Chapter 3 ❖ Martenfur
Grief weighed down his spirit just as Sparrowstar's body weighed down his muscled shoulders. The red-brown tabby kept his steps steady, focussing on anything but the stench of poison and death that seemed to surround him. The beating of his heart became erratic, fear entering the usually fearless warrior as unbidden thoughts entered his mind.
What do we do now that Sparrowstar is gone? he thought. How can we continue on without the leader who brought us here? The idea that RockClan would need to go on without the tortoiseshell leader, the only leader he'd known his whole life, was almost unbearable. Martenfur wondered if others felt the same way. The slump of Runningheart's shoulders told Martenfur that nothing would be the same.
The trek to camp seemed to drag on longer than it usually did, leaving the warrior unsure if it was the physical distance or the exhaustion from the events of the day. Whether he wanted to get back to camp at all was debatable, as that was when the question would start. Judging from Runningheart's frail state and Emberpaw's youth, the one answering them would be Martenfur. Despite his general air of confidence, he did not find himself looking forward to it.
The moment arrived all the same. Laying the body of the tortoiseshell down before the Fallen Tree, her den, Martenfur turned to see his Clanmates staring down from their dens and various locations around the camp. Their eyes were wide and grief descended upon the camp like a dark cloud. Runningheart remained beside the body of his sister, staring down at her dull fur. To the red-brown tom's surprise, Emberpaw remained nearby as well, sitting calmly as cats began to approach them.
The first cry came from Dapplefur, Sparrowstar's sister, who came running from the nursery, amber eyes filled with dismay. She collapsed next to her sister's body and Runningheart put his tail comfortingly around her shoulders. The others began to crowd in around them in order to get a better look and Martenfur felt the need to say something in order to give the grieving cats some space.
No sooner had he opened his mouth than a different voice rang out across the canyon camp. The crowd stopped to let the deputy through their midst, whose yellow eyes took in the damage carefully.
"What happened?" Beetlewatcher asked, his voice low and soft.
All eyes, including Martenfur's own, turned to Runningheart. If anyone was able to explain what happened, it would be the senior warrior on the patrol. But the silence dragged on and Runningheart said nothing, seemingly lost in a different world.
Martenfur suddenly found himself the centre of attention. Though he did not mind attention in the slightest, he found the calmness in Beetlewatcher's gaze both irritating and admirable. How could the deputy remain so collected at a time like this? His own eyes were probably filled with loss and fear. Avoiding looking the black tom straight in the eye, Martenfur answered his question as confidently as he could.
"We were patrolling near Big Rock when a rattlesnake attacked. It struck Sparrowstar in the throat and... Well, there was no time to react because of how fast it all happened. We were too far away to call for help or get back here in time to save her." There was a stunned silence following his words and all the young warrior could do was turn to the limp body of his former leader and whisper, "I'm sorry."
A soft murmuring broke the silence, crescendoing like water as it hit rapids, until the voices of disbelieving and terrified cats filled the canyon.
"Why would StarClan ever do this to us?" Gentlefern asked, her voice filled with misery.
"Not everything is in StarClan's paws," replied Beartooth, her mate, attempting to console her.
"Perhaps it is a sign?" asked Badgerclaw.
"What if we are in danger here?" asked Silverhawk.
"We can't leave, we just got here!" Ripplestream wailed, wrapping her tail protectively around her two small kits.
The queries went back and forth, a general panic beginning to rise among the gathered cats, until Martenfur felt that he could no longer listen. Where were his Clan members' loyalties? Did they really believe that StarClan would take Sparrowstar in such a way to give them a sign? Surely she or Otterheart would have received an omen instead?
He turned to Beetlewatcher and found the tom's eyes on him, an understanding look already in his eyes without the warrior having so much as breathed a word. Though the two did not have very much in common, they agreed on the one thing that truly mattered: loyalty. The deputy jumped onto the Fallen Tree in one fluid movement and his yowl brought everyone to attention.
"Cats of RockClan," Beetlewatcher began. "We are gathered here today to honour the passing of a great leader - Sparrowstar. It was her courage and strength of spirit that got us to where we are now. Let us not fight over what is to be done now, but trust that she knew what she was doing when she brought us here." Here, the black tom paused, surveying the crowd for any sign of discontent. A few grumbles could be heard, but no outright protests.
Moments later, the other patrol arrived, coming back from their patrol of the south border. Palethorn, at the head of the patrol, stopped short when his eyes fell on Sparrowstar. Behind him, Mapleblossom's eyes widened, Littlepaw's fur bristled and Morningbreeze let out a cry of shock.
"What is the meaning of this?" Palethorn growled.
Feeling the need to explain, Martenfur stepped forward. "A rattlesnake came out of nowhere and bit Sparrowstar in the - "
"I didn't ask you," Palethorn hissed before turning to Beetlewatcher. Martenfur's eyes flashed in annoyance when the pale tom did not interrupt the deputy, even though he explained with the exact same words Martenfur used previously.
"We will carry out vigil for Sparrowstar tonight and bury her in the morning," Beetlewatcher continued, eyes falling on the two elders of the Clan, Goldfur and Thistleclaw. The old cats bowed their heads and began to discuss where they would bury the former leader.
"On the cliff," a weak voice said. It took Martenfur a moment to recognize Runningheart's soft and distorted voice, a vast difference from his usual boisterous one. "She wanted to be buried on the cliff."
Palethorn scoffed. "Why on the cliff? Her remains will rot if they are that close to the sun. She should be buried somewhere in the shade." Beside him, Frostfur nodded her head in agreement.
"She wanted to be buried on the cliff so that she could watch over her Clan." The statement came from behind him, leaving Martenfur shocked that Emberpaw said anything, let alone in response to her despondent father. The white tom's hatred for his daughter, for reasons unknwon to many in the Clan, was no secret. The look in the tom's eyes as he turned to the apprentice made Martenfur feel sorry for her and, instinctively, he moved in between the senior warrior's piercing gaze and Emberpaw's form.
Beetlewatcher was quick to break the tension. "She will be buried on the cliff, as was her wish. The sun is quickly disappearing and the next deputy must be appointed before moonhigh." The words caused a shuffling within the crowd and, though Martenfur could not be sure, he thought he saw Palethorn sit up a little straighter.
"I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. The new deputy of RockClan will be Redblaze." Martenfur swelled with pride as he watched the humble and generous warrior bow his head in gratitude. His mentor would make a fine deputy.
"May you remember that your loyalties are to your Clan and not necessarily to your leader, Redblaze, and may you serve the Clan for many moons to come. Now, let us eat and share tongues before mourning commences. I will set out for Moon Rocks tomorrow to receive my nine lives." With that, Beetlewatcher disappeared from the Fallen Tree and led the way to the fresh-kill pile.
Martenfur decided to wait before grabbing some fresh-kill; socializing sounded tedious, an unusual thought for a friendly tom like him, and eating even more so. Instead, he pondered Beetlewatcher's words to Redblaze, thinking about their significance to the whole Clan, not just the new deputy. Frowning, the red-brown tabby wondered how his fellow Clan members could even think about disloyalty. As far as he was concerned, loyalty was most important when it came to his Clan. Coming out of his musings with a sigh, he became aware of eyes on his back.
Emberpaw sat in the exact same spot as when they first arrived in camp. Her tortoiseshell fur was only now beginning to lie flat. She seemed lost in thought and her eyes gave nothing away.
"Hey, you alright?" Martenfur decided to ask, his usual friendly tone replaced by a sombre one after the events of the day. The amber of her gaze washed over him and he made sure to stare right back, concentrating. After experiencing such an event as this, he felt as if the two should have a connection. Maybe a shared sorrow, an understanding, or a trust of some sort. Instead, the apprentice seemed more detached than ever and, try as he might, Martenfur was not able to break through her shell.
"I'm fine," she said icily. "Goodnight, Martenfur." She got up and, with a lash of her tail, moved past him.