Warriors: Battles of the Clans

by Erin Hunter

  “If I survive this, I will be,” I meowed softly.

  My mother looked at me, then nodded. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Cloudtail,” she ordered without taking her gaze from me. Then she spun around and raced for the nursery, where Squirrelflight was standing guard.

  Cloudtail opened his mouth to speak, but a huge shadow fell across him and he looked up, shutting his jaws with a snap. A badger loomed over us, fury gleaming in its tiny black eyes. With a roar, it struck out with one front paw and sent Cloudtail spinning across the clearing. I backed away, desperately trying to think of the battle moves I’d just learned. But I was aware only of the ground under my paws and the tip of my tail brushing against brambles. I thought how pale I must look against the dark green thorns, my white pelt shining like the full moon. I’m over here! Come and eat me!

  The badger opened its jaws, revealing pointed yellow teeth and a lolling red tongue. I wondered if it would hurt much when the badger sank its teeth into me. Everything seemed to have gone quiet; had the rest of the fighting stopped?

  “Leave her alone!” There was a screech somewhere behind the badger, and a heavy white shape launched itself onto the creature’s shoulders. Cloudtail! The badger reared backward and snaked its neck around, trying to bite him.

  The noise of the battle crashed into my ears, and the ground beneath me trembled as bodies thudded around the hollow. I unsheathed my claws and sprang up, reaching for the badger’s tiny curled ears. The pelt was thinnest there, just like on a cat, so I stood the best chance of reaching skin. I thumped against the side of the badger’s head and tried to catch hold, but my paws slipped off the stinking black fur. Looking down, I realized in horror that my claws were so filled with hair from Brackenfur’s pelt after our training session that I couldn’t sink them into the badger’s flesh.

  I fell back to the ground with a thud and frantically yanked the fur out with my teeth. I rolled sideways, between the badger’s front and hind legs. Then sensing a pointed muzzle swooping down toward me, I leaped for its ear again, and this time my claws ripped into soft skin. I clung on, scrabbling with my hind legs against the badger’s shoulder.

  Cloudtail was on the other side of the creature, staring up at me in amazement.

  “Go help Brightheart!” I screeched. “You have to get Daisy’s kits out!”

  To my relief, he whipped around and vanished into the throng of cats. Badgers reared among them like black-and-white islands looming over a swirling brown-and-tabby lake. Beneath me, my badger bucked and plunged downward, trying to flip me off. I wrenched my claws free from its ear, wincing as an arc of blood spattered across my eyes, and sprang away just as the badger crashed onto the ground.

  I had never felt more alive. On the far side of the hollow, Squirrelflight led Daisy up the tiny path to the top of the cliff. Brightheart, Cloudtail, and Brambleclaw followed, each carrying one of Daisy’s kits. StarClan, please let them be safe, I prayed.

  “Whitepaw!” There was a wail from the bottom of the cliff, and I saw my denmate Birchpaw crouching with his back to the stone as a male badger padded toward him. The badger moved slowly, knowing his prey was trapped.

  “Climb, Birchpaw!” I yowled. His eyes met mine, huge and dark with terror, and for a moment I thought he had frozen to the spot, but then he turned and began scrabbling at the rock with his front paws.

  “Reach higher!” I called, spotting a paw hold a mouse-length above his head. Birchpaw pushed with his hind feet and sank his claws into the dirt lodged in a crevice in the cliff. He hauled himself up, his haunches dangling behind him, and hung from one paw.

  “Come on! Climb higher!” I hissed through my teeth, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear me now.

  Miraculously, Birchpaw found a place to grip with his hind paws and started to heave himself farther up the wall. But then his front leg twisted and his claws slid out of the crevice, and I watched in horror as my denmate slithered down, down, down, to where the badger waited for him with one paw raised for a killing blow.

  “Birchpaw!” I screamed, and shut my eyes, waiting for the final strike.

  There was a roar from the badger—not of triumph but of rage. I opened my eyes and saw the creature hunched over a crack at the foot of the cliff. There was a flash of light brown fur against the stone, and I realized that Birchpaw had somehow squeezed himself out of reach. Until the badger’s fury tore apart the stone and it launched itself on Birchpaw…

  In three bounds, I reached the badger and crouched down by its haunches. Leap-and-hold. That was the only way I could inflict any real damage. Jump now, while it’s distracted.

  “Help!” Birchpaw yowled from his tiny hiding place.

  I pressed down with my hind paws and sprang onto the badger, landing with my paws on either side of its spine. I thrust my claws through the dense, bristly fur and kept my weight low as the creature reared up, twisting as it tried to bite me. I wasn’t here just to hang on; I needed to injure it enough to get it away from Birchpaw. Sinking in deeper with my hind claws, I released one front paw and slashed at the badger’s face as it turned toward me. My foot shot through the air and I nearly lost my balance. Clinging on, I tried again, and this time felt a satisfying wrench in my front leg as I made contact with the badger’s cheek and ripped a long wound from the corner of its eye to its jaw.

  The creature bellowed in pain and hauled itself away from the foot of the cliff. I saw Birchpaw scramble out. He left a thick trail of blood and his face was swollen, but he was alive. His mother, Ferncloud, raced over to him and sheltered him with her body as they fled around the edge of the hollow.

  I clung on to the badger as it plunged and snapped. You tried to kill my friend! I had saved Birchpaw’s life, but there was no time to savor the victory. I sliced again and again with my claws, scoring deep wounds through the badger’s pelt until my paws were tufted with black-and-white fur. The creature started to sink to its knees and I braced myself, ready to jump free when it tried to roll over and crush me. The badger’s muzzle thudded onto the ground and it let out a long groan as it slumped onto its belly. I stayed crouched on its back, wondering if this was a new trick.

  “Whitepaw, get off!” It was Dustpelt, yowling to me from halfway up a hawthorn bush. “You’ve won!”

  Dazed, I sprang down to the ground and stared at my enemy. Its eyes were half-closed, and its breath came in quick, shallow gasps. Had I really killed a badger?

  Teeth sank into the scruff of my neck and I let out a yelp of fear.

  “Get away from it! It’s not dead!” Dustpelt hissed in my ear as he dragged me away. “But you did well to stun it. Come on, stay close.”

  He led me to the hawthorn tree and shoved me into the branches. I clung to a swaying twig, catching my breath and gazing out at the hollow. The stone walls were streaked with blood, and the grass was hidden beneath writhing bodies—and ominous furry lumps where cats had fallen and not gotten up again. My legs ached from the effort of holding on to the badger, and my eyes stung from the rancid blood, but I couldn’t stay here. My Clanmates needed me.

  I scrambled down the tree and ran out into the clearing. A badger with one ear almost completely torn off lunged toward me; wondering briefly whether that was the badger that had attacked Cloudtail and me at the start, I swerved away and fled toward the barrier—or what remained of the barrier, after the badgers had trampled it down. A shadow fell across me, and I looked up at a narrow black-and-white face. I tried to dodge away, but one of my paws was trapped under a bramble. I flattened myself to the ground and let out a wail.

  “StarClan, help me!”

  Paws thudded toward me, and Squirrelflight sprang to my side, front paws raised. I waited for her to strike, but there was a pause. Peering up, I saw the she-cat staring in astonishment at the badger that was about to eat me. In a strange, high-pitched voice, she meowed, “It’s okay, Whitepaw. This is Midnight.”

  The badger that had told the Clans where to find their new home when they wer
e driven out of the old forest had come to help us—bringing warriors from WindClan, fresh and hungry for victory. They fought alongside my Clanmates and drove out the badgers, giving them scars to remember us by. We had won the battle—but at a terrible cost. Rainwhisker, Sootfur, and Cinderpelt all died in the attack.

  Every ThunderClan cat was a hero that day. Sometimes I think my pelt still smells of blood, and when I’m hunting alone in the woods, every rustle reminds me of badgers marching against my home. We were saved by our battle skills, and we will use them again if we must.

  Mousefur Speaks: The Deserter

  This story takes place in the old forest, on the border beside the Thunderpath. Our territory ended here, and ShadowClan’s began on the other side. Lionpaw was on a border patrol with his mentor, Swiftbreeze, his denmate Bluepaw, and her mentor, Sunfall, the ThunderClan deputy. The scent of ShadowClan was too strong to be drifting across the Thunderpath on the wind—there was barely a breeze on this cold, gray day in early newleaf. Sunfall had led his patrol close to the edge of the Thunderpath, carefully sniffing each bush for signs of trespassers.

  “Well, look what we have here!” came a snarl from the foot of a beech tree. “A patrol of ThunderClan warriors! Ooh, I’m scared now!”

  A bright ginger tom stepped forward, still curling his lip, and blocked their way.

  Sunfall halted and allowed the fur to rise on his neck. “You’re trespassing, Foxheart,” he growled. “What are you doing on this side of the Thunderpath?”

  Foxheart looked back at his Clanmates. “Great StarClan, these warriors ask difficult questions! What are we doing here, Crowtail?”

  A skinny black she-cat put her head to one side, pretending to think. Then she straightened up. “I remember! We’re hunting prey.”

  Lionpaw gulped. There was something in the way the she-cat had looked straight at him that made him feel as if her prey were ThunderClan apprentices. He glanced at Swiftbreeze, but she was glaring at the intruders, her tail kinked stiffly over her back.

  A small white tom, his face still fringed with fluffy kit fur, padded forward to stand beside Crowtail. “We’re chasing a rabbit,” he announced. “It came from our territory, which means it’s still ours.”

  “That’s enough, Cloudpaw.” A flash of anger swept across Foxheart’s expression, and Lionpaw wondered whether the apprentice would get in trouble later on for speaking up. “We don’t have to explain ourselves.”

  Another cat emerged, his dark gray pelt well hidden among the shadows beneath the tree. “That’s right. ThunderClan patrols don’t scare us.”

  “Well, they should!” Bluepaw hissed, unsheathing her claws. “We’re not afraid of you!”

  Lionpaw looked sideways at his denmate. Really? You’re not scared? He looked back at the ShadowClan cats, all of them so much bigger than he was, with long, curved claws and powerful shoulders. And a hunger in their eyes that yearned for more than fresh-kill.

  Sunfall lifted his head. “Leave now, and this matter will be forgotten.”

  “Or what?” Foxheart asked with a hint of a growl.

  “Or we’ll make you leave,” snarled Swiftbreeze, taking one step forward.

  Foxheart let out a hiss. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he murmured. His gaze fell on Lionpaw. “I’ll start with that trembling lump of fur over there. I’ll slice his ears so he can’t hear his own screams of pain, then shred his muzzle until he begs to be put out of his agony.”

  Sunfall let out a yowl and sprang toward the ShadowClan cat. Swiftbreeze leaped forward beside him, and Bluepaw crouched down with her claws out. Lionpaw’s vision blurred and the blood roared in his ears. He couldn’t fight these cats! StarClan, save me!

  He spun around on numb, shaking paws and scrabbled across the damp forest floor. All he could think of was getting far, far away from those terrible cats.

  Suddenly a log reared up in front of him and he crashed into the furrowed gray bark. Reeling back, he sat down hard, dazed and bruised. Where did he think he was running to? He couldn’t leave the territory: Where would he go? How would he survive? But he couldn’t go back to the camp. His Clanmates would know he had been too scared to fight ShadowClan warriors. He might not even be allowed to go back. Pinestar might send him away! Warriors were supposed to have courage in the face of the fiercest enemies, but Lionpaw had none. Icy drops of rain started to fall, bouncing on his fur and making him shiver. Looking around, he realized that he had run all the way to Snakerocks, the pile of rugged gray stones in the middle of the forest where adders lived. Only in hot weather, though—in leaf-bare, the snakes hid themselves away, leaving the rocks safe for hunting. And shelter. Lionpaw spotted a shadowed entrance at the foot of the stones and trotted over to it. The cave stretched farther back than he could see, and smelled of fox, but the scent was old and stale, and Lionpaw couldn’t hear anything moving about inside. He could stay here for a while, maybe catch something to eat, and figure out what he was going to do next. He squeezed through the gap and lay down on the bare earth, pressing his back against the rock. It was cold and uncomfortable compared with his mossy nest in the apprentices’ den, but he didn’t let himself think about that. He’d have to get used to finding other places to shelter, now that he couldn’t be a Clan cat.

  He didn’t mean to sleep, but when he looked out of the entrance again the forest was hidden in shadow, and a few stars twinkled in the branches. Lionpaw looked at his paws, feeling his fur burn with shame. Were his warrior ancestors gazing down at him with anger that he had run away from the battle? Or shame that he had failed his Clanmates and broken the warrior code? Or pity that he was such a pathetic, useless apprentice that he couldn’t stand his ground against a few trespassers?

  There was a rustle on the far side of the clearing. Lionpaw stiffened, bristling. Had the ShadowClan cats tracked him down to make good on their threats? Or was a hungry fox looking for a meal? Lionpaw started to back into the cave, one paw at a time.

  “Lionpaw, are you there?”

  “I definitely caught his scent back there, but it’s harder out in the open,” complained another voice.

  “Keep trying. Please, StarClan, don’t let him have left the territory.”

  Lionpaw blinked. Swiftbreeze and Bluepaw were looking for him! He shrank farther back beneath the rock. Were they going to punish him for running away? Then his lip curled in disgust.

  What are you doing, cowering from your own Clanmates? You may have been too much of a coward to face ShadowClan, but you can stand up and take your punishment!

  Trying not to whimper with shame, he crept out of the cave. Two shapes were just visible in the darkness.

  “Swiftbreeze! I’ve picked up his trail!” Bluepaw mewed excitedly.

  “I’m here,” Lionpaw croaked.

  There was the sound of paw steps; then Swiftbreeze and Bluepaw were curling around him, pressing their warm pelts against his flanks and purring louder than a horde of bees.

  “Oh, thank StarClan we found you!” Swiftbreeze murmured. “You silly mouse-brain, we’ve been worried!”

  “You missed a good old skirmish, too!” Bluepaw chirped. “Adderfang and Thistlepaw showed up just in time to give those ShadowClan warriors a bashing they won’t forget! I can’t believe they thought we’d let them hunt on our territory!”

  Lionpaw pulled himself away and hung his head. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he blurted out. “Have you come to punish me?”

  Swiftbreeze paused, and he could tell she was looking at him through the half-light. “Punish you?”

  “Yes, for being scared!”

  There was a rustle of movement, and Lionpaw felt his mentor lick his ear. “Oh, Lionpaw, every cat gets scared sometimes. Even the strongest warriors.”

  “Yeah, even I got a bit scared today!” Bluepaw added.

  Swiftbreeze’s breath was warm on Lionpaw’s ear. “You shouldn’t have run away. You should have trusted your Clanmates to protect you—do you really think I’d let any cat hur
t you? I’d be a pretty useless mentor if I sent my apprentice into battle before I’d taught him how to take care of himself!”

  “But what if I’m always too scared to fight?” Lionpaw asked in a small voice. “I can’t be a warrior like that.”

  Swiftbreeze purred. “If you don’t feel any fear, you will never be able to feel brave. Courage is nothing without the knowledge of what you face. Give me time to teach you how to fight and defend yourself, and use the size and weight of your enemy against him. Then you’ll find courage deep inside.”

  She moved away, and Lionpaw felt the air chill against his flank. “Now, come back to the camp,” she meowed more briskly. “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat all day. Pinestar wants to speak with you”—Lionpaw swallowed hard—“but he won’t punish you. You’ll be a great warrior one day, I promise.”

  She started to walk back across the clearing, and Lionpaw ran to catch up. His heart swelled with relief and love for his Clanmates. Maybe Swiftbreeze was right: Because he had known what it was like to be really, really scared, he would understand more about courage. And when he had an apprentice, he would teach them that it was okay to be frightened sometimes. In fact, it was a sign of the best warriors!

  Cedarheart Speaks: The Leader Who Sought Peace

  It began at a Gathering, not here on the island but in the hollow with the four Great Oak trees, back in the forest. The ThunderClan leader, Morningstar, stood on the Great Rock beneath the shadows of the oak trees and let his voice cut through the icy air. “If all five Clans are here, let the Gathering begin!”

  There were murmurs and shuffles from below as the cats found places to sit among their Clanmates, and scowled at other Clans who dared to push too close. Morningstar waited impatiently, feeling his paws freeze to the stone. Behind him, the other leaders shifted their haunches; the rock was painfully cold to sit on, but only one leader at a time stood to address the Clans.