Crowfeather's Trial

Chapter 31

Night had fallen by the time Crowfeather and Nightcloud reached the WindClan camp, carrying Breezepelt’s unconscious body between them. Crowfeather might almost have thought that his son was dead, except for the faint rise and fall of his chest and the blood that was still trickling from his belly wound and many others.

Kestrelflight had already made a nest for Breezepelt in the medicine-cat den, and prepared a thick wad of cobwebs to begin staunching the flow of blood. Crowfeather and Nightcloud hovered anxiously at the entrance to the den.

Several of the other WindClan warriors were resting close by; some of them licked their wounds, while others lay stretched out with their eyes closed. None of them looked as badly injured as Breezepelt.

As Kestrelflight began to lick the dirt from Breezepelt’s lacerated body, the unconscious cat let out a whine of pain. Crowfeather and Nightcloud exchanged an anxious glance, then crowded into the den to get closer to their son’s nest.

Kestrelflight looked up, a harassed expression in his eyes. “You’ll have to wait outside,” he mewed. “I can’t treat Breezepelt if I’m continually tripping over the two of you.”

Crowfeather began to retreat, but for a moment Nightcloud stood frozen, staring at her unconscious son. Crowfeather nudged her gently. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let Kestrelflight do his job.” After a heartbeat Nightcloud followed him out, though they both still watched from the entrance to the den.

Kestrelflight’s not usually so snappy, Crowfeather thought. That must mean he’s really worried about Breezepelt. He felt as if a heavy, rotting lump of crow-food had lodged in his belly. What if I’ve made peace with Breezepelt just in time to lose him?

Crowfeather remembered a time when Breezepelt was still in the nursery. There had been an outbreak of whitecough in the WindClan camp, and Breezekit’s had turned into the deadly greencough. Crowfeather had spent each night barely sleeping, wrapped around the tiny kit as though his love and attention could cure his son. When Breezekit woke up one morning with the cough almost gone, Crowfeather’s relief had been so intense that he couldn’t remember having felt anything like it since.

I shouldn’t have forgotten that, he thought. I was a good father to him once. I shouldn’t have doubted myself so much.

While Crowfeather and Nightcloud waited, Heathertail limped up to stand beside them. “How is Breezepelt?” she asked, fixing Crowfeather with a worried gaze.

Crowfeather simply shook his head, while Nightcloud replied, “Not good.”

Heathertail’s claws worked for a moment in the ground, her head and tail drooping. Crowfeather caught a questioning look from Nightcloud, and responded with a nod. Yes, this will be the mother of our son’s kits. Breezepelt was lucky, he reflected, to have such a strong warrior in his life, so loyal to him and to their Clan.

Nightcloud brushed her tail down Heathertail’s side. “Kestrelflight is doing everything he can,” she mewed. “Now it’s in the paws of StarClan.”

Heathertail nodded, then took a deep breath and stood quietly waiting beside her Clanmates.

Just as Crowfeather was beginning to feel that he couldn’t hold on to his patience for another heartbeat, Kestrelflight rose and came out of the den. “Breezepelt is seriously injured,” he began.

Tell us something we don’t know, Crowfeather thought irritably.

“But will he be all right?” Nightcloud asked.

After a long moment, Kestrelflight nodded. “Provided he gets plenty of rest, he should get better.”

Nightcloud let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank StarClan!”

“If you want,” the medicine cat continued, “one of you can spend the night with him so you’ll be there when he regains consciousness. That way I can see to treating the other injured cats.”

Crowfeather glanced at Nightcloud; he would be happy to stay with their son, but Breezepelt would probably rather see Nightcloud when he woke.

But before either of them could speak, Heathertail stepped forward eagerly. “I’ll stay.” Then she too glanced at Nightcloud, ducking her head in embarrassment. “If that’s okay with you, of course,” she added.

Crowfeather expected Nightcloud to object, knowing how possessive and protective of Breezepelt she had always been. At first she was clearly fighting with the urge to admonish Heathertail, her whiskers twitching irritably, but then she stepped back a pace with a glance at Crowfeather. He gave her a nod of approval, knowing how hard it would be for her to release her hold on Breezepelt.

Finally, Nightcloud let out a pleased purr and gestured with her tail for Heathertail to enter the den. While Heathertail padded inside, the black she-cat and Crowfeather waited for Kestrelflight to check their wounds and treat them with chervil to prevent infection.

“You should be fine,” the medicine cat meowed. “Go get some rest, and I’ll examine you again in the morning.”

Crowfeather was so exhausted that he didn’t put up any kind of fight. He went directly to the warriors’ den, and not even the pain of his injuries or his worry about Breezepelt could keep him awake. He fell asleep before his eyes even closed.

It felt as if only moments had passed before a paw prodded him on his shoulder, rousing him at last. He opened his eyes to see the sun rising above the moor and Nightcloud standing over him.

“What are you, a dormouse?” she asked. “Come see how Breezepelt is getting along.”

Crowfeather willingly followed her to the medicine-cat den, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in his belly when he wondered what he would find there. He felt shaky with relief when he heard Breezepelt’s mew as they approached the den, sounding strong and free from pain.

Stepping inside the den at Nightcloud’s side, Crowfeather saw that Kestrelflight wasn’t there. Breezepelt was sitting up in his nest, with Heathertail crouched beside him. The two young cats were gazing into each other’s eyes; Crowfeather could sense the love between them.

He cleared his throat, and at the sound Breezepelt’s head swiveled toward the entrance, while Heathertail eased back a little so she wasn’t so close to him.

“Greetings,” Nightcloud meowed. “How are you feeling, Breezepelt?”

“Like every stoat on the territory has taken a bite out of me,” Breezepelt replied wryly. “But I’m going to be fine.”

“A group of WindClan and ThunderClan cats are going to go through the tunnels and make sure the stoats are really gone,” Nightcloud went on. “If you want to go, Heathertail, I’ll stay with Breezepelt.”

“Oh, I’m happy to stay if Harespring wants you to go,” Heathertail responded eagerly.

I’m sure you are, Crowfeather thought, exchanging an amused glance with Nightcloud. The two young cats were gazing into each other’s eyes again, and Nightcloud leaned over to murmur into Crowfeather’s ear.

“I think the Clan will be welcoming new kits before long.”

The next morning, Crowfeather padded through the dim tunnels, part of a patrol that included Nightcloud, Lionblaze, and Cloudtail, with Harespring in the lead. His nose wrinkled at the smell of stoat.

I’m going to vomit if I can’t get away from that stink, he thought. It’s sinking into my fur… I’ll be tasting it for moons! If I never see another stoat, it will be too soon.

The patrols found plenty of evidence that the stoats had been there: holes filled with rotting prey and dens where nests had been scratched together from scraps of grass and bracken. But there was no sign that any of the stoats had returned.

All the while he was patrolling, Crowfeather was acutely conscious that Lionblaze was part of the group. He kept an eye on him, and started forward a couple of times before he eventually braced himself and managed to maneuver to walk beside him.

“There’s something I want to say to you,” he told the ThunderClan cat.

Lionblaze tilted his head to one side, giving Crowfeather a slightly suspicious look. His golden fur was torn to reveal scratches underneath, and he was limping slightly on one forepaw, but he was still the magnificent ThunderClan warrior who Crowfeather could hardly believe was his son.

“Okay,” Lionblaze mewed at last. He slowed his pace so that he and Crowfeather gradually dropped behind the rest of the patrol. “How is Breezepelt?” he asked hesitantly.

“He’ll be fine,” Crowfeather replied. When Lionblaze acknowledged his news with a nod, he continued awkwardly, the words he had been waiting to say bursting out of him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t accept you and your littermates when I found out about you. I’m sorry that I said I had only one kit, and that anything else was a lie. If I’d known…” He stumbled over his words and had to begin again, while Lionblaze listened, expressionless. “If I’d only known when you were kits, when you needed me, surely things would have been different. I have no excuses, but… I hope you can forgive me for the way I acted.”

Lionblaze paused for a moment before replying, his amber eyes gleaming with disbelief in the dim light of the tunnel, as if he was questioning why Crowfeather was even bothering to talk to him. “It doesn’t matter,” he responded at last. “I was a full-grown warrior by the time I found out that you and Leafpool were my parents. I don’t need to be your kit. Bramblestar was the only father we knew, and he was a great one. He’ll always be my father, no matter what.”

Crowfeather nodded, feeling the pain of rejection. He was glad that he had spoken, but he accepted that he could not control how his son responded. I guess Lionblaze and Jayfeather will always resent me.

“I’m not angry with you,” Lionblaze added. “I accept your apology, and I’m grateful for the way it all turned out.”

A little reassured, Crowfeather dipped his head again in acceptance. He began reaching out his tail to touch Lionblaze on the shoulder, then hastily drew it back again as he realized that would never be their relationship. This cordial agreement, with the air cleared between them, was the best he could hope for. And I have to learn to be okay with that.

Part of Crowfeather was sad at the thought of what might have been, but mostly he was filled with relief that he and Lionblaze had reached an understanding. It felt like a cool shower of rain in a dry season.

For a brief moment, Crowfeather wondered what his life would have been like if he and Leafpool had never returned to their Clans. They would have found a place to live happily, with Lionblaze and Jayfeather and Hollyleaf, and maybe many other kits. But then Crowfeather pushed the vision away. All three of their kits would have been different if he and Leafpool had raised them together, and he guessed that in the end Leafpool’s love of her Clan would have drawn her back to her calling as a medicine cat. The knowledge hurt, but everything had happened as it was meant to. And Crowfeather felt humbled that Lionblaze had forgiven him.

Crowfeather and Lionblaze caught up to the rest of the patrol as they emerged from the tunnels, blinking in the sunlight that seemed dazzling after so long in the dark. Harespring, who had been leading the patrol, bounded up to Onestar.

“The tunnels are clear of stoats,” he reported.

“And it’s time we were leaving,” Squirrelflight added, gathering the ThunderClan cats together with a wave of her bushy tail. “Let us know if you have any more trouble.”

“I’m sure we won’t,” Onestar meowed, with a respectful dip of his head. “The stoats are gone, and we couldn’t have achieved that without your help. Please take the thanks of WindClan to Bramblestar.”

Squirrelflight nodded, equally respectful. “I will. And may StarClan light your path.”

“And yours,” Onestar responded.

Crowfeather watched as Squirrelflight led the ThunderClan cats away toward the border. Warm satisfaction filled him at the thought that their two Clans had worked together, along with hope that they could rely on each other in the future. As they went, he caught Nightcloud’s eye and saw that she was looking calm and approving.

In the past she had always been angry and contemptuous of ThunderClan, never losing a chance to quarrel with them or accuse them of overstepping. For the first time, Crowfeather realized that so much of that had been because of him.

It must have been hard for her, he thought as he and the rest of the WindClan cats headed for their camp, knowing that for so long my heart lay across that border. Maybe now she won’t be so angry. And maybe in future the Clans can finally learn to get along in peace.