They had left the camp at dawn to travel to the meeting hollow. Emberstar had brought his personal guard and the party had numbered six in total. Brambletooth felt honoured to come along. He was the youngest of the group, having risen to the rank of warrior five moons ago. With the position came the eagerness to prove his worth. The trees thinned out as they reached the edge of the forest and their shelter of hedges, redwoods and conifers gave way to open ground. Above, Yonder's sky blazed above them with the heat of mid-day.
Brambletooth paused in his step to stretch his tense legs, the muscles underneath his grey and black tabby pelt rippling. He had been roused in the early mornings by Willowfoot, the King's brother and deputy. His abrupt awakening had made his head dizzy and he asked why they were getting up so early. Wilowfoot's response was to cuff him between the ears with a paw swipe. The grey tom had been careful to keep his claws sheathed but the blunt force had gotten him alert. Sheepishly, he had apologised and made his way to join the party after remembering that deputy had assigned him to the morning patrol. The deputy said nothing more, though he heard Willowfoot muttering about 'up jumped Tafurs and their hellspawn.'
Brambletooth flattened his ears and he bit back the urge to give the deputy a hiss. Willowfoot's insult was in reference to his heritage for Brambletooth was not from a warrior's blood line.
In Yonder, the 5 great clans ruled over vast swathes of territory that were rich and bountiful. Hundreds to thousands of cats dwelled and lived in these lands. Yet not all cats were born equal for the founding leaders had decreed that not all were worthy of bearing a warrior name.
When the clans established themselves, they decreed that any rogues or loners who joined them were free to hunt and live on their territories. The clan cats were low in number and their new territories were too large for such a small group to patrol. In exchange for the land, the non-clan cats would fight on behalf of their new overlords, called to arms whenever their clan went to war. Thus a new rank was born, to symbolise the disparity between those that were clan-borne and those that were not.
Tafur, meaning beggar or Vagrant in the ancient language of the Northling cats, the original inhabitants of Yonder.
It was his grandfather Brom, who had propelled their family from Tafurs to Warrior. His grandfather had saved the life of King Blazingstar, Emberstar's late father during a battle during the year of the long winter. To thank him for his deeds, Brom had been allowed to become a warrior and was given the name of Breakwater, a name they had taken from the Breakwater rush that cut through the Splintered forest.
"We are getting close. Keep up." Emberstar called out from the front before breaking into a run. The King bounded across the moor and the patrol followed closely behind, their paw steps kicking up stray pieces of grass. They moved up the hill and Brambletooth spotted a pair of rabbits nibbling on a lonely hedge. He would have opted to hunt but the King was in a rush. He made a prayer to Starclan, hoping that the rabbits would still be around when they made the journey back. The prey spotted them and bolted towards a hole in the ground. A hiss escaped his mouth as he watched them run away.
The hill they crossed was smaller than the rest and King Emberstar had halted at the top, where the grass had flattened. The guard moved to stop beside their king and before them, a sea of green stretched across the horizon. Open plains stood before them, the green patch only broken by a few odd hills and dead trees. On the far side, he could see the Mountains of the Highlands, their peaks covered in frost and reaching to the sky while their bases were shrouded in both mist and fog. The lands there were cold and only the Northern cats lived there. The sunlight made River Ram glint like jewels from far away. Ice at the tip of Badger's Claw, the largest mountain in Yonder fed the many streams and rivers that made up Streamclan's domain.
A few paces away from the downslope, there was a dip in the ground. They were close to the Meeting Hollow.
It was an ancient monument, having been built a few generations after the Southron cats had arrived in the lands of Yonder. After establishing the Kingdom of Streamclan, the third King had ordered the creation of the hollow. The ground had been dug up with the paws of his warriors until a near perfect half dome was formed. It had been smoothed and flattened and stones, rocks and pebbles had been pressed into the soft dirt to strengthen the earth. At the centre of the hollow was a large, flat stone slab, to allow for the speaker's voice to ring high above his subjects. The kings of old Streamclan used it to host their officers and warriors whenever they gathered but it had long been abandoned . A new meeting ground closer to the main encampment had been made and the old hollow lost its purpose.
Brambletooth wondered why the King had even brought them here, but he barely had a minute to process his thoughts when Emberstar broke into a run once more. He gave barely a command and only the slightest flick of his striped tail showed that he wanted for them to follow him. They ran for several paces more before they finally reached their destination.
By the time they were done, the patrol was panting. Only Emberstar looked to be fine. His head was held high and his fur laid flat. The Lord of the Rivers turned to look at his guard, his whiskers twitching in amusement. "You youngsters can barely keep up. How can you afford to protect your king?" He huffed. Brambletooth's ears flattened in embarrassment. Was the king to scold them?
Willowfoot burst out laughing. Rainclaw, a pale grey tom ducked his head in embarrassment. It was then that he saw a twinkle in the King's yellow eyes. Emberstar chuckled before gesturing with his tail for the guard to rest and Brambletooth gratefully flopped onto the soft earth.
They laid there for a while, enjoying the comfort of the sun as they basked on the rocks. Finally, the king shifted from his lying position and sat with his tail neatly wrapped around his paws.
Adderbite, one of Emberstar's most senior warriors, was the first to speak. His fur was a bright ginger and his fangs were longer and sharper than any others. "My King, you would not bring us to this empty place without reason. What do you wish to tell us?"
The dark brown tabby gave a short sigh before smiling somberly. "As expected from you Adderbite. Nothing can escape your sharp mind." He turned to look at his guards and Brambletooth sat up straighter as he felt the King's gaze pass by him. He could feel those bright yellow eyes, a trait that the Kings of Streamclan bore pierce through him.
"I'm sure that the rest of the clan will know soon enough but I will tell you first. Not because you are my royal guard but because most of you are the future leaders of your own families. You are my protectors and I trust each of you with my life." Brambletooth's heart warmed at the words and he dipped his head gratefully.
"I am dying, my lords."
"What?" Brambletooth blurted out. He was not the only one. Redwind, a russet coloured tom echoed his words. Even Willowfoot, the King's own brother, looked surprised. He guessed that Emberstar had kept the news hidden from his own family.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Willowfoot demanded, his back-fur bristling. "Do you not trust me brother?"
Emberstar shook his head sadly. "It is not that I do not trust you Willowfoot. It is because I did not believe it myself." He shifted, looking down at his paws.
"I have lived for many a moon, yet I confess I am afraid. Tigerpaw is a good kit. He knows his numbers well and he listens during his lessons. In a few years he would make a worthy King, but I do not have a few years left." Emberstar got up, pacing slowly around the central rock. Every so often his ears would twitch and his tail lashed.
"Reedflower tells me that I will not live to see my next leafbare and though I love my son, he is not ready to rule. I hope that the younger cats -" He paused to give Brambletooth, Redwind and Rainclaw a look. "- will take care of him. Guide him, teach him the ways of battle. Make sure he lives a long life."
Brambletooth was the first to speak. He dipped his head close to the earth and lowered his front paws. "My King! I will keep the young prince safe." Redwind and Rainclaw copied his stance, their chest fur touching the dirt as they swore to the king. Emberstar smiled, his face looking brighter than before with their pledges of loyalty. He bid for them to rise with a satisfied nod. "I am pleased to see that such loyal cats guard my family. You do your fathers proud, but I have another task I need you to complete."
The King leaped onto the high rock and turned to face the sky, his whiskers blowing against the soft breeze that entered the hollow. "Brambletooth." He called his name and the grey tabby snapped to attention, sitting straighter. Does the king have a task for me? He wondered. He vowed not to fail him.
Emberstar did not turn to look at him, his gaze focused to the endless blue above him. "Silverblaze. You were familiar with him?" He asked. Brambletooth nodded and opened his mouth to reply. "Yes. I knew him well enough."
Silverblaze was Emberstar's first son. A silver tabby tom who took after his mother, Rippeflower. He was a fine cat by all accounts and was being groomed by Emberstar to be a worthy successor. Silverblaze was brave and strong and had led cats into battles before. When Brambletooth was just an apprentice, he had fought beside the crown prince in a skirmish against a group of loners. Following the battle, the prince had invited Brambletooth to sup with him at the victory feast. He had been honoured by the offer and happily went.
Two moons after that battle, the heir apparent had disappeared. There had been no word, no warnings. One morning, Silverblaze was leading a hunting party. The next, he had left the main camp, never to be seen again. Word had spread and the entire Kingdom, from the lowliest tafur to the greatest lords was gossiping. Some speculated that the prince had died from a fever and the royal family sought to cover it up. Others sung a more romantic tale, of how he had fallen in love with a lowly tafur she and when his family denied him the right to take her as his mate, he had abandoned his kingdom.
The darkest theory was that the heir sought to take the throne from his father and when the king found out, he had the prince banished. For a moon, many had talked. Lies, and gossip spread across the Kingdom like weeds in a dead field. Emberstar had put a stop to it.
"The next cat who dares to speak ill of my son will have their tongue ripped out. Tell this to all in the Kingdom." A royal decree had left the capital and talks of Silverblaze died a few days later.
"Good." The King nodded. "You will find him."
Brambletooth's eyes widened in confusion and he tilted his head. "Sire?" He asked, unsure of what he had just heard. The King turned around to look down at him.
"With all due respect brother, but why bring Silverblaze back. He could be dead for all we know, or a thousand sky lengths from here. It will be impossible to find him." Willowfoot spoke. The grey tom moved close, barely a mouse length from the rock in which the King stood. The deputy looked to the ground and studied his paws before turning to meet his brother's eyes. "If it would please you, I am happy to serve as Tigerpaw's regent until he comes of age. I assure you our clan will be in good pa- "
The King did not let him finish, opening his mouth to cut Willowfoot off. "No. There will be no need. Brambletooth." He called his name again. Brambletooth stood at attention. "Your orders are to find my son and bring him back to his homeland. Pick your cats from the main camp, call on those from the other officers if you wish. I give you a moon to prepare."
Brambletooth blinked again, looking down at his paws. This was a large responsibility and it would be his first command. He was the youngest of the guard and compared to the other heirs, Clan Breakwater ranked lower than them. Should he complete his task, he would be known as the cat that brought home a prince. And should you fail, you will be mocked as the one who lost a king. A voice in the back of his head taunted him.
It was not only the threat of failure that made him hesitant. The thought of being so far from home daunted him and he wondered if he would ever come back to see the River Kingdom again. He looked up to face his leader, dipping his head. "I am honoured that you would choose me but… I would not know where to start. As Willowfoot said, Silverblaze could be dead or in a foreign land."
"Aye. Yet I know that he is not. My son still lives." Emberstar smiled as he leapt down the rock. The guard parted to give him room. "I dream of him. Sometimes, I see him in the cold, and sometimes I see him huddled in warmth. I can feel his joy, his rage and his sadness. My son is alive and I ask that you bring him home for me. Go to Blackfish's Island. He and Silverblaze were close friends when he was fostered there in his youth. I'm sure he will have some clue on where he has gone."
Brambletooth stayed silent for a moment, considering the mission. I might never see home again. I might die in some foreign gutter and never be able to join my ancestors among the stars. Yet my name might rise high should I find the prince. He turned to look at Emberstar, blue eyes meeting bright yellow.
"I will find Silverblaze. I will bring him home." He vowed.