Crowfeather's Trial

It seemed to Crowfeather that as soon as he and Harespring had emerged from the thorn tunnel and advanced a few paces into the camp, the gaze of every cat was trained on them. They don’t look friendly, either. Every cat must know what Onestar said to Bramblestar.

“Wait here,” Poppyfrost ordered them curtly.

She raced across the camp and bounded up the tumbled rocks that led to Bramblestar’s den halfway up the camp wall. Crowfeather exchanged a glance with Harespring.

“Let me do the talking,” the deputy meowed. “And for StarClan’s sake, don’t say anything to annoy Bramblestar.”

“I’m not stupid,” Crowfeather muttered.

A moment later, Bramblestar appeared from his den and picked his way down the rocks to the camp floor. As he approached, Crowfeather could see that he seemed surprised and wary; his amber eyes were cold as he looked the two WindClan cats up and down.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Harespring dipped his head respectfully. “Greetings, Bramblestar. We’ve come to ask for ThunderClan’s help. We need a medicine cat.”

Bramblestar was silent for a moment, his gaze flicking from Harespring to Crowfeather and back again. “You need a medicine cat,” he repeated. “You’re asking for our help, after Onestar insulted me when I came to offer my help with the stoats?”

“We’ve had more trouble with them,” Harespring responded. “Many of our cats are injured.”

Bramblestar hesitated for a heartbeat, then turned to Squirrelflight, who had padded up to stand at her leader’s shoulder. “I don’t want any cat to suffer,” he meowed. “Fetch Leafpool and Jayfeather, please.”

As Squirrelflight left, Bramblestar faced the WindClan cats again, giving his whiskers a disdainful twitch. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Harespring hesitated, casting an uncertain glance at Crowfeather, who could share his tension, knowing what Bramblestar’s reaction was likely to be. “We came up with a plan to deal with the stoats,” Harespring admitted at last. “We blocked up the tunnel entrances on our side, but that only made them angry. They attacked our camp last night. We—”

“So you haven’t dealt with the stoats?” Bramblestar’s voice was a hiss of fury, and the fur on his muscular shoulders began to rise. “I suppose it didn’t occur to you that if you blocked up the tunnels at your end, that would drive the stoats out into ThunderClan territory? Or did you realize that, but you just didn’t care? It never crossed your mind that you might warn us?” He let out an angry snort. “I thought Onestar was an experienced leader. He said he had this under control!”

Harespring couldn’t find words to reply, merely flexing his claws in the earth floor of the camp. Crowfeather thought that the silence would stretch out forever. I’m glad Harespring is doing the talking. I wouldn’t know what to say to that, either.

He was aware that the rest of the Clan was gathering around, their ears pricked eagerly to listen to this confrontation. The whole of ThunderClan will know how badly we’ve handled this!

Squirrelflight returned with Leafpool and Jayfeather, and the three cats thrust their way through the crowd to join the group at its center.

Bramblestar was the first to break the silence. “Tell me if I have this straight,” he began; his voice was soft, but every word bit as hard as a fox’s fangs. “I went to Onestar to offer ThunderClan’s help in driving out the stoats. Onestar insulted me and my whole Clan, and insisted he would take care of the problem himself. His plan was a disaster, because he did not have the problem under control, and now he’s sending you to ask for ThunderClan’s help. Is that correct?”

Harespring was obviously finding it difficult to meet the ThunderClan leader’s gaze. “Yes,” he mumbled at last.

“I want to hear you say it,” Bramblestar growled. “I want to hear you say that Onestar’s decisions got his Clan into trouble and he needs ThunderClan’s help.”

Harespring’s only response was to cast a helpless glance at Crowfeather. You wanted to do the talking, Crowfeather thought. So talk now. Can’t you see that we don’t have any choice?

“Well?” Bramblestar asked, the tip of his tail twitching irritably.

“We got ourselves into trouble and we need ThunderClan’s help,” Crowfeather replied instantly. “I’m sorry for what happened,” he added, “but we need help right now, not anger. Cats could die.”

Bramblestar paused for a moment; Crowfeather felt as though his belly were full of squabbling stoats as he waited for the ThunderClan leader’s decision. What kind of leader will he turn out to be? he asked himself.

Eventually Bramblestar nodded. “Very well. Leafpool may go with you.”