Warriors: Battles of the Clans

by Erin Hunter

  But not all of that battle was shameful. Pouncetail will tell you the story if you ask him nicely enough. He was pretty much the only cat who brought honor to RiverClan that day….

  Ah, I see Nightwhisper is here tonight. See that scrawny brown tom under the thorn tree? He has a tale that will haunt your dreams, if you dare to listen. I’ve heard from his Clanmates that his sleep is haunted, and he wakes shrieking about rivers of blood and the taste of enemy fur in his mouth. He has seen too many battles alongside Tigerstar, I fear.

  But not all of our battles were against other Clans, you know. We have united more than once against a common enemy—there was even a time back in the forest when foxes caused so much trouble, it took all four Clans to drive them out. Maybe Graystripe will tell you about that later. Listen well, young kittypets. The history of our Clans is alive around you, preserved in the memories of every cat.

  Pouncetail Speaks: A Time for Mercy

  I was doing my duty according to the warrior code; that’s all, Dapplenose. But you’re right; a lot of us forgot about compassion that day. We came in support of WindClan, believing they had been treated unfairly over their recent border dispute with ThunderClan. The battle was like a roaring lion by the time we reached the shore below ThunderClan’s camp; we could hear it echoing through the trees, and followed the trails of blood to where cats from the other three Clans wrestled and sliced and spat.

  I wasn’t afraid. I was a warrior: This was what I had been trained for from the moment my eyes first opened. I didn’t know ThunderClan’s territory well, but my Clanmate Blackclaw had visited the hollow once with Mothwing, our medicine cat. He told us about an abandoned Twoleg nest that would give us the advantage of height as well as a place to lie in wait for other cats passing along the old Thunderpath. We crept through the bracken, skirting the hollow, fighting not to get tangled up in the wretched undergrowth.

  At last we crawled out onto a broad stone track speckled with weeds—the old Thunderpath, I guessed. I shook myself, convinced that I’d left half my pelt stuck on brambles. Blackclaw and Reedwhisker had emerged a couple of tail-lengths away on one side; on the other, Dawnflower scrambled out, hissing at a tendril that was trailing after her, stuck to her tail. I ran over and trod on the tendril, letting her pull herself free.

  “This way,” Blackclaw called in a low voice.

  We slunk along the edge of the path, keeping as close to the undergrowth as we could without getting tangled. The sound of fighting came from behind us through the trees as my Clanmates leaped bravely to help WindClan against a patrol of angry ThunderClan cats. Ahead, the stone track was quiet—too quiet. The scent of ShadowClan hung on the breeze, growing stronger as we crept forward.

  Blackclaw stopped in the shelter of some ferns that were straying onto the path. “The Twoleg nest is just beyond here,” he whispered.

  “I don’t like this silence. I can smell ShadowClan close by,” Reedwhisker growled.

  Dawnflower nodded. “They could be using the nest for an ambush of their own.”

  “Then we’ll attack as if we expect them to be there,” Blackclaw decided. “If the nest turns out to be empty, so much the better. Pouncetail, you and Reedwhisker go around the back.” He pointed with his tail. “If I remember correctly, there’s a hole halfway up the wall that you should be able to jump through. Dawnflower and I will take the front entrance.”

  Beside me, Reedwhisker was breathing hard, his claws sinking into the leafy dirt between the cracked stone. I kept my claws sheathed and stared into the undergrowth that blocked my view of the Twoleg nest. I thought I could see a tiny path leading through, perhaps made by a rabbit or a mouse trundling in search of food.

  “Go!” hissed Blackclaw.

  I sprang into the bracken, aiming for the almost invisible trail, with Reedwhisker at my paws. Picking up the scent of mouse, I weaved through the stalks where tiny paws had walked ahead of me, trying not to shudder as fronds clutched at my pelt.

  Suddenly the air ahead dazzled me with light, and I stopped just before I burst into the open. Peering cautiously out, I saw the Twoleg nest, which looked more like a pile of stones crumbling to the ground. There was no sign of any cat, but ShadowClan scent clung to the warm breeze amid the sickly smell of dusty leaves and churned-up bracken. We padded over to the Twoleg nest and waited under the hole in the wall that Blackclaw had described.

  Faint murmurs came from inside: “Can you see anything?”

  “No, but I’m sure I heard a RiverClan cat yowl just now.”

  “Have they come to help WindClan, do you think?”

  “They wouldn’t have had to come all this way to help ThunderClan, would they, mouse-brain? They’d have attacked WindClan from the other side!”

  “No point ruffling our fur about RiverClan,” put in a third voice. “That bunch of fatties wouldn’t take on a mouse if it lay down under their paws.”

  I used my tail to tell Reedwhisker to get ready. When I flicked the tip, we both sprang up to the hole, scrabbling against the rough stone with our hind legs to push ourselves up. I balanced on the narrow wall, blinking to let my eyes adjust to the darkness inside the nest. Three pairs of eyes stared at me in surprise. Before they had a chance to react, I howled, “Attack!” and jumped down into the nest.

  I stumbled as I landed on the pitted earthen floor, and a ShadowClan warrior flung himself onto my back. I let myself keep falling until I was rolling sideways, sending the warrior right over me. I jumped to my paws and spun around to face the small, pale-colored she-cat; the name Whitetail flashed through my mind, but this wasn’t a Gathering. Individual warriors don’t matter in a battle. Only winning matters.

  I waited for her to launch herself at me, then dodged away and flicked my front paw into her face. It was kind of like catching a fish—but with a much easier target. ShadowClan cats are like great, hairy boulders compared with a swift flash of trout! Whitetail screeched and staggered back, bleeding from her nose. Blackclaw was waiting for her, and bit her flank so hard that she left a clump of fur in his teeth as she wrenched herself free and fled.

  Reedwhisker was wrestling with a ShadowClan tom in a corner—it was you, Snaketail, wasn’t it? You fought well, my old friend, and I’ll admit that Reedwhisker got lucky when you hit your head on that lump of stone and gave him a chance to pin you down. The third ShadowClan cat was a brown tom called Antpelt, who’d threatened me at the previous Gathering just because I scolded his apprentice for being rude to an elder. I don’t mind telling you that I relished the chance to get even with him. Blackclaw and I forced him through a gap in the wall into another den, this one smaller and darker than the first. It was hard to spot his dingy pelt in the shadows, but he gave himself away by squeaking like a kit when something scrabbled in the corner—a rat, by the smell of it. Blackclaw and I pounced on the ShadowClan warrior, and thumped his ears until he dashed to the front entrance, still squealing.

  We had captured the Twoleg nest! A jagged wooden slope led up to the rafters of the nest and I ran lightly up, disturbing the thick gray dust with my paws so that motes hung sparkling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced the broken roof. I paced along the nearest length of wood and looked out of a gap beneath the roof. I had a clear view of the Thunderpath in both directions. Blackclaw was right: This place was perfect for an ambush!

  Suddenly there was a screech from below. I looked down through the slats of wood and saw my Clanmates advancing on a cat who seemed to be trying to bury himself in a corner of the nest. It was a ShadowClan warrior, but so streaked with dirt and blood that I couldn’t tell which one.

  Dawnflower looked up. “This one was hiding in here like a coward. His Clanmates won’t thank him for leaving them to face us alone. Shall we teach him a lesson?”

  The cat stared up at me, his blue eyes huge and pale against his filthy pelt. His mouth opened, but only a tiny hoarse cough came out.

  Reedwhisker raised his paw and held it over the cat’s neck. “Shall I finish him
?” he offered. “Or do you want to have that pleasure, Pouncetail?”

  A broken piece of wood sloped down to a heap of stones at the side of the den below me. I padded down the wood, sinking in my claws to stop myself from sliding onto the heads of my Clanmates. As I jumped onto the floor, they stepped back from the ShadowClan cat, giving me the honor of claiming this victory. I walked over to the quivering warrior. He was young, perhaps only a moon or two beyond his apprentice days. Beneath the dirt, his fur was gray, and his front paws were black.

  “You’re Spiderfoot, aren’t you?” I snarled, recognizing him.

  The tom nodded.

  “Stand up,” I ordered.

  Spiderfoot hauled himself to his feet, stumbling on a piece of stone. I nodded to the sloping piece of wood. “Walk up there.”

  Still looking terrified, Spiderfoot jumped over the fallen stones and clawed his way up the beam. I followed.

  “Ah,” growled Blackclaw, sounding satisfied. “Going to see if he has wings instead of the courage of a warrior, are you? Good idea.”

  Spiderfoot reached the gap underneath the roof and stared at me. “Are you really going to push me off?” he whimpered.

  Feeling queasy at his sharp-scented fear, I shook my head. “Not this time.” I twitched my ears toward the jagged slope of wood that led down to the entrance of the nest. “Go back to your Clanmates,” I told him. “And warn them not to underestimate RiverClan warriors again.”

  Spiderfoot gazed at me for a moment more, as if he couldn’t believe I was letting him go, just like that. Then he spun around and fled, leaving deep scores in the dust.

  I followed him more slowly down to the floor of the nest. Blackclaw, Dawnflower, and Reedwhisker were waiting for me with their mouths open.

  “You missed a chance to show ShadowClan just how fierce RiverClan can be,” Blackclaw spat.

  I looked steadily at him. “The warrior code says that we do not have to kill to achieve victory. Having mercy on your enemy, and sparing him to fight another day, shows the greatest courage of all. Where is the honor in winning four against one?”

  I padded toward the entrance. Already I could hear more cats approaching. “Come,” I meowed to my Clanmates. “One battle has been won, but the war is not yet over.”

  Nightwhisper Speaks: A Rogue’s Story

  I was born in the Twolegplace beside the forest where the Clans used to live. My mother was a stray, and never spoke of living with Twolegs, although her coat was soft enough that it wasn’t hard to imagine she had once lived in a red stone nest and been a plump, spoiled kittypet. My littermates and I learned to fight by doing battle with one another amid the looming walls and bright green grass of Twolegplace, keeping out of the way of dogs and other cats, coming out only at night, when the alleyways were quiet and empty.

  By the time I was full-grown, two of my brothers had been killed on the Thunderpaths, and my sister had chosen to live with Twolegs. I saw her sometimes, sprawled on flat white stones outside her housefolk’s nest, or licking her plump belly, her fur stinking of kittypet slop. I was left alone, stealing food from Twoleg scraps, hiding from cats who would have ripped my pelt off for the sake of a chicken bone. Some cats talked to me, when we all had full bellies or were too weak with hunger to fight. They told me that they were exiles from ShadowClan, chased out of their home for breaking the rules of the warrior code. They told me about how the code had once kept them safe and strong and bound in loyalty to the cats who shared their territory. I envied those cats, and secretly thought the exiles were fools to have thrown away what they had before.

  Then another cat came to the Twolegplace. Tall, dark furred, with muscles rippling across his wide shoulders. “My name is Tigerclaw,” he told us. “And I need your help.”

  He came from a different territory from the exiled cats, one that belonged to ThunderClan. The current leader, Bluestar, was weak, and as her deputy, Tigerclaw stood to take over if she died. Bluestar was also holding a brave and noble cat prisoner—ShadowClan’s former leader, Brokentail, who had once been the most feared cat of all the Clans but was now blind and wretched.

  “Join me,” Tigerclaw urged. “Fight beside me, kill Bluestar, and ThunderClan will look to us to lead them instead. Brokentail will be honored as he should be, and we will make our Clan stronger than any other. Our new Clanmates will thank us for getting rid of their frail and mistrustful leader, and we’ll have food and shelter for the rest of our lives.” As he spoke, his burning amber eyes rested on me, and I felt my fur tingle.

  “The cat who kills the flame-colored warrior Fireheart will have a special place in my Clan. Destroy him, and you will walk beside me as my deputy.”

  I felt as though I had finally come home. I could be a warrior, protecting my Clanmates, serving my leader, earning his respect by getting rid of the cats who weakened our Clan and made our territory vulnerable. I would kill Fireheart!

  We ran through the forest, thirsty for blood, bristling with rage against this foolish Clan that clung to their failing leader like moss to a rotten tree. Tigerclaw led us along invisible trails through the undergrowth; brambles raked my ears, but I didn’t care, not even when the salty tang of blood flicked against my muzzle. I would shed more blood than this to fight for Tigerclaw!

  Suddenly the ground dropped away in front of us, and Tigerclaw plunged into a ravine that seemed to be full of nothing but prickly bushes and a few smooth gray boulders. We thrust our way through a tunnel of gorse behind him, and burst out into a sandy clearing, circled by bushes that smelled strongly of cats. Faces popped out around us, wide-eyed with horror.

  “Invaders!” screeched a she-cat, spinning around and diving back into a clump of brambles. I eyed the savage thorns warily, and decided not to follow. More cats leaped out of the undergrowth, sleek and shiny and strong. These must be ThunderClan’s warriors, I thought. But there’s only one I’m interested in.

  I scanned the clearing for a cat the color of flame. Only tabbies and shades of brown stood out against the green branches.

  “ThunderClan! Enemies! Attack!” yowled Tigerclaw, and to my astonishment, he sprang at the cat who had run closest to him through the forest and wrestled him to the ground.

  Was it a trap? Had he lured us here to ambush us with his Clanmates? What had we done to them to deserve this?

  Then I realized that the cat sprawled beneath Tigerclaw wasn’t shrieking in pain; in fact, Tigerclaw’s paws were round and smooth, claws sheathed, and when he bit down on the cat’s neck, he curled his lips over his sharp teeth. This must be part of the plan! Tigerclaw wanted his Clanmates to believe that he was fighting alongside them!

  All around me, the cats from the Twolegplace grappled with Clan warriors, yowling and spitting and slashing with their claws. On the far side of the clearing, a massive black tom with clouded eyes jumped onto the back of a small dirt-colored cat and started battering his ears. That must be Brokentail. I started to go over to help, but stopped when a flash of orange caught my eye. I spun around and stared at the ginger tom leaping across the clearing from the gorse tunnel. Fireheart!

  I lengthened my stride and crashed into him, stretching out my front paws to run my claws down his flank. He shrieked and whirled to face me. Furious green eyes stared into mine, and he lunged toward me with his teeth bared. I knocked him away with a thrust of my head, then sank my claws into his ear and felt the thin flesh tear satisfyingly. Fireheart fell sideways, leaving his pale orange belly open to the sky. One slice with my claws and Tigerclaw would have to make good on his promise….

  Pain shot through my tail and I let out a screech. Whipping around, I saw a golden brown tom clinging to the tip with his teeth. He looked younger than the other warriors by several moons, his fur still kit-soft around his face, but the determination in his eyes made me flinch. I tried to back away but he didn’t let go, and the agony in my tail made my eyes close for a moment. Behind me, I heard Fireheart scramble to his paws, out of reach. I couldn’t fight them
both. I clawed myself across the clearing, heading for the gorse. The young cat kept his jaws locked around my tail until I felt the bone splinter. With a final desperate haul, I made it to the tunnel. The cat released his grip and sprang away. Dazed with pain, I crawled into the gorse and fled, dragging my bleeding tail behind me.

  Tigerclaw lost the battle. I made it back to the Twolegplace, where I hid behind a pile of stinking waste for two days, terrified that ThunderClan warriors would hunt me down, too scared to venture out for food or water. Finally, one of the exiled ShadowClan cats found me and saved my life by bringing me a scrawny bird that he’d found dead by the side of a Thunderpath. He said that warriors from the other side of the river came and helped drive out the invading cats. Tigerclaw had been forced out of the Clan a day later, and vanished. The ShadowClan cat sounded disappointed that Tigerclaw hadn’t come looking for him again.

  I told myself that it would be better to stay away from the Clan cats, to lead my own life without fear of having my tail bitten off or my eyes scratched out. But I couldn’t forget the courage of the ThunderClan warriors as they united against us, the looks in their eyes as they turned their skills in pouncing and killing prey to protect their Clanmates and their home. I wanted to be a part of that, to know that other cats cared about what happened to me—and would spill their own blood for my sake. That awful, screeching battle had shown the best in these cats. And they were better than I could ever be.

  When Tigerclaw came to the Twolegplace again, this time looking for cats to help him take over ShadowClan, I went with him. I don’t know if he remembered me from the first battle, but he let me join his group of rogues, and together we proved our strength to ShadowClan until they let us become their Clanmates, and raised no argument when Tigerclaw announced that he would be their leader. I had found my place at last, and I will never regret the path that led me there. I took a warrior name, Nightwhisper.