Chapter Twelve
There's a Traitor in Our Midst
By the time Featherpelt and the battle patrol of Riverclan cats made it to the Thunderclan camp, the battle was getting worse. It seemed there were more Windclan and Shadowclan cats who had joined the fight. Featherpelt's former clanmates looked worn out as they struggled to defend their home against the forest.
"Riverclan, attack!" ordered Skystar. Her patrol of warriors launched themselves into the fray. Some of the Windclan and Shadowclan cats looked surprised as Riverclan warriors aided their Thunderclan counterparts. Featherpelt herself rejoined the fight. To her right, she heard a hiss and spotted her former apprentice Grayheart, whose belly was swollen with kits, trying without success to defend the nursery against a wiry, ginger tom who, from where Featherpelt was standing, reeked of rabbit dung. The loner rushed over to help Grayheart.
"Give up, queen," the ginger tom said, trying to push past her. He did not seem aware that Featherpelt was running towards him. "You're in no shape to fight me."
"Then, fight me!" Featherpelt exclaimed, barreling into the tom's side. The ginger tom keeled over in the dirt. Featherpelt took silent pleasure in the tom's puzzled expression as he looked around to see who had knocked him over. When he stood back up, his eyes landed on Featherpelt and started to laugh.
Grayheart, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to back further into the nursery until she was completely hidden. Though Featherpelt could not see them, she could hear the frightened mewls of kits, which the queen kept whispering, "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."
"This battle isn't yours to fight, loner," the ginger tom said matter of factively, shaking the dirt from his pelt. Featherpelt flinched against the title. She HATED being called a loner. The tom noticed her reaction to the word and continued speaking. "Besides, you don't stand a chance against an experienced warrior." White hot fury burned through her veins. Featherpelt was so tired of everyone pointing out she was a loner today and treating her like a defenseless kit. She had once been a respected deputy of this forest, after all! Nobody, especially some lanky, foul smelling, crowfood eating, piece of foxdung of a Windclan cat, gets away with calling her a loner.
Featherpelt threw herself at the tom and cuffed him as hard as she could on the ear. The tom roared with pain and retaliated with a swift kick to her side. The loner fell over in agony as the breath whooshed out of her lungs. She laid on the ground, gasping for air.
The ginger tom sneered at her and stood over her. He opened his mouth to say something, but that was when Featherpelt regained her breath. She rolled over and, despite the protests of her agonizing side, flung the tom off her, using her back legs. The move may not have worked on Falconstar, but it worked on her opponent. The ginger tom landed on the ground a few tail-lengths from her with a loud grunt. He slowly got up and glared at her with a "This isn't over" expression before fleeing the camp.
Soon, the battle was over. The Windclan and Shadowclan cats all retreated back to their clans - all except their leaders. "Where is Falconstar?" the Windclan leader Briarstar implored to Riverbreeze. "I need to speak to him."
Riverbreeze, who was missing several patches of fur from his blue-gray pelt, glared wearily at Briarstar. "You just fought a battle and now want to speak to my leader? Be gone with you, you piece of foxdung."
"You can't talk to a leader that way!" chided the Shadowclan leader Mothstar, who was standing next to Briarstar. "Especially when you're just a warrior."
"My warriors can speak however they like to crowfood eating foxhearts such as yourselves," Hawkclaw retorted, limping up to the two leaders, though his voice didn't sound like it was into the retort. The Thunderclan deputy looked as if he was about to drop dead any minute. His eyes were glazed as if he was in pain, though the expression on his face was as fierce as ever. He obviously was trying not to show how miserable he actually felt. His whole body was racked with claw marks and bald spots. He even had a paw twisted in an odd angle.
"Your warriors?" Mothstar challenged, the light gray hairs of his pelt bristling. "You're not their leader. Where is Falconstar? We need to talk to him about the issues of over territories."
"Falconstar is dead," Hawkclaw answered, his voice breaking. Thunderclan cats who were listening in gasped at the news and whispered about this revelation. "So that makes me their leader."
"Falconstar is dead?" Briarstar echoed, incredulous.
"When did he die?" inquired Mothstar.
Rage shined in Hawkclaw's eyes as if Mothstar had just insulted him. "It doesn't matter when! Just tell me what you wanted to tell him then leave."
"It's the subject of territories. We-"
"Territories? You want to talk about territories?! I thought that's what this whole war was about! I'm not discussing territories with you. You may leave."
Briarstar quickly jumped between the two leaders, who looked as if they might kill each other. "Hold on for a heartbeat. It's not what you think," Briarstar quickly explained. "You see, seven moons ago, we discovered some prey had been stolen on some of our territories. It's one thing when the perpetrator eats the prey and disposes of the remnants properly, but it's an entirely another when they only take a bite of the fresh-kill, then, let it rot. It's a waste of perfectly good prey and very disrespectful."
Featherpelt gasped. That sounds like the thrush I found that day I got exiled. But that had Shadowclan scent mixed with – As Featherpelt reveled in the memory, she stopped in mid thought. Her heart went dead. No wonder the scent had been familiar. It had been Cloudflight's scent! But, as the silver she-cat thought of it, she couldn't put her claw on why her best friend would want to do such thing. Featherpelt glanced around the clearing, looking for the albino she-cat. She hadn't seen her during the fight. Her body filled with the dread. I hope I am wrong. Featherpelt thought, scanning the clearing more thoroughly. Suddenly, a fluffy white she-cat pranced into camp. She looked surprised and oddly disappointed as she surveyed her surroundings, but quickly changed her expression from disappointment to a "Oh my Starclan! What happened here?" face.
Not for the first time at that moment did Featherpelt wish her suspicions about Cloudflight were wrong. She pricked her ears forward to eavesdrop once more the leader's conversation. Maybe something they would say would prove her wrong.
"At first, we thought it was a rogue passing through," Briarstar was saying, "But when one of my warriors heard one of the Shadowclan apprentices blabbering about it at a Gathering, I knew we had to be dealing with a clan cat. Although the question was there – which one?"
"That's when I caught the scent of Thunderclan," Mothstar cut in. "I figured it had to have been one of your cats to begin with, considering how thin and weak you guys are."
Mothstar's revelation seemed to confirm Featherpelt's suspicion, but it still did not explain how the Shadowclan scent was mixed in with the prey. A shred of hope wormed its way into Featherpelt's heart. Maybe Mothstar is lying. Maybe he is framing a Thunderclan cat to cover Shadowclan's tracks. But then again, how could he have gotten Cloudflight's scent?
"Don't call my warriors weak," Hawkclaw snarled. "And get on with the story. I've got better things to do than listen to an elder's tale."
"Anyways," Briarstar continued, "Mothstar came and told me what his clan found at a Gathering. Of course, we told your leader Eaglestar about it, but the old fool –"
"That's my father you're talking abo-"
" –wouldn't believe us. He just said his warriors wouldn't do such a thing and thought we were lying. This went on for moons until, finally, we decided we had enough. Our clans are starving because of the wastefulness of this cat, and we went to war with you guys."
"That is probably the stupidest reason I have ever heard about going to war with somebody!" Hawkclaw exclaimed. "Now get off my territory before I chase you out myself."
The leaders looked at the tom skeptically as if he was incapable of such a feat, but they dipped their heads respectfully at the deputy. "I would never have thought of you as a fool, Hawkclaw," Briarstar called. "You were never like your father." Then, he followed Mothstar out of the gorse tunnel.
"They're not wrong, you know," Skystar said, strolling up to Hawkclaw.
"And what are you doing here?" Hawkclaw demanded. He looked really annoyed. "Thunderclan had this battle under control. We didn't need charity from a bunch of fish faces."
Skystar's blue eyes blazed with fury as she curled her lips at the Thunderclan deputy. "Don't think we came to give you charity, Hawkclaw. We only came to make sure Shadowclan and Windclan didn't win, for Starclan knows it would only be a matter of time before they attacked us." Her expression softened into a smirk. "Besides, if my clan hadn't arrived, your scrawny, underfed hindquarters would have been crowfood."
Hawkclaw huffed. "Whatever. How did you know we were under attack?"
Skystar nodded at Featherpelt. "Her."
Hawkclaw followed her gaze and gasped. "Her? But she's a tra-"
Skystar shook her head. "Hawkclaw, that she-cat is as much of a traitor as I am a mouse. If she really wanted to betray Thunderclan, why would she have gotten help?"
Hawkclaw thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. All I know is that lowly piece of fox dung killed both my father and my brother. And - I am not saying I believe Briarstar and Mothstar's stupid stories - she was probably the one who started the war between the clans. After all, she is a loner. Maybe she got angry about being exiled and wanted to start a war between the clans." As Hawkclaw thought about it some more, he smiled a crazed smile. "It makes sense. Featherpelt is clan born after all. Her scent still smells of Thunderclan. That would explain why, even after moons of living in exile, her Thunderclan scent would have been left behind after she wasted prey on other clan's territories. It all makes sense now."
Skystar sighed. "Hawkclaw, I really thought you were smarter than this. Clearly, your hatred of Featherpelt has blinded you to the truth."
Hawkclaw lashed his bushy, brown tail in frustration. "I have a lot of reasons to hate Featherpelt!" he roared. "Is murdering my father and my brother not enough?"
"I don't know. Did you ever hear Featherpelt's side of the story?"
"Well, yes. For my father's murder, she spouted off some nonsense about how it wasn't her because she had been hunting –" He stopped in midsentence. His amber eyes widened as if he had just remembered something. A hush crept into his voice. "She also mentioned what the Windclan and Shadowclan leaders babbling." He shook his head. "But that still doesn't prove anything. She could have still done it and just reported it, so we wouldn't suspect her. And as for her killing my brother, I caught her covered in his blood."
"But did you listen to her side of the story?"
"Well, no. There was no need-"
"Then, why don't you do that right now?" Skystar suggested. Before Hawkclaw could reply, the black and white she-cat called for the loner to meet them. "Featherpelt, tell Hawkclaw what happened to his brother."
