berrynose?” Tigerstar asked.
Bristlefrost noticed that Tigerstar was behaving as if he didn’t know what had happened to the former deputy. I wonder if Berrynose made it to the exiles’ camp—I hope so. Even though Berrynose was the most annoying cat in the forest, he didn’t deserve to fend for himself as an outcast.
“Berrynose failed me,” Bramblestar replied. “He is no longer my deputy, or a ThunderClan warrior. I have exiled him. Bristlefrost is now ThunderClan’s deputy.”
Bristlefrost cringed. Normally when a new deputy was announced at a Gathering, all the Clans would acclaim them by calling their name. But now there was only silence; she couldn’t meet the hostile glares of the cats around her.
“You exiled Berrynose?” Tigerstar repeated, sounding astonished. His claws dug hard into the branch where he stood. “But he was never a codebreaker. Mind you, neither was Alderheart, and I hear you’ve exiled him, too. At this rate, there’ll be more ThunderClan cats wandering the forest than in your camp.”
Bramblestar fixed the ShadowClan leader with a baleful amber glare. “ThunderClan business is ThunderClan business,” he snapped. “Alderheart has been replaced by a new apprentice, Flipclaw, who is doing a fine job, dedicated to serving his Clan and StarClan—just as we all should be. And he has received at least one prophetic dream, the only contact a cat of any Clan has had from StarClan”
Tigerstar let out a snort of amusement. “Do tell!”
“I will keep the details within ThunderClan,” Bramblestar retorted. “But the dream was very clear.”
As he was speaking, Bristlefrost noticed that some of her Clanmates were exchanging dubious glances. She shared their doubts. Nothing would convince her that her brother had received a single message from StarClan, or that he had the talent to become a medicine cat.
“In any case,” Bramblestar continued, “I am ThunderClan’s leader, chosen by StarClan, and I run my Clan as I see fit. Remember that killing another Clan’s leader is a serious offense to StarClan!” he added with a glance around the clearing. “And so I must ask all the Clans to exile any of my surviving attackers.”
Mistystar looked down from where she sat in a fork of the Great Oak, her blue eyes gleaming with sorrow in the fitful moonlight. “Dappletuft died in the attack,” she mewed, “but I was stunned and dismayed to hear how she dishonored her Clan. No cat who offended StarClan in such a way can be part of RiverClan. We did not sit vigil for her, and we buried her as we would have buried a rogue, with no words spoken over her.”
Bristlefrost could see Dappletuft’s kin huddled together at the back of the crowd; every one of them looked ashamed and miserable. Her heart ached for them. Dappletuft must have known what she was risking, but to be exiled from your Clan in death . . .
Leafstar was shifting uncomfortably, working her claws into the bark of the branch where she sat. “I wonder why those young warriors risked so much to attack you, Bramblestar,” she meowed, a challenge in her tone.
Bramblestar seemed unmoved by the challenge. “A leader who upholds the warrior code as strongly as I do is bound to make enemies,” he responded smoothly. “After all, it can be difficult and painful to do what’s right. But StarClan has advised and watched over the Clans for seasons upon seasons. Surely the right course is whatever brings them back?”
Leafstar opened her jaws to reply, but Bramblestar cut her off.
“That brings me to my next point,” he continued. “My former mate and deputy, Squirrelflight”—he broke off for a heartbeat, then choked out the rest—“is dead.” His voice was thick with emotion; Bristlefrost realized that he was still grieving. “She was killed by a monster near the Twolegplace.”
Murmurs of surprise and dismay rose from the assembled cats. Bristlefrost noticed that Tigerstar looked particularly shocked. He knows exactly what happened—but he’s very good at pretending!
“Of course, I was devastated at first,” Bramblestar went on. “I loved Squirrelflight. I still love her. But then I realized: Not even the cats we love can escape punishment for breaking the code. StarClan will enforce the code regardless. And so we must brush aside our pain and put all our energies toward serving StarClan!”
His voice rang out clearly across the crowd of cats below, who responded with yowls and caterwauls of agreement. Bristlefrost noticed that only Tigerstar, the rebels, and a few other warriors were looking doubtful.
“Now I ask my fellow leaders,” Bramblestar continued, “whether I can count on their help in strictly following the code and serving StarClan in any way we can.”
Silence followed the impostor’s words for a few heartbeats. Then Mistystar dipped her head in agreement. “You have my support, Bramblestar, and the support of RiverClan,” she mewed. “You’re right that exiling the codebreakers has been painful at times.” Bristlefrost detected a flicker of guilt in her eyes. She must be thinking of Mothwing, she thought. “But RiverClan is still suffering as a result of these rains. I hope that doing as StarClan has commanded will bring back their favor.”