SPARROWFLIGHT
It was past sunhigh when the shadows of LeafClan warriors appeared over the hills. The wind blustered through the fields, rippling the grass like river currents, blood red poppy heads stirring and nodding in the wind. A crisp, bracing air, and she shivered in the pale newleaf sun.
"We should charge them now!" Nettlefang hissed, tail whipping.
"No, Nettlefang," Sparrowflight sighed.
Burdockstar stepped forward, snarling. "Then you give them the advantage."
"Not a bit," Larkfeather countered with a hiss.
"Why wait? Give him time to rest and say his prayers?" Nettlefang scoffed.
"There's no need to rush headlong," Larkfeather said. "They may send a messenger."
"To tell us what? That we've been very naughty kits and will have to pick Deadnose's ticks to atone?"
Larkfeather's green eyes could've been stinging poison. "To listen to our demands."
"Be advised, and hold back," Sparrowflight snapped at her former apprentice again. Her littermate's kit. How she'd like to claw him into strips sometimes.
"You don't advise well," Burdockstar growled. "You speak with fear and a cold heart."
"Don't slander me, snake-eater," Larkfeather hissed. "Let's see later in the battle which one of us fears."
"Yes," Burdockstar growled. "Later, or now."
"Now!" Nettlefang spat.
Larkfeather rounded on the younger warrior. "Know your place, Nettlefang! Slow up!"
"We have had enough rest and delays as it is, sitting here watching the flowers grow! We could've been in LeafClan camp by now."
"This fight could be had today, or any day," Sparrowflight hissed. "We choose when it's fought, so choose a time and place we're sure to win."
They might have gone all day like that, but at a warrior's yowl, their attention turned to a tail moving through the undergrowth. A lone golden brown tabby crossed the field toward them, making no move to disguise her movements as she approached.
Beethorn. Come to speak with Rowanstar's voice. Larkfeather shot Nettlefang a silent glare, but their bickering lapsed into silence as the LeafClan deputy approached.
She stopped a healthy pace away, green eyes sweeping over the gathered HillClan, MireClan, and LeafClan warriors before settling on the leaders.
"I come with gracious offers from Rowanstar," Beethorn mewed, "if you're willing to lend your ears and respect."
"Welcome, Beethorn," Nettlefang said, "and it's a shame a warrior of your quality isn't fighting alongside us. Some of us love you well, even though you stand against us like an enemy."
"The warrior code determines where I stand, so long as you plot with our enemies," Beethorn growled in reply, to Nettlefang's sniff of contempt. "But to my message: Rowanstar has sent to know your grievances, and why you stir up violence and cruelty against our Clan's security. And if he has forgotten any of your good deeds you've done him, he asks you to name your griefs. All wrongs will be redressed, and complete forgiveness for yourselves and all those you've misled."
"Rowanstar's grown kind!" Nettlefang said with a gale of hot, acrid laughter. "He certainly knows when to promise, and when to pay. My father and my mentor helped give him that name he calls himself. When Rowanstar was alone, sick in the forest's regard, wretched, and low, a poor unminded rogue sneaking home, my father gave him a welcome home.
"And when he heard him swear to StarClan he only came to be restored as a warrior of LeafClan, my father swore his assistance and performed it too. And with Nightbird at his side, the warriors of the Clan followed his lead, and proffered him their oaths.
"Then he starts to step higher from the vow he made when his fortune was poor, sneaking around on Berry Hill. Cries out about Rosestar's abuses, seems to weep over his Clan's wrongs, and by this face, won the hearts of our warriors. But not before he went further, hunting down Briarstalk and Greeneyes like fresh-kill—"
"Tch, I didn't come to hear this," Beethorn hissed.
"Then to the point," Nettlefang growled back, lashing his tail. "Short time, he deposed Rosestar. Soon after, deprived him of his life. And, in the neck of that, has led us to defeat after defeat against our enemies.
"To make that worse, he abandoned Paleface, who should be leader if Rosestar had his way, and left him to rot. Disgraced me in my happy victories, disrespected my father and my mentor to their face, broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong, and finally drove us to flee LeafClan and challenge his rule!"
"Shall I return this answer to Rowanstar?" Beethorn said after a long moment, every syllable edged like flint.
"No, Beethorn," another voice spoke, Paleface striding up among them to shoulder Nettlefang out of the way. "Return to Rowanstar, and Sparrowflight will deliver our reply at dusk, if you leave a warrior here to guarantee her safe return."
The deputy's tail whipped back and forth, cocking her head. "I wish you'd accept his gracious offer."
"And maybe we shall," Paleface said with a flick of his tail. Dismissed. The gesture almost reminded her of Rosestar.
"I pray to the stars you do." With that, Beethorn disappeared back among the flowers, toward the LeafClan war party sure to be gathered on the other side.
And now all the rest would be in her paws, a future to mold like river sand.
The sun peered pale and bloody over the hills, thin raggedy clouds stained shades of magenta and gold. If anything, the wind only grew worse, whistling through the newleaf buds and flattening the grass, whipping at her fur as she crossed the field.
Larkfeather stalked at her side, her only security as they approached Rowanstar's war party. She glimpsed him atop a grassy bank, standing among flowers, his deputy and children at his side. Owlswoop stood nearby, Goosebelly, and others.
Others. She parted her mouth to taste the air. Had Larkfeather not said that she'd scented outsiders near their territory?
Sparrowflight came to a pause at the bottom of the bank, gazing up at her leader and clanmates. The deputy gave Owlswoop a nod, and the brown dappled tom started down the bank, moving toward the enemy encampment.
Surety. Sparrowflight for Owlswoop, a life for a life, in case anything happened to her here. Whatever comfort that was supposed to give her.
Rowanstar stood high on the grassy bank, framed against the darkening overcast sky. "How now, Sparrowflight?" the leader mewed, eyes glowing in the half-light. "It's not right that you and I should meet on such terms that we find ourselves now. You have deceived our trust and now bring rival Clans to shed blood on our own territory. This is not right, not right.
"What do you have to say for yourself? Will you help us untie this knot of hate and rebellion and serve us again? Or has this knot grown so tight that our bond can only be severed?"
"Hear me, Rowanstar," Sparrowflight mewed, voice level. "For my own part, I'd be content to be peacefully hunting mice and sunning in camp. I didn't seek the day of this hatred."
His eyes flashed. "You have not sought it?" Rowanstar said, with a breath of scornful laughter. "How comes it then?"
Goosebelly twitched his whiskers from a tuft of flowers. "Rebellion lay in her way, and she tripped over it." Even from where Sparrowflight stood, she could see Sunfire forcibly shoulder his one-time mentor.
"Quiet, you finch," she heard Sunfire hiss under his breath.
She ignored the fools, twitching her ears. "You were all too happy to turn your back on me and my kin. But I remind you, that we were your first and dearest friends when you returned from exile. For you, I allowed our warriors to leave without sounding the alarm, and fled our camp to stand at your side. When you were nothing."
Certainly nothing to her. Even if he had been a lover, a best friend, her close kin, nobody would have judged her for leaving a rogue to roam.
"It was myself, my brother, and my apprentice that brought you home and out-dared the dangers of the time. You swore to us, and swore your oath on Berry Hill and beneath the stars, that you had no malintentions against Rosestar or the Clan. That you only desired your restoration to LeafClan as a loyal warrior. To this, we swore our aid."
Rowanstar could have been sculpted from stone, so tense, his glare piercing as Sparrowflight continued to speak.
"But when good luck and advantages showered down on you, with Rosestar away fighting MireClan and unable to challenge you, you forgot your oath. And when you saw your chance, you took it all.
"Being fed by us, you used us like the cuckoo uses the sparrow—oppressed our nest, and grew so fat on our feeding that even our love doesn't come near your sight without fear of swallowing. With a nimble wing, for safety's sake we were forced to fly. And this is why we stand here now."
She lashed her tail, sweeping her gaze over the other LeafClan warriors, before turning her eyes back on Rowanstar. "Your mistreatment, your menacing looks, your violation of oaths and vows sworn in your younger days, have all forced us to stand against you."
"You have said this already, in so many fanciful terms," Rowanstar growled. "Disloyalty has never lacked thin excuses."
She might've laughed, if it wasn't so serious. All too painfully ironic, coming from his mouth. A hypocrite down to his whiskers.
Another golden furred warrior stepped forward, eyes shining. "Many innocent cats will pay dearly for this battle, if you fight it," Sunfire said, stealing their attention. "Tell your apprentice, Nettlefang, that I join the rest of the forest in singing his praises. I don't think a braver warrior, more daring or bold, is alive in LeafClan."
Always the joker. Sparrowflight searched the young warrior's face for sarcasm, bracing for some punchline fit for the apprentice's den, but Sunfire didn't betray a hint of it.
"For my part, I know I haven't always been… the greatest warrior, and there's a lot I could learn from him. To which I know he agrees." Sunfire puffed his chest out now. "So let him pit his name against mine. I stake my life against his to settle this feud. Let him fight for your cause, and I'll fight for my father's, and save the blood of every other warrior here. I know he'd like his odds."
She cocked her head at the young feather-brain. Surely he couldn't be serious, speaking out of turn again. When training Nettlefang, telling him to 'stop being a Sunpaw' was one of her usual and most effective refrains. Barely a warrior at all, last of his litter to earn a warrior name, and probably only because he was too old for an apprentice's nest.
"And, Sunfire, I'd almost let you," Rowanstar said. "But no, Sparrowflight, no. We love our clanmates well, even those misled by young Nettlefang. If you accept our offer of grace, then he, they, you, and every cat shall be my friend again, and I shall be theirs."
Sparrowflight whipped her tail, eyes narrowed into slits. Even the LeafClan warriors murmured among themselves.
"So tell your kin and allies, and bring word of what you choose," Rowanstar continued, his voice darkening. "But if you will not yield, then dread correction and rebuke will follow."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held his tail high in a command for silence.
"So begone," Rowanstar hissed. "No more arguments. I give you a fair offer, and advise you to take it."
With one last dip of her head toward her leader, Sparrowflight whirled around and started back toward the HillClan and MireClan war party, where Paleface and the others would be waiting. Larkfeather followed at her side, silent.
They moved alone through the meadow. In the sunshine, it droned with butterflies and bees, dragonflies darting among the poppy heads. Now there was no sound but the wind.
Sparrowflight glanced over her shoulder toward the brown tabby she-cat, whiskers tense. "Larkfeather," she mewed. "Paleface and Nettlefang must not know about Rowanstar's offer."
Her hackles rose, pausing in her tracks. "Isn't it best they did?" she mewed in disbelief.
"Then we're undone," Sparrowflight hissed. "It's not possible that Rowanstar will keep his word in forgiving us. He will always suspect us still and find a time to punish us for some other fault. The suspicion will always be hanging over us."
Treason was like a fox. No matter how docile it appeared, there was still a killer within. Whether they looked sad or put on smiles, suspicion would always twist their looks in Rowanstar's eyes.
"Nettlefang's trespasses might be forgiven," Sparrowflight mewed. "He has the excuse of youth, hot blood." A hare-brain governed by a spleen. "All his offenses live on my head, and on his father's. We trained him on, and his mistreadings will be blamed on us. And we will pay for it."
She touched her tail-tip to Larkfeather's shoulder.
"So, do not let them know Rowanstar's offer," Sparrowflight mewed. "Or else we lose our chance."
Larkfeather sighed, gazing out over the flowers before turning back to Sparrowflight. "Tell them what you will. I'll say it's the truth."
They weaved through the flowers, back toward where the war party was gathered. The MireClan warriors were growing frenetic, huddled in tight circles and loud prayers and chants growing up among them. HillClan prayed too, but with long, chilling yowls to the first faint stars studding the clouded dusk.
"The dawn that was promised! The falling of leaves! As it was, so shall it be!"
She padded back to the leaders in silence. Her eyes lingered on Paleface, and how his tail curled around the HillClan tortoiseshell, but said nothing.
"My mentor's returned," Nettlefang mewed. "Bring up Owlswoop. Tell us, Sparrowflight, what news?"
"Rowanstar prepares for battle," Sparrowflight said.
"Send our defiance back with this Owlswoop," Burdockstar growled, lashing her tail. Soon enough, she'd get her taste for blood. Enough to bathe in.
"Go, Burdockstar, and tell him so. If you have any special message for Rowanstar, have at it."
Burdockstar growled in approval, moving toward where Owlswoop stood stiffly among the party.
"There's no seeming mercy in Rowanstar," Sparrowflight said.
"Did you beg any?" Nettlefang laughed. "StarClan forbid."
"I told him gently of our grievances, of his oath-breaking, which he denied up and down," she mewed. "He calls us 'rebels,' 'traitors,' 'code-breakers,' and promises we will all pay the penalty for our transgressions."
Behind her, the MireClan leader went chasing Owlswoop back over the poppy fields. Zig-zagging, turning, before Owlswoop wheeled and sprinted off at full pelt back toward where Rowanstar was encamped. Burdockstar only followed a fox-length or two before turning back, laughing merrily.
Burdockstar walked among them now, her blood up, frenzy in her eyes. "Prepare, warriors! There's my message for Rowanstar. Do you think your Owlswoop will deliver it clearly?" Her warriors answered with bellows of approval.
"Ah, and more," Sparrowflight said with a flick of her tail, as the warriors stirred with commotion, battle yowls already rising up in the darkling air. It'd almost slipped her mind. "Sunfire stepped forward and challenged you to single combat."
Nettlefang bared his teeth in a savage grin. "Oh, if only this battle would lay on both our heads, and no one else might draw short breath today except me and him." He whipped his tail excitedly. "Tell me, tell me, what clever line did he use? Was it in contempt?"
Larkfeather raised her voice now. "No. I never heard a challenge given more modestly, issued like a brother. He gave you full respect, trimmed up your praises, admitted his own shortcomings... Said there was much he could learn from you."
"Larkfeather, I think you're charmed by his foolishness," Nettlefang laughed. "I've never heard of a more useless, kit-like warrior." He dropped his voice to a threatening edge, raking his claws through the grass. "Wherever he is in the battle, I'll answer his challenge, and let him die like a warrior even if he hasn't lived like one."
There were distant yowls, and across the meadow, the silhouettes of LeafClan warriors began to charge.
"With speed, warriors!" Paleface roared to the sky, Robinsong pressed close to his side and Duskstar beside him. "The time is now!"
"Let us embrace under the song of battle," the HillClan leader mewed. "For, earth to Silverpelt, some of us shall never have a second chance for such a courtesy."
"If we live, we live to tread on tyrants," Nettlefang shouted. "If we die, then brave death, when warriors die with us! Now, be hopeful, LeafClan, friends, and set on!"
Together, they charged. Sparrowflight and Nettlefang, Larkfeather, Thrushear; Burdockstar and her groomed MireClan warriors; Paleface, Robinsong, Duskstar, lithe HillClan shapes racing out ahead of them. Her paws pounded over the grass, through the sea of poppies, into the heart of battle.
LeafClan's fate was decided tonight.