Warriors: Battles of the Clans

by Erin Hunter

  Longtail bunched his hindquarters underneath him. “Should I go and get help?” he offered.

  Tigerclaw shook his head. “There’s no time. We must try to head them off ourselves.”

  Darkstripe gulped. “But there are only five of us. It looks like they’ve brought the whole Clan to invade!”

  “They’ll rip us to shreds!” Ravenpaw whimpered.

  “Not if we rip them first,” Tigerclaw vowed. “We’ll use the Lightning Strike: Hit them hard and fast, retreat, then attack again from the same direction.”

  Squirrels, I thought. Squirrels running in circles.

  “Squirrels!” I said out loud.

  Tigerclaw looked at me as if I’d gone mad. “No, ShadowClan invaders,” he growled. “Great StarClan, if you can’t catch a single piece of prey, how am I supposed to lead you into battle?”

  “No, we have to think like squirrels,” I insisted. “At least, the squirrel that I lost up that tree. He circled me, making me think there were two of him. It…it was confusing.”

  Darkstripe snorted. “Okay, you go back and persuade your fluffy-tailed friend to help us, and we’ll take care of the fighting,” he suggested with a meaningful look at Tigerclaw.

  But the dark tabby warrior was staring thoughtfully at me. “Go on,” he prompted.

  My fur felt hot and prickly. “I…I haven’t exactly thought it out,” I stammered, “but I thought if we did a Lightning Strike on one side, then regrouped on the other side and…er…pretended to be different cats, ShadowClan might think there were more of us. It would be like a…a double Lightning Strike.”

  “Oh, yes, because ShadowClan warriors are blind and have no sense of smell, so they think every ThunderClan cat looks like us,” sneered Longtail. He flicked his tail.

  Tigerclaw raised one front paw. “Wait. This might work.” He turned to face the other cats. “If we attack fast enough and cause enough confusion, the invaders won’t have a chance to recognize us. You three, follow my orders, and don’t lose sight of the rest of the patrol.”

  Whoa! Tigerclaw was actually going to listen to my idea?

  “Ravenpaw, go to the ravine and tell Bluestar what is happening,” he ordered. “If the plan doesn’t work, we’ll need backup fast.”

  Ravenpaw vanished into the ferns like a snake.

  Tigerclaw spun around and leaped through the trees in the direction of the invaders. Longtail and Darkstripe sprang after him, and I followed. My first real battle! The blood roared in my ears, and I opened my mouth wide to inhale the scents of the strangers that tainted the fresh, green-tasting air.

  “Keep still!” Tigerclaw hissed over his shoulder. “Enemy dead ahead.”

  I peered over the heads of the other cats to see the line of ShadowClan warriors slinking along a fox path. They were moving slower now, as if they were unsure exactly where the ThunderClan camp was.

  “Ready?” Tigerclaw demanded. “Attack!”

  Without checking to see if we were following, he plunged out of the undergrowth and leaped with a roar onto the cat at the back of the ShadowClan line. The short-tailed brown tom didn’t have time to let out a yowl before he was knocked to the ground. Tigerclaw used the tom’s face to push off with his hind paws as he launched himself toward the next cat. Darkstripe tore past and sank his outstretched front claws into another warrior, while Longtail and I tackled the brown tom at the back as he tried to struggle to his feet.

  The cats at the head of the line came racing back, teeth bared and hackles raised. There was no time to think about battle moves, about balancing my weight evenly on my hind paws and landing each blow perfectly. Instead, I spun and slashed and snarled until the trees blurred around me. Delicate ear skin caught under one of my claws; with a wrench, I ripped my paw clear and felt a thin spray of blood land on my muzzle.

  “ThunderClan, retreat!” Tigerclaw’s command cut through the pant and hiss of the fighting. I sheathed my claws and sprang into the nearest patch of ferns. Glancing back, I saw Longtail blink in satisfaction and raise one front paw to check his claws for trapped fur. Out in the open, the invaders began to talk.

  “Did we beat them?” That was the short-tailed tom, who was bleeding heavily from one ear.

  The white cat with black paws who had led the patrol looked around. I realized that it was Blackfoot, the ShadowClan deputy; I’d seen him and a couple of the other cats at a Gathering.

  “We must have,” Blackfoot growled. “Mouse-hearted cowards. They can’t even defend their own territory!”

  “Should we keep going?” asked a red-furred she-cat. Her eyes gleamed, and she seemed the least daunted by the attack out of all of them.

  “In a moment, Russetfur,” said Blackfoot. “We’ll let Stumpytail get his breath back first.”

  “This way,” Tigerclaw whispered. Turning with difficulty in the crowded space, he pushed his way out of the ferns on the other side from the fox path. He drew the tip of his tail across his mouth, warning us to keep silent, then padded softly in a circle around the ShadowClan warriors, leaping across the fox path when they were out of sight and plunging into the undergrowth on the far side. There were more brambles than ferns here, and I bit my tongue to stop myself from yelping when thorns scratched my spine.

  “Quick!” Tigerclaw hissed. “Before they start moving again.” He forced his way through the tangled prickles until we had drawn level with the invaders. “Remember to scuff up the sand with your paws so that they can’t see us clearly. Now!”

  He hurled himself out of the branches with Darkstripe at his heels. Longtail followed, and I pushed out after them. My head was still ringing from the last skirmish, and my legs felt trembly from the race around to the other side of the path. But the plan seemed to have worked: The ShadowClan warriors reacted as if this were a completely new patrol come to attack them.

  “Where did the others go?” panted Stumpytail, ducking out of the way of Longtail’s flailing front paws.

  “Keep an eye behind you,” warned Blackfoot through clenched teeth. “In case they try to sneak up on us.”

  “I’m sure I heard one of them call another one Longtail,” hissed Russetfur. “I’ll remember that name.”

  I blinked. Are you sure about that, Russetfur? “Hey, Runningwind!” I yowled. “I need some help over here!”

  Longtail looked at me in surprise. He started to say something, then nodded. “Coming, Graypaw!” He sprang over Stumpytail, who had been rolled over by Darkstripe, and kept pace with me as we trapped a pale tabby tom against the brambles and pulled out a few clawfuls of silvery fur.

  “Good strike, Lionheart!” Darkstripe called behind us, as Tigerclaw sent Blackfoot stumbling against a rock.

  The massive dark tabby spun around to face his warriors. “ThunderClan, away!”

  Dodging a swipe from Russetfur, who had come to rescue the silver tabby, I leaped sideways into the brambles. Tigerclaw and the others joined me, their flanks heaving. Kicked-up sand and dust clung to the blood that had splashed on their fur, and one of Darkstripe’s eyes was half-closed from a well-placed blow.

  “Final strike,” hissed Tigerclaw. “Longtail and Darkstripe, you stay here. Dustpaw, come with me. When I give the signal, attack from both sides and make it seem as if the whole of ThunderClan is behind us. Okay?”

  Grim nods; then Tigerclaw plunged back into the brambles, leaving me scrambling to catch up. We crossed the path out of sight from the ShadowClan warriors and returned to our original strike point. The invading cats were huddled in the dirt, staring around as they waited for the next attack.

  “Do you think we should leave before they come back?” Stumpytail whispered.

  Tigerclaw didn’t give the other invaders a chance to reply. “Attack!” he screeched, flinging himself through the ferns. From the far side of the path came the sound of Darkstripe and Longtail crashing out of the brambles, blood-spattered hackles raised and claws unsheathed.

  “Over here, Redtail!” I yowled over my shoulder as
I leaped into the fray.

  “We’ve trapped them, Bluestar!” Longtail added.

  The ShadowClan cats whirled in alarm. “They’ve brought the whole Clan!” gasped Russetfur.

  Blackfoot paused, muzzle-to-muzzle with Tigerclaw. “You win this time,” he snarled. “But watch your borders, because we’ll be back!” Then he lifted his head and called, “ShadowClan, retreat!”

  Tigerclaw stepped back, giving a flick of his tail to warn the ThunderClan cats to do the same. I watched in satisfaction as the ShadowClan cats limped past, leaving a trail of scarlet dots in the sand.

  My plan had worked, and my Clan was safe from the ShadowClan invasion.

  SHADOWCLAN

  * * *

  SHADOWCLAN FACTS

  Leader: Blackstar

  Deputy: Rowanclaw

  Medicine cat: Littlecloud

  Hunting territory: Pine forest

  Camp: Bramble-enclosed dip beneath pine trees

  Unique battle skill: Night ambush

  * * *

  Rowanclaw’s Welcome

  Greetings, Onestar. Why have you come to ShadowClan’s territory? Ah, I see you have brought companions. Is WindClan recruiting kittypets now?

  Do you really expect me to invite you into our camp and explain why ShadowClan has the most feared warriors in all the Clans? Our strengths are our secrets, my friend. Would I ask you to train my Clanmates to run as swiftly as you do, or to hunt rabbits? I think not.

  But I would not be betraying my role as Blackstar’s deputy if I reminded you that ShadowClan earned its name for a reason. We are night hunters, our senses most alert in the darkness and silence that befuddles other cats. We can slip noiselessly through shadows like fish through black water, and speak to one another without words. Unlike the other Clans, who cling to moonlight or the watchful shine of StarClan, we like the freedom that is found in the darkest nights.

  When it comes to battle, we waste no time rallying our warriors with speeches or promises of glory; they know what is expected of them, and they will deliver or face the shame of betraying their Clan. While the other Clans arrange themselves in lines and circles and elaborate battle plans, we swoop and strike and vanish into the night. We fight to win, nothing else.

  Go now, and leave us to train in the dead of night. May StarClan—not ShadowClan—walk in your dreams.

  Special Battle Tactic: Tigerheart Teaches the Night Ambush

  Gather around, apprentices. I know it’s dark, but you can hear my voice, can’t you? That’s right, over here. No, Olivepaw, you’re not going to fall into any foxholes. I checked earlier today that this would be a good place for our ambush practice. Maybe one day you will have to navigate somewhere with holes waiting to trip you up, but hopefully you’ll be more experienced by then, and more confident about moving around at night. That’s if you live that long, Scorchpaw. Come down from that tree at once. No, I can’t see any better than you can, but I have ears, and a deaf badger would have heard your claws scraping on the bark when you climbed up. And the fact that your scent is now coming from above my head is also a giveaway.

  Shrewpaw, Redpaw, Owlpaw, are you here? Good. Now, I want everyone to stand very still and close their eyes. Who is snoring? Scorchpaw, that’s not nearly as funny as you think it is. Only horses sleep standing up, and if you’d like to go live with them and eat grass all day, I’m sure Blackstar can arrange it.

  Right, keep your eyes closed until I tell you. Mouths closed, too, Owlpaw. If I can hear you whispering, then so can the enemy. Use your other senses: What can you hear? Smell? Taste? Feel on your fur? Well? Anyone?

  Okay, you can open your mouth if I’ve asked you a direct question. Good, Shrewpaw. There’s a breeze coming from the lake, bringing the scent of water and fish and RiverClan. But not strong enough to suggest they’re any closer than their territory. You think you can hear ThunderClan snoring, Scorchpaw? No, you can’t. The day Blackstar receives a prophecy about a cat with the ability to hear farther than any other creature, then I’ll believe you.

  Yes, Redpaw, there is a pair of owls calling to each other beyond the inland border. And one of those kittypets in the Twoleg nest is making its usual fuss about being shut in on a fine night for hunting. So our senses have told us that our territory is empty save for the creatures that live alongside us—no trespassers, nothing that seems out of place. Now, open your eyes. Yes, Olivepaw, it’s still very dark. But you can see a little more clearly, can’t you? Your eyes have started to adjust to seeing without light. Look at how the trees are outlined against the sky. Down on the ground, you still won’t be able to see much, but thicker shadows could be a bush, or even another cat. The more you practice moving around at night, the easier it will become. The other Clans are frightened and baffled by the dark; without the sense of sight, they are as helpless as kits. Only ShadowClan understands the power of the night, and sees it as a strength.

  Tonight, we are the ambush patrol. We are going to lie in wait for our enemy, and launch a surprise attack using the darkness to hide us and weaken our rivals before we unsheathe a single claw. First we need to find an attack zone, a place where we can wait without being seen or scented, with enough room to fight when the other cats arrive. Any ideas? Good, Shrewpaw. This gully is just what we’re looking for. The sides are high and steep, so if we attack from each end, the enemy won’t be able to escape. It’s an obvious route to the camp, so we can be confident that any invaders would pass through it. And we can hide in the bushes at the top, with the advantage of attacking from above.

  Redpaw, why don’t you pick a bush on the side of the gully where we can hide? Hmmm, maybe not so far from the edge. We need to be able to hear our enemy approaching, and see them when they enter the gully. This one’s better. Right, squash in, everybody.

  So, we’re hidden up here, but it would be good to know when the enemy is coming near. We need an early warning patrol, just two cats to keep track of the invaders as they head toward the gully. Imagine that you’re following them, and need to warn the ambush patrol to be ready for the attack. What call would you give?

  Well, Owlpaw, that was a very good imitation of an owl, but perhaps the patrol might think it was a real owl? What noise would travel clearly on a night like this, but stand out only to cats who live in this part of the territory? How about, Ssssssssss? Not a snake, Olivepaw. The wind in the trees! Why would that work tonight? That’s right, because the breeze coming off the lake shouldn’t be enough to move the branches of pine trees. Cats from the other territories won’t know that, as this is the only place where pine trees grow by the lake.

  What little breeze there is would work in our favor tonight, carrying the scent of the invaders toward us and hiding our own from them. We need to spread out along the top of the gully; if this were a real ambush patrol, we’d have enough cats to line the other side, too. We take up our positions, always within earshot of the leader of the patrol, and wait. Let me see you all waiting now.

  What problem would we have if there were moonlight or starlight? That’s right, Redpaw. Our shadows. We’d need to stay on the dark side of the bush to keep our outlines hidden, too. Remember, if you can see the enemy, the enemy can see you. That’s why darkness is our ally.

  Imagine that the enemy is entering the gully. Who should attack first? Yes, Shrewpaw. The cats at each end of the gully go down first, to trap the enemy and let them know that they are surrounded. Then the others attack, straight down the sides, using the weight of our fall as part of the first blow. Apprentices, strike!

  Oof! Redpaw, get your tail out of my mouth! Who’s that underneath me? Get up, Olivepaw. No, your tail isn’t broken. It’s just a bit…dented. In a real ambush, no one would get squashed, apart from the enemy. Remember I told you that we’d be in a line along the top of the gully? Well, we’d hold that line as we attacked. What’s the use in landing on one or two invading cats in one big lump, leaving their Clanmates free to fight? We’d hope to outnumber them in order to overpowe
r them as swiftly as possible. Once the command to attack has been given, there will be no other orders. You each know what you have to do.

  As soon as the enemy surrenders or begs to flee, the fighting stops. Stand still with your head held high. You are a ShadowClan cat; we do not gloat over our defeated enemies. We simply wait for them to leave, knowing they will be in no haste to return. And when they have gone, head for the closest shadow before you go back to the camp. Make no sound. Melt back into the night, so that if our enemy looks back, they see nothing but emptiness. The forest is ours—and we are unseen. The night, the darkness, the cold still air, all belong to ShadowClan. That is our ancestors’ gift to us, and we honor their memory with every ambush. It is up to you to prove that you are worthy of that gift and will preserve the night as our greatest weapon.

  * * *

  TAIL SIGNALS

  ShadowClan was the first to devise a system of tail signals, which are now used by all four Clans. Generally, the leader of a patrol is responsible for giving the signals; warriors learn to keep the leader’s tail in sight at all times and react at once when an order is given.

  TAIL HELD ERECT: “Stop.”

  TAIL RIPPLING: “Move forward with care.”

  TAIL HELD ERECT AND SWEEPING SLOWLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE: “Retreat silently.”

  TAIL POINTING LOW, PARALLEL TO GROUND, AND SWEEPING: “Spread out.”

  TAIL FLATTENED: “Get down.”

  TAIL BOBBING: “Enemy sighted.”

  TAIL HOOKED: “Danger.”

  TAIL POINTED SHARPLY: “Go that way.”

  TAIL HELD ERECT AND WAVING FROM SIDE TO SIDE: “Stay behind me.”

  TAIL KINKED OVER BACK: “Follow me.”

  * * *

  Blackstar Speaks: Ambush by the Lake

  Oakfur, Cedarheart, wait!” I hissed to the warriors ahead of me. My Clanmates stopped on the edge of the hard black stone where Twolegs left their monsters. This was the border of ShadowClan’s territory; from here on, we would be in RiverClan. Rowanclaw and Tawnypelt joined us, their eyes glowing in the pale starlight. Clouds covered the moon, a clear advantage to the keenly night-sighted ShadowClan cats. Those mangy RiverClan fish-eaters were about to be taught that promises had to be kept—especially when they were made to ShadowClan. They’d had a chance to solve this peacefully and turned it down.