Onestar's Confession, page 22
“Then what did you want?”
“I . . . I’m not sure. I only know that when she came to the camp with Firestar the other day, it stirred everything up inside me. I had to talk to her. I think I just wanted to make sure that she’s happy now. I never meant any harm to WindClan.”
He lapsed into silence, and for a long time Onestar did not respond. He couldn’t ignore the fact that one of his strongest warriors had done something mind-numbingly mouse-brained, treading very close to the edge of betraying their Clan. But even so . . .
“I can understand something of what you’re feeling,” he admitted to Crowfeather at last. “I too have had my loyalties . . . split. And tested.”
Crowfeather shot him a stunned look, clearly wondering if Onestar was confessing to loving a cat outside his Clan. He opened his jaws to speak, but no words came out.
“Crowfeather, you can never do this again,” Onestar meowed. “I believe you, but I’m not sure if there is any other cat, in WindClan or ThunderClan, who wouldn’t assume you were padding after Leafpool again, if they ever found out that you tried to see her. So you will never speak in private to her again, and you will not even think of setting paw over the ThunderClan border. Do you understand?”
Crowfeather examined his paws. “Yes, Onestar, I understand,” he murmured.
“Good.” Onestar nodded in satisfaction. “I see no need to punish you further. The way you’re tying yourself in knots is punishment enough.”
“Thank you, Onestar. Er . . .” Crowfeather gazed at him, blinking in embarrassment. “Will you tell the rest of the Clan why I trespassed on ThunderClan territory? Will you tell Nightcloud?”
“No,” Onestar replied, rising to his paws and preparing to leap out of the hollow. Smoke and Darkkit were trying to claw their way into his thoughts, but he resolutely pushed them away. “Some secrets are better kept.”
Onestar stretched out on a branch of the Great Oak, gazing down at the cats in the clearing below while he listened to Leopardstar meowing on about a couple of dogs that had come dangerously close to the RiverClan border. So far the Gathering had been peaceful, with only routine news to report. He had very proudly announced the births of Heatherkit and Breezekit, then let himself relax and enjoy the brilliant light of the full moon.
Leopardstar had taken a step back, and Blackstar was about to announce the end of the Gathering, when Firestar sprang to his paws. “Crowfeather!” he called out, staring down into the crowd of cats. “I’m surprised to see you here, after that incident the other day.”
“What do you mean?” Leopardstar asked.
“Crowfeather was found lurking on our territory,” Firestar explained, his voice raised so that every cat in the clearing could hear him. “He was close to one of our best herb-gathering places. I sent a patrol to escort him back to Onestar, who agreed to punish him.” He turned to Onestar. “Is that how WindClan punishes wrongdoers?” he demanded. “Allowing them to attend the next Gathering?”
Onestar glanced down and spotted Crowfeather in the crowd, sitting next to Webfoot and Weaselfur. He was gazing up at Firestar, his expression a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
Firestar didn’t wait for an answer to his question. “Kestrelpaw told the other medicine cats that WindClan’s herb stocks were running low,” he continued. “But when I offered to give them some, Onestar refused. Onestar, maybe you prefer your warriors to trespass on another Clan’s territory, stealing herbs, just to protect your pride. Why else would you allow a disgraced warrior to come to a Gathering?”
Onestar couldn’t believe that Firestar was attacking him; it was like being struck by lightning when the sky was clear and blue. Regretfully he realized that he had pushed Firestar away too many times, insisting that they couldn’t be friends while they led rival Clans. So I can’t blame Firestar for finally behaving like a rival.
“Crowfeather was not stealing anything,” he retorted, drawing himself up on his branch and hoping he looked dignified. “Knowing the whole story, I decided there was no need to punish him.”
Blackstar let out a snort of disbelief. “Maybe that’s because you sent him, Onestar,” he suggested. “To spy, or to steal herbs? I dare you to try it with ShadowClan! Your warriors would return bleeding, if they returned at all.”
“Stop that now!” Onestar growled, offended to the tips of his claws. “Of course I would never condone spying. But I am leader of WindClan, not Firestar, despite what Firestar might think. I dealt with my own warrior as I saw fit, and I have no regrets.” Fixing Firestar with a furious glare, he continued, “Are you looking for a fight? WindClan and ThunderClan have been at peace for many seasons, but that can change at any time.”
The air thrilled with tension for the next few heartbeats as Firestar returned Onestar’s challenging gaze. Onestar realized that something had irrevocably changed between them. They had not been friends—true friends—since he’d received his nine lives, but now he felt as if a deep cleft were opening up at their paws, dividing them. He knew they would never recover their earlier friendship.
Firestar was the first cat to look away. “No,” he meowed. “This isn’t worth lives. But if a WindClan warrior is caught trespassing on my territory again, I may adopt Blackstar’s methods.”
Some warriors let out mrrows of amusement, and the tension relaxed a little. With the argument over, Blackstar continued speaking the words that would bring the Gathering to an end.
When Onestar led his cats down to the tree-bridge, he saw that the last of the ThunderClan cats were crossing, but Firestar was waiting beside the tree roots. Waiting for me, Onestar realized.
Warily Onestar approached him, with a twitch of his ears at Barkface, who was padding alongside him, signaling him to stay back. “Well?” he mewed. “What do you want now?”
“I can’t understand why you didn’t punish Crowfeather,” Firestar replied. “I admire him just as much as you do. He’s an outstanding warrior. But this isn’t about how much he has done in the past; it’s about the warrior code.”
Onestar’s anger had calmed down since their exchange during the Gathering, but now it swelled inside him again like a storm cloud about to release a deluge. “I will not punish Crowfeather,” he growled, with a lash of his tail.
“But Onestar . . .” It was clear that Firestar was making an effort to sound reasonable. “As ThunderClan’s ally, you must understand—”
“ThunderClan’s ally?” Onestar interrupted, flexing his claws in the gritty soil. “I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that I’m WindClan’s leader, and I decide what to do with my warriors. Prick your ears, Firestar, because you obviously didn’t hear me the first time: I will not punish Crowfeather. And instead of meddling in our affairs, you would do well to pay better attention to what your own cats are doing—even your own kin.”
Firestar looked puzzled, then nodded. “So this is how it is,” he murmured. “Very well. I hope you’ll remember this conversation the next time WindClan needs ThunderClan’s help.”
“That will be never,” Onestar retorted, and led his cats across the bridge to go home.
Chapter 17
“You know, I just wanted to mention again,” Harespring suggested. “Perhaps we could ask ThunderClan for help when we meet at the Gathering?”
Onestar had called his deputy to his den, intending to discuss the arrangements for that night. Instead, his fur began to bristle as Harespring insisted on talking about WindClan’s latest crisis. Stoats had infested the tunnels that led between WindClan and ThunderClan. In an attempt to drive them out, Nightcloud had disappeared and Breezepelt had been injured; he was overwhelmed with grief at what seemed to be his mother’s death.
Earlier, Harespring had suggested that they should ask for ThunderClan’s help to get rid of the stoats, but Onestar had refused. And now here he was, bringing the idea up again. Onestar had to admit to himself that Harespring was doing the duty of a good deputy, but his belly roiled with fury at the thought of going back on his word of so many seasons ago, and admitting to ThunderClan that WindClan couldn’t cope alone.
That promise had been made to Firestar, but the ThunderClan leader had given up his last life in the Great Battle when the cats of the Dark Forest had erupted into the living world and tried to destroy the Clans. The forest was still shaken by the loss of so many cats. The survivors were struggling to forgive the Clanmates who had taken the side of the Dark Forest. Those warriors had not really understood what the cat spirits intended until it was almost too late, but many survivors still saw their actions as a betrayal.
“This is the first Gathering since the Great Battle,” he meowed curtly. “And the first time we’ll meet Bramblestar as ThunderClan leader. There’ll be more important things to discuss than our difficulty with the stoats.”
In spite of Onestar’s refusal, Harespring went on trying to persuade him. “If nothing else,” he pointed out, “more cats in the tunnels would mean more stoats would be chased off, right?”
“I thought I made myself clear,” Onestar growled. “This is WindClan’s problem to solve, and none of ThunderClan’s business.”
Harespring blinked unhappily. “I know you chose me as deputy to make a point,” he mewed. “That the cats who trained in the Dark Forest before the Great Battle are trustworthy and have been accepted back into the Clan. But I remember how much you admired Ashfoot, and relied on her, and how often you took her advice.”
Onestar felt darkness enveloping him at the memory of Ashfoot, who had been his littermate and his confidante, not to mention Crowfeather’s mother. He tried not to think about the Great Battle, but Ashfoot’s death still haunted him. He respected Harespring, but he couldn’t rely on him the way he had relied on Ashfoot.
He bared his teeth at Harespring, lips drawn back in the beginning of a snarl. “If you had a fraction of Ashfoot’s knowledge, of course I would listen to you. But you don’t!”
Harespring flinched at his anger, not even trying to defend himself, and Onestar realized that he had gone too far.
“You will have to earn my trust,” he continued, “just like every deputy, before and after the Great Battle. Now accept this: I have given you my final answer about the stoats.”
Harespring looked disappointed, but he didn’t try to argue further. “Which cats do you want to take with you to the Gathering?” he asked resignedly.
“We need our strongest warriors,” Onestar mewed thoughtfully. “The other Clans need to see that we’ve made a good recovery from the Great Battle. You will come, of course,” he continued to his deputy, “and Kestrelflight, and Crowfeather. And I think—yes, I think we’ll take Breezepelt. He—”
“Breezepelt?” Harespring interrupted, his eyes widening in shock. “Onestar, are you sure? Is he ready?”
“Ready or not, he needs to be there,” Onestar replied. “Otherwise it will look as if I’m ashamed of him, hiding him away because he sided with the Dark Forest. Breezepelt comes with us.”
Harespring gave a tiny shrug but didn’t protest anymore.
“Larkwing,” Onestar continued, naming another Dark Forest ally, “Heathertail, Sedgewhisker, and Gorsetail. And the two apprentices can come too. Oh, and Weaselfur. That should be enough.”
Harespring frowned. “Do you really want to reward Weaselfur?” he asked. “After the spiteful way he accused Breezepelt at Nightcloud’s vigil? He wanted to make us believe that Breezepelt had killed his mother!”
Irritation prickled every hair on Onestar’s pelt. He was sick of Harespring questioning him, even though with the fairer part of his mind he recognized that questioning the Clan leader was an important part of a deputy’s duties.
He’s actually right about Weaselfur, he admitted to himself. He’s a strong warrior, but he’s a troublemaker. But I’ll seem weak if I back down now.
“Yes, Weaselfur,” he growled. “Now go and round them up.”
Blackstar opened the Gathering by reciting the names of all the cats who had died in the Great Battle. The list seemed to stretch out for seasons, until every cat had been honored.
When it was over, Onestar rose to his paws to make his report. “Thank you, Blackstar,” he began. “I’m afraid I must continue this Gathering by sharing some sad news with the Clans. Nightcloud is dead.”
The cats in the clearing gazed up at Onestar with dismay in their eyes, letting out yowls of shock. Onestar felt a twinge of pride that his warrior clearly commanded respect from all the Clans.
“How did it happen?” Mistystar asked, her voice full of concern.
“She fought so well in the Great Battle,” Blackstar added. “It’s hard to lose her now, after she survived that.”
Onestar was reluctant to explain, but he realized that there was no way of hiding the trouble that WindClan faced. “Stoats have come to live in the tunnels between WindClan and ThunderClan,” he meowed. “Nightcloud—”
Bramblestar interrupted before Onestar could continue. “And of course it never occurred to you to warn ThunderClan about the stoats.”
“I understood that ThunderClan already knew about them,” Onestar retorted. In fact, I know very well you did, because your warriors caught mine emerging from the tunnels on your territory. “I trust you’ve been able to cope?”
“We’re coping very well.” There was the hint of a snarl in Bramblestar’s voice, and his shoulder fur began to rise. “We’ve doubled the patrols in that area, and—”
“Bramblestar, this isn’t the time,” Mistystar mewed; her voice was quiet, but filled with the authority of a Clan leader. “Onestar was speaking.”
Onestar couldn’t help enjoying the ThunderClan leader’s discomfited expression as he clamped his jaws shut. “As I said,” he continued, “stoats are living in the tunnels, and Nightcloud was part of a patrol that tried to clear them out. She never came home.”
His report made, Onestar was about to step back, so that another leader could speak. But at the same moment Weaselfur, down in the clearing, sprang to his paws. “Yeah, ask Breezepelt why not!” he yowled.
Onestar drew in a breath of pure fury. He realized Harespring had been right. He had been mouse-brained to choose Weaselfur to attend the Gathering, after his wild accusations at Nightcloud’s vigil the night before. He was paying for that now.
“Weaselfur, keep your mouth shut!” Harespring called out from where he sat on the roots of the Great Oak with the other deputies.
“Why should I?” Weaselfur swung around to face him. “We all know that Breezepelt was with Nightcloud in the tunnels when the stoats attacked. Why was he the only one who got out alive?”
For a few moments Onestar was uncertain what to do. He was afraid that if he commanded Weaselfur to be quiet, his warrior might not obey. Besides, it was too late. WindClan’s most private affairs were being revealed to the other Clans like maggots in a piece of crow-food.
Wait until we get back to camp, Weaselfur, he thought. You’ll be on dawn patrol for a moon. At least.
While he hesitated, cats of all the other Clans were turning to stare at Breezepelt, making comments to one another. Up in the Great Oak, Onestar couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could see that it wasn’t kind. The ThunderClan cats in particular were involved, and Bramblestar was making no attempt to stop them.
Eventually Breezepelt sprang to his paws, and to Onestar’s horror charged straight at Spiderleg of ThunderClan.
No! Breezepelt, you mustn’t break the Gathering truce!
To his relief, Breezepelt halted in front of the ThunderClan tom, his teeth bared in a furious snarl. “If so many cats have a problem with me, they should say so directly, not prowl around it like little mouse-hearts!”
“Breezepelt, stop now!” Onestar ordered, but Breezepelt either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. He had been goaded too far.
The argument with Spiderleg continued, with Spiderleg’s Clanmate Berrynose sticking a paw in, accusing Breezepelt and other WindClan cats of spying. This time it took Crowfeather standing between the hostile warriors, glaring at each of them in turn, to prevent a skirmish. Onestar stood on his branch, appalled, with no idea what he could do.
Finally Jayfeather, the ThunderClan medicine cat, made himself heard. “Spying or not, why did Nightcloud and Breezepelt go into the tunnels in the first place?”
Onestar drew a huge breath of relief. Finally some cat had asked a sensible question, instead of flinging accusations. “I can answer that,” he meowed. “It was because of the stoats. And because Kestrelflight had a vision. Kestrelflight, tell them about it.”
The young medicine cat rose to his paws, glancing around nervously as every cat turned toward him. “I saw a great wave of water,” he responded. “It swept out of the tunnels and drowned WindClan’s territory. Clearly it was a warning.”
For a few heartbeats silence fell on the clearing, as cats exchanged puzzled or dismayed glances. In the sudden quiet, Bramblestar padded forward to the end of his branch and fixed Onestar with his amber gaze. “Does WindClan intend to share any information with ThunderClan?” he demanded. “This vision wasn’t just a warning for you. It affects ThunderClan too, because some of the tunnels lead into our territory. Why wasn’t I told about this?”
With a massive effort Onestar held on to his rapidly fraying patience. “It was a WindClan vision to warn WindClan. Does ThunderClan need to stick its nose into everything?”
“I’m not trying to meddle.” Bramblestar too was clearly making an effort to stay calm. “But we need to work together to take care of the threat before any more cats get hurt.”
And so we still argue, Onestar thought despondently as Bramblestar continued to insist that their Clans should cooperate. He began to wonder whether Harespring had been right, and he should be prepared for WindClan to work with ThunderClan. It would be a way of honoring Firestar’s memory, and creating a good relationship with the new ThunderClan leader.
