Crowfeather's Trial

Who are you to lecture me, you bee-brain? But before Crowfeather could respond, Breezepelt let out a furious hiss. “It sounds like ThunderClan is planning for trouble — trying to tell other Clans what to do about their Dark Forest warriors. Saying they should be driven out. We’re not the cats who are causing problems!”

Crowfeather winced as a tense silence followed his son’s words. Breezepelt, I may be angry too, but that was a really bad idea. The two ThunderClan she-cats exchanged an alarmed glance, while Spiderleg’s tail lashed even more furiously, and Berrynose slid out his claws and flattened his ears.

“Were you eavesdropping?” he challenged Breezepelt. “Is that what you were up to? Is WindClan spying on us now?”

Crowfeather could see Breezepelt’s muscles bunching beneath his pelt, and stepped forward quickly before his son could leap at Berrynose. Crowfeather realized he was in the strange position of trying to temper another cat’s anger. Usually he was the angry cat. But as much as he would have liked to claw Berrynose’s mangy pelt off and use it to line his nest… they were outnumbered here. And Onestar probably wouldn’t like it if they accidentally started a war with ThunderClan.

“Breezepelt wasn’t up to anything,” Crowfeather assured them. “We were just in the tunnels…” He paused, wondering whether he ought to tell them about Nightcloud. If they know stoats possibly killed one of our warriors, they might try to interfere, because that’s what ThunderClan does… “We weren’t spying, or trying to cause trouble,” he went on rapidly, before the ThunderClan warriors could get annoyed at his hesitation. “The stoats took us by surprise, and we didn’t realize we’d ended up close to ThunderClan until it was too late.”

Spiderleg’s gaze flicked from Crowfeather to Breezepelt and back again. “I suppose you might have had your reasons,” he admitted grudgingly. “But given everything that’s happened, we really should take you to Bramblestar.”

“Yes, just to make sure he knows exactly what’s going on,” Berrynose agreed.

“You can try,” Breezepelt growled.

Crowfeather fixed him with a glare. He sympathized with his son’s anger, but if he started a fight with the ThunderClan cats, there was no guarantee either one of them would come out of it alive. He urged him silently to keep quiet.

“Hang on, Spiderleg,” Cinderheart meowed. “Aren’t you making too much of this? It’s not like we caught Crowfeather and Breezepelt stealing prey. Wouldn’t it be better just to escort them off our territory?”

Finally, Crowfeather thought, A ThunderClan cat speaks reason.

“And we can report this to Bramblestar without them,” Rosepetal added.

“You bet we will,” Berrynose muttered.

Flea-brain.

He and Spiderleg exchanged a glance; then Berrynose shrugged. “I suppose they might be right.”

At a nod from Spiderleg, Crowfeather stalked away from the tunnel entrance and headed for the stream that formed the border with ThunderClan. Breezepelt followed him, with the ThunderClan cats following in a ragged half circle.

At first Crowfeather was relieved that the tension has passed and that he and Breezepelt were not going to be dragged into the fight that he was fearing. But then he remembered why they’d stepped into the tunnels, and his relief was replaced with a twinge of bitterness, a sick feeling in his throat, as if he had eaten crow-food.

That went about as badly as it could have, he thought. And we still haven’t found Nightcloud.

“Don’t come back,” Berrynose snarled as Crowfeather and Breezepelt padded across the stepping stones to the WindClan side of the stream. “And stay out of the tunnels. Next time you get into danger, ThunderClan might not be around to save your tails.”

Breezepelt opened his jaws to retort, but he closed them again when Crowfeather slapped him on the shoulder with his tail. Both WindClan cats watched in silence as the ThunderClan warriors turned and vanished into the undergrowth.

Crowfeather’s fur was tingling with anger — partly at the arrogance of the ThunderClan cats, but mostly at his own son.

“If you had just kept your jaws shut, we wouldn’t have had that argument. Whatever tension remains between ThunderClan and WindClan after the Great Battle, you’ve just made it worse.”

“But they were talking about driving cats out,” Breezepelt responded. Crowfeather could see his own anger reflected in his son’s eyes. “It might start with the cats who fought for the Dark Forest, but who’s to say it will stop there? What if they decide it will make their whole Clan safer if they just drive the whole of WindClan away?”