Path Оf А Warrior

Chapter Four

“Redpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your own life?” Sunstar’s eyes, warm and steady, gazed into Redpaw’s.

“I do,” Redpaw promised. He realized that he was trembling. Willowpaw—no, Willowpelt, since a few heartbeats ago—stood shoulder to shoulder with him, a steady support.

“Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Redpaw, from now on you will be known as Redtail. StarClan honors your bravery and your loyalty. We welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

With a purr, Sunstar rested his muzzle briefly on Redtail’s head. “Serve your Clan well,” he mewed. “You’ll be a fine warrior.”

Joy ran through Redtail as he bent his head and licked his leader’s shoulder. A fine warrior. Six moons ago, back when he was that scared ’paw who’d been responsible for losing the battle with RiverClan, he’d hardly dared to imagine he might someday hear those words.

The cats around them cried out, “Willowpelt! Redtail! Willowpelt! Redtail!” As their Clanmates chanted their new names, Redtail could hear their father Adderfang’s voice rising, loudest of all.

As Redtail broke away from Sunstar, he saw Sparrowpelt, usually so stern, looking at him proudly. Beside him, White-eye purred. Their kits, Runningkit and Mousekit, tumbled around her paws.

Near them, Spottedpaw was quivering with excitement. She wouldn’t get her own name for a while—she had a lot to learn before she would be ready to become a full medicine cat—but she seemed as proud and happy for her littermates as if everyone were calling her new name, too.

At the back of the crowd of cats, Redtail caught sight of Tigerclaw. The big cat wasn’t cheering or purring like the rest, just watching, his expression unreadable.

Does he think I’m not ready to be a warrior? Redtail thought anxiously. He hadn’t forgotten how Tigerclaw had saved him from the hawk moons before, or that he himself had ruined the battle with RiverClan.

No cat in ThunderClan had seemed to hold it against him: Sunstar hadn’t even scolded him, just praised Tigerclaw for driving off the hawk. But Redtail blamed himself, and he knew that Tigerclaw remembered, too.

“I can’t believe we’re finally warriors!” Willowpelt said excitedly. “I’ve been waiting for this moment forever!” Beside her, their mother, Swiftbreeze, nuzzled her cheek.

“My kits are so grown-up,” she mewed.

Redtail pulled his gaze away from Tigerclaw’s and looked at his sister affectionately. “Yeah. You’re going to be a terrific warrior,” he said, and Swiftbreeze purred in agreement.

Willowpelt puffed out her chest a little, her head high. “Do you think so? I know you will, too,” she added.

I hope so. Redtail’s eyes caught Tigerclaw’s again. After Redtail had made that terrible mistake back in leaf-fall, he had tried hard to make up for it. He’d worked through leaf-bare without a word of complaint, bringing back prey even when the snows had reached above shoulder height and the forest seemed empty of life.

It had been a long, hard leaf-bare. Bluefur and Thrushpelt’s young kits had been killed by a fox, to the whole Clan’s horror, and Tawnyspots, the faithful and well-liked deputy, had died a slow, painful death from the illness he had suffered for so long. Bluefur was deputy now, more solemn and efficient than ever. Since she’d lost her kits, she seemed to think of nothing but the good of ThunderClan.

Now that newleaf was finally arriving, pale sunshine lingered longer every day, and tiny plants sprouted in the damp soil of the forest. It had been a long time since Redtail had cost the Clan that battle. Surely Tigerclaw didn’t think of him as that timid ’paw anymore?

Determined to find out what was behind the other warrior’s thoughtful gaze, Redtail stiffened his shoulders and headed toward him. I’m one of the best hunters in ThunderClan already, he thought. If Tigerclaw challenged him, he would tell that to the older warrior. Every cat makes mistakes sometime. I can’t feel bad about it forever.

When he reached Tigerclaw, he wasn’t sure what to say. I’m not an apprentice anymore seemed too obvious.

“Redtail,” Tigerclaw purred in greeting, “I was going to go hunting. I could use a strong warrior to go with me. Can you think of one?”

Does he mean … ? A jolt of happiness shot through Redtail. He’d been worrying for nothing. Tigerclaw had called him a strong warrior. “I’d love to!” he meowed cheerfully.

He glanced quickly back at Sparrowpelt, who was purring with laughter as he tumbled Runningkit over with one paw. Then he realized: He didn’t have to ask his mentor for permission to leave camp anymore. He didn’t have to ask any cat. He was a warrior. Holding his head high, he followed Tigerclaw through the gorse tunnel out of camp.

They headed toward the border with Fourtrees, passing the sandy hollow where Redtail had spent so much time learning battle moves from Sparrowpelt and practicing with the other apprentices. Already that seemed like a long time ago.

As they walked beneath the trees, Redtail scented the air, his ears pricked for any sounds. The newleaf forest was rich with the scents of prey and of moist soil and fresh growing plants, so different from the cold, lifeless scents of leaf-bare.

A faint rustling came from the bracken beneath an alder tree, and Redtail tensed, dropping into a hunting crouch.

He scented the air, his mouth watering. A vole. He could hear the little distinct rustles of it moving through the bracken. He crept closer, moving silently, his tail held low and stiff. He could feel Tigerclaw watching him.

The soft sounds of movement in the bracken ceased as the little animal froze: The vole must have sensed them at last. But Redtail could still hear the pounding of its tiny heart, knew exactly where it was hiding. Breaking into a run, he crashed through the bracken and pounced before the prey could try to escape. He bit down on the back of the vole’s neck, and the warm body stilled beneath his paws.

“Nicely done,” Tigerclaw meowed approvingly as Redtail backed out of the bracken, the vole dangling from his jaws.

“Thanks,” Redtail replied, pleased at Tigerclaw’s praise. He dropped the vole beneath a bush and scraped earth over it to conceal it until he could pick it up on their way back to camp.

Near the Fourtrees border, Redtail heard the quick thumping leaps of a running rabbit. Both cats stopped, their ears pricked.

“It’s coming this way,” Tigerclaw observed, and Redtail nodded. His pelt prickled with excitement at the thought of a juicy rabbit, big enough to feed three or four of his Clanmates. The rabbit was running fast and straight, and it was easy to guess where it would cross onto ThunderClan territory. Without needing to speak, they positioned themselves, one to each side of where the rabbit was heading.

The heavy loping bounds were coming closer and closer. It sounded like a big one. His mouth watering, Redtail tensed, ready to spring.

In a blur of brown fur, the rabbit shot out of the undergrowth, running full tilt, closer to Tigerclaw than to Redtail. Redtail let himself relax a bit, knowing the bigger warrior could take it down alone.

Just as Tigerclaw leaped, another blur of fur—a cat—burst out of the undergrowth and leaped, too. Redtail watched in horror as Tigerclaw and the smaller cat collided in midair and fell to the ground with a heavy thud, tangled together and spitting with rage and shock. The rabbit dodged away into the undergrowth and was lost before Redtail even thought of pouncing.

“Get off me!” Tigerclaw snarled, and the other cat sprang to her paws, looking indignant.

“That was my rabbit!” she yowled. “You made me lose my rabbit!” She was barely as big as a rabbit herself, Redtail saw, and clearly an apprentice. Despite her size, she glared at Tigerclaw fiercely, her brown-and-gray fur bristling with fury.

“Our rabbit,” Tigerclaw corrected, sliding out his claws. “I’d like to know what you think you’re doing, hunting ThunderClan prey on ThunderClan territory.”

“It is not!” the apprentice hissed scornfully. “Is it, Stagleap?” She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide with confusion. “Stagleap … ?” For the first time, she seemed to realize that she was alone. But a moment later, she’d puffed up her fur and was glaring at them both again. Despite himself, Redtail felt a rising admiration for her bravery.

“You’re a WindClan apprentice, aren’t you?” Redtail asked, recognizing her from the last full-moon meeting. “Sorrelpaw, right? What are you doing here?”

“I’m hunting,” she told him, her tail curling behind her. “And no matter what you two say, WindClan cats have just as much right to hunt at Fourtrees as you do. ThunderClan doesn’t own everything.” She sniffed. “No wonder you’re always fighting with RiverClan over those Sunningrocks. What a bunch of bullies.”

The fur rose on Tigerclaw’s shoulders. “The border between Fourtrees and ThunderClan territory is five tail-lengths behind you. Don’t WindClan mentors teach their apprentices how to recognize borders?”

For the first time, Sorrelpaw looked shaken. She looked back toward Fourtrees, her tail waving uncertainly. “Um—”

Tigerclaw went on. “Clearly, WindClan doesn’t teach apprentices to respect their elders, either. We should fix that.” His cold amber gaze swung to Redtail. “Show Sorrelpaw what happens to cats who insult ThunderClan.”

“What?” Redtail blinked. “She’s just an apprentice, Tigerclaw. Her mentor isn’t even with her.”

Tigerclaw stalked closer to him, dropping his voice to a murmur. “If she wasn’t trying to start trouble, she would have stayed on her own territory.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Redtail mewed, backing away. Clearly, Tigerclaw didn’t care that Sorrelpaw was only an apprentice. “We’re still in conflict with RiverClan over Sunningrocks; do you really want to start trouble with WindClan, too?”

“I am a warrior.” Tigerclaw hissed. “I’m not going to let any cat disrespect my Clan or our borders. What about you, Redtail? I thought you’d grown to be a brave ThunderClan warrior.” He looked slyly at Redtail out of the corner of his eye. “Are you still a mouse-hearted ’paw?”

“No!” Redtail’s back stiffened. He knew Tigerclaw was talking about how he’d frozen at the bridge all those moons ago. Tigerclaw had saved him then; maybe the older warrior really did know best. He owed Tigerclaw his life. He would follow his lead. Swallowing hard, he turned to look at Sorrelpaw.

The apprentice looked smaller than ever to him. I won’t hurt her too badly.

Maybe she would be able to sense his intentions and wouldn’t be too scared.

He approached slowly, growling and baring his teeth. He half hoped Sorrelpaw would seize the chance to turn tail and run, but instead the little apprentice arched her back and hissed at him, sliding out her claws.

Redtail glanced back at Tigerclaw, who was watching him with narrowed eyes, and sprang. Easily tumbling Sorrelpaw over, he slammed her against the ground. The apprentice gasped, the breath knocked out of her, but a moment later she was fighting hard. Her claws raked across Redtail’s belly, stinging sharply. Hot with rage at the pain, he pinned her, holding her down, and sank his teeth into her shoulder.

Warm blood burst in his mouth, and Sorrelpaw shrieked in agony.

“Tear her apart, Redtail,” Tigerclaw hissed. There was something nastily pleased about his voice.

Shocked, Redtail released Sorrelpaw and staggered backward. Tear her apart? He felt suddenly queasy, his mouth full of the taste of blood.

“Hey!” The voice came from the border. Redtail looked up. A stocky brown tom—much larger than most of underfed, fast-running WindClan—was pushing his broad shoulders through the undergrowth, staring at the scene before him with round, shocked amber eyes. “Get away from her!”

“Stagleap, I—I—” Redtail stammered, imagining how the scene must look through the other cat’s eyes. The apprentice, trembling, her fur wet with blood. Redtail and Tigerclaw looming over her ominously, so much larger and older. Full-grown warriors attacking a lone apprentice. He felt hot with shame.

The WindClan tom ran to his apprentice’s side and gently nosed her wounds. “Sorrelpaw, can you get up?” He helped the wincing apprentice to her paws and let her lean against his side, then turned to the ThunderClan warriors, his expression turning from concern to anger. “Which of you did this?”

Redtail swallowed hard and stared at the ground. What have I done?

“Does it matter?” Tigerclaw hissed, puffing out his chest. “The real question is, why did you let her go racing onto ThunderClan land after our prey? Is WindClan so pathetic they can’t catch rabbits on their own territory?”

“Pathetic?” Stagleap echoed, bristling. “The two of you beating up an apprentice—that’s pathetic.” Nudging Sorrelpaw gently to stand on her own, he paced toward Tigerclaw, stopping less than a whisker’s length from the other cat. “Why don’t you pick on a cat your own size?” he growled.

Tigerclaw looked almost pleased, his tail curling above his back as he unsheathed his claws.

“It was me,” Redtail broke in hurriedly, before they could start fighting. He couldn’t let Tigerclaw take all the blame. “I attacked Sorrelpaw because she was hunting on our territory.” He hung his head. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. And I’m sorry we didn’t wait for you before—”

“We’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Tigerclaw interrupted, his eyes cold. “The apprentice trespassed on our territory and needed to be taught a lesson.”

The end of Stagleap’s tail twitched and he hunkered down, ready to spring. “I think maybe it’s you two who need to be taught a lesson,” he muttered. He moved forward until they were nearly nose to nose. The two toms looked evenly matched, Redtail saw, both huge and muscular. But Stagleap was older and an experienced warrior; he might be more than a match for Tigerclaw.

“Go ahead and try,” Tigerclaw taunted. He looked excited, almost eager.

I’ll have to fight, too, Redtail realized, his stomach sinking. I can’t abandon Tigerclaw. But Stagleap is so huge!

The big toms glared at each other for a long moment, muscles tensed and teeth bared. Then, just behind Stagleap, Sorrelpaw wobbled on her paws, giving a small whimper. Fresh blood from her wound was running down her side, Redtail noticed with a pang of guilt.

Stagleap broke eye contact with Tigerclaw to look down at his apprentice, his glare softening. “You’ll be okay, Sorrelpaw,” he told her. Shifting his eyes back to Tigerclaw and Redtail, he said, “I’d love to tear your fur off, but it’ll have to wait for another day. I’m taking Sorrelpaw back to WindClan.”

Tigerclaw hissed, but Redtail said quickly, “Okay, of course.”

Stagleap looked sternly at him. “I’m sure Sunstar doesn’t know anything about this,” he meowed. “He’s an honorable leader. Out of respect for him, I’m going to report this so Heatherstar can give him a chance to make it right. But if Sunstar doesn’t get his warriors under control, you can be sure that WindClan will be back to settle this.”

“Spitting threats while you run away does sound like WindClan,” Tigerclaw retorted smoothly. “But if you do come back, I’ll be waiting.”

“Me too,” Redtail added, and winced at his own words. I have to support Tigerclaw, don’t I?

With a sigh, Stagleap turned his back on them and coaxed Sorrelpaw into motion, heading back toward Fourtrees. The little apprentice was limping and leaning heavily against Stagleap, clearly in pain.

“You did well, Redtail,” Tigerclaw murmured as they watched them go. “We can’t let WindClan cats think they can get away with crossing our borders.”

I suppose that’s true, Redtail thought. But his mouth felt dry and sour, and the shallow scratches on his belly stung. There was a guilty, queasy feeling in his stomach. If I did the right thing, why do I feel so wrong?