Crowfeather's Trial

At his words, Crowfeather felt his paws tingle with a mixture of pity and affection. It was an unfamiliar emotion, and it made him feel that he wanted to go back into the tunnels and fight on Breezepelt’s behalf.

“Neither of you is going unless I say you can,” Onestar pointed out. His voice was sharp, but his gaze was sympathetic as he looked at Breezepelt. “I can’t approve one — or even two — of my warriors charging into those dark tunnels by themselves. I won’t send you there to fight, but—”

“I need to do this!” Breezepelt interrupted.

“Listen.” Onestar gave his tail-tip a single twitch. “I won’t send you to fight, but going to check on the stoats and find out where they’re living — and what their weaknesses might be — wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would help both WindClan and ThunderClan.”

“I’d be good at that,” Heathertail mewed eagerly.

But Onestar had no idea how much time Heathertail had spent underground. “No, I don’t mean for you to go inside the tunnels,” he told her. “That will only provoke the stoats, and we’re not ready for that yet. Keep watch from outside, and see what you can learn.”

Heathertail’s tail-tip twitched, but she didn’t object aloud.

“You could go when it’s dark,” Onestar continued. “Tonight, in fact, if you have the energy.”

Crowfeather gazed at his son, wondering if Breezepelt would accept Onestar’s suggestion, when back at the Gathering he had been so eager to slaughter stoats. He wasn’t sure that the black tom would be able to control his emotions. And how will Onestar react if he can’t?

Breezepelt and Heathertail exchanged a glance, then nodded. “We can do it,” Breezepelt replied.

“The stoats should be out hunting,” Onestar continued. “But if there are any remaining near the tunnel entrances, you must not attack them on your own. It’s too dangerous.”

Crowfeather wondered again whether Breezepelt would object, but now his son just seemed relieved to have something active he could do. “Okay, we won’t,” he promised.

Onestar nodded approvingly. “I’m not sure you two should go by yourselves, though,” he mused. “Perhaps you need one more cat… Hey, Weaselfur!”

The ginger tom, who had been heading for the warriors’ den, halted and turned toward his Clan leader.

Once again, Onestar beckoned him over with his tail.

Weaselfur padded up and dipped his head respectfully to his Clan leader. “Is everything all right, Onestar?” he asked, with an unfriendly glance at Breezepelt.

“Breezepelt and Heathertail are going to keep watch outside the tunnels to find out what they can about the stoats,” Onestar replied. There was a gleam in his eyes as he spoke to Weaselfur, and Crowfeather realized that he was enjoying himself. “You can go with them.”

Weaselfur gaped. “What? Go with him?”

“Do you have a problem with obeying your Clan leader?” Onestar asked, his eyes narrowing.

“No, but—”

“Perhaps this will make you change your mind about making unkind comments during a vigil,” Onestar interrupted. “Not to mention blurting out information at a Gathering that should have been kept within this Clan. I had thought about giving you a moon of dawn patrols, but this will be better. And by the time you return to camp, I expect you to have learned that there are times when you should keep your mouth shut.”

Weaselfur hung his head, his tail drooping. “Yes, Onestar,” he mumbled.

“And since you seem to have a problem with Breezepelt,” Onestar went on, “perhaps it will help you to spend time with him, and work together on a WindClan task. In fact, Weaselfur, it had better.”

Weaselfur nodded, looking completely crushed.

“Don’t worry, Weaselfur,” Heathertail meowed cheerfully. “We won’t let the nasty stoats get you.”

“It’s not the stoats I’m worried about,” Weaselfur retorted in a low hiss. Fortunately for him, it didn’t reach Onestar’s ears as the Clan leader turned away and entered his den.

Breezepelt didn’t look particularly pleased at having Weaselfur as a companion, but Crowfeather was glad to see that he had the sense to say nothing. He also needs to learn that there are times when a cat should hold his tongue.

Crowfeather watched as the three cats turned and headed out of the camp. He could feel nervous flutterings in his belly, as if a nestful of blackbirds were trying out their wings inside him. His paws itched to join his Clanmates, but then he reflected that he couldn’t look after Breezepelt all the time. He had accused Nightcloud of being overprotective, and now it was important for Breezepelt to take responsibility for himself.

Whatever they find at the tunnels, he thought, I just hope it brings Breezepelt a little peace.

Chapter 12