LEEKROOT
They stood over the MeadowClan fresh-kill pile with devouring eyes that night, pulling away carp and trout and catfish, a starling and chickadees, mice and voles. Fish was a rare novelty for him, and not exactly a favorite; the little things he'd caught as an apprentice in the hills were thin, noodly things, all bones.
It was more the sport of catching them, than the joy of eating them.
Those brown spotted loaches and catfish that darted upcurrent in rocky mountain streams, they were scraps compared to these monstrous looking things. He figured MeadowClan cats must have gills and webbed paws to pull such prey from the riverbed. And just then, keenly attuned to the growl in his stomach, he'd be willing to eat fish every day for the rest of his life.
But even with enough prey to feed an entire Clan, Sunstar had them share their fresh-kill, setting aside half the spoils for the kits and elders in LeafClan camp.
Sunstar swept uneven golden eyes over the haul, taking no prey for himself. "We can store this fresh-kill on the other side of the river for the cats back home to collect. Quailtail and our apprentices have a challenge as testing as ours, to provide for the camp while the warriors are away. They will welcome the supplies, and we must keep our claws free."
Perhaps even more precious than the fresh-kill were the medicine supplies… He could taste the fragrance of catmint in the air, even from where he sat, eyes darting around the room for his own share of prey.
The apprentices ate together, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Sunstar was in deep conversation with Hawkwing and Boulderstep, while Owlswoop and Swiftstorm shared tongues over the clean prey-bones. When Leekroot stalked past Mistpelt, Tansyslip, and Kestrelstrike, the LeafClan tortoiseshell gave him a sharp hiss, and he walked on.
Leekroot learned their names, but it was hard to know their hearts. They were no clanmates of his, but he took some solace in knowing he wasn't the strangest outsider tagging along with these LeafClan marauders.
The rogues—Scratchy, Sneezy, and Mange, or whatever their names were. They had their whiskers full of scraps of fresh-kill, batting and hissing at each other, greedy paws darting in between each other's legs. A mangled pile of bones and feathers slid back and forth between the three of them.
Nor did he choose to disturb their leader's littermates, Honeypad and Sorreltail. The dusky ginger she-cat, Sunstar's sister, gave him a courteous blink of acknowledgement as he walked past. But it quickly turned back into a wince of pain; her leg was bound tight in cobwebs.
He felt a prod at his side and turned. One of the senior warriors, Asterstripe, wordlessly slid him his half-finished carp. A sullen, aloof sort of cat, a loner among his own clanmates, the LeafClan tom's yellow eyes had never seemed to offer kindness.
Actions spoke loud enough. "Why, thank you," Leekroot managed at last with a gracious nod of his head.
Asterstripe twitched his whiskers. "Don't thank me. You need to keep your strength up. And I gave you the worst half."
The fish was mostly head and fins now, fresh-kill's huge eyes stared up at him in mute, sightless appeal. But the worst? He'd met a MeadowClan cat at a Gathering once who told him quite the contrary. Leekroot bent down to rip at the tender, fatty flesh in the cheeks, ripping into it with a ravenousness that surprised himself, and then moving to pierce the eyeballs with his teeth, slurping out the cold, salty jelly.
He felt the cornea crunch in his mouth, and managed a grin at Asterstripe's revolted expression. "No, truly, thank you."
They slipped out of the barn before first light. Sunstar went racing ahead with the apprentices and half the warriors, jaws full of fresh-kill as they made a straight line back toward the border. Leekroot relished the run, long limbs loping over the gently rolling fields and pastures, skirting alongside the occasional Twoleg fence.
But his light spirit might have mocked the skies above, as the clouds took on a dark aspect. The wind began to ruffle at his short coat, chasing them back to the border.
The sun hardly seemed to rise when the light began to diminish again, a taste in the air promising rain and worse.
He heard the river before they saw it, as the first droplets began to spot the earth. LeafClan cats cursed with chattering teeth as they approached the bank's edge, and saw the river over-swelling with frothing torrents. Chunks of ice broke and floated away in the surging waters.
"How do we get back across?" he heard Swiftstorm curse.
They went racing upstream, eyes peeled for any sort of crossing. LeafClan's forest lurked beyond the silver curtain of rain, so close, but it might as well have been a world away.
He didn't even think the fish could swim in that.
When they caught MeadowClan scents blown on the wind, they only raced faster up along the river's course. The pursuit was on.
"There, up ahead!" shouted Mistpelt breathlessly, almost stumbling as she cast a glance behind her. "A fallen tree!"
Up ahead, where LeafClan's forest leaned in to cast its shadows over the water, a dark pine choked the narrow neck of the river like an armbar. The hissing water spat and foamed and bubbled beneath the half-submerged trunk, heavy branches and strips of bark already torn away.
Leekroot cast another glance behind him, and there was no mistaking it. A forward MeadowClan patrol, some seven or eight cats, racing over the plains toward them.
"Sunstar! Take the spoils into the forest, and I'll guard the crossing!" Boulderstep bellowed. The rain fell in earnest now. "No MeadowClan cats will threaten LeafClan territory today."
They approached where the tree had fallen, but the roar of water had grown even more frightful to his ears. Now that he was standing in front of it, the tree bridge did not seem half as much of a miracle as he'd first hoped. They had to start from the spindly top of the tree, across the trunk, and jump to shore where the old leaning pine had torn itself from the roots.
Sunstar was first up onto the bridge, prey swinging from his jaws, paws splashing in the water as the top of the pine bobbed under his weight. Leekroot's stomach churned watching how the trunk swayed beneath the LeafClan leader, but he kept a steady pace across until he was clear on the other side.
Then came Owlswoop, Hawkwing, Asterstripe, and Tansyslip, each with prey in their jaws. Acornpaw scampered across as easy as a squirrel, as Sedgepaw and Shadepaw each took their time edging over the water. Sedgepaw stopped halfway over the tree, almost paralyzed, and it took Honeypad's shouts of encouragement from the bank. Sorreltail and Honeypad followed their apprentices over the bridge, and Swiftstorm after them, even more hurried now.
They had no time to spare.
Elmpaw froze, one too many bundles of herbs in the medicine cat apprentice's mouth. Catmint and juniper berries and sweet-sedge root, all invaluable leaf-bare herbs. But she was shaking uncontrollably as she approached the edge of the river.
"I can't… do… it…" she mouthed through mouthfuls of leaves and stems, golden eyes wide with fear.
"Yes, you can do it, Elmpaw," Kestrelstrike said. "You have to do it."
Leekroot's eyes flicked to the remaining LeafClan warriors. "Carry the herbs for her. You, Mistpelt, and you rogues."
Old Scratch bristled. "The taste of your wildcat medicine makes me qualmish…!"
"You can taste that or your own teeth!" Leekroot snarled.
"Take it yourself then!" Scratch glanced over her shoulder and then went scrambling gracelessly ahead on the bridge, even as Leekroot shouted curses after her.
Nimble and Sneezy followed Scratch's eyes, bushing out their fur. "I see them…!" Nimble hissed, bolting up onto the tree now. "The meadow-cats! The meadow-cats are coming!"
Leekroot darted in front of Sneezy as he tried to scramble clumsily after his friends, blocking the bridge. "Take the herbs, or you'll wish MeadowClan found you first!"
Elmpaw gave up the leaf bundles, fretting as Sneezy and Mistpelt both stooped to pick them up. "I can't do it…!" she said, her voice almost a whisper despite the strain. "I can't, I'll fall…!"
"You won't fall," Kestrelstrike said, as Sneezy climbed gracelessly onto the pine and began sidling his way across. The young warrior put a tail-tip on the apprentice's shoulder. "We won't let you fall. Mistpelt will be in front, and I'll go behind you."
The white tortoiseshell went first, the leaf bundle clenched gingerly in her teeth. Elmpaw clambered onto the tree as Kestrelstrike took the final leaf bundle in his mouth. He waited patiently at the bank, the medicine cat apprentice casting pausing to glance behind her as she inched over the thin, swaying bridge.
Kestrelstrike mewed, "Keep your eyes in front of you the whole way, Elmpaw. Don't worry. I'll be a tail-length away."
Leekroot was not half so patient, his tail flicking with agitation. It was just him and Boulderstep left on the shore, as the young warriors guided the apprentice across. And yes, looking behind him, he could see them, even make out the patterns of their pelts in the not-so-far distance.
The LeafClan deputy seemed unbothered in the rain. "You're an able warrior, HillClan cat," he mewed in his deep bassy voice. "We may not be your clanmates. But if I fall, will you take my place and keep this bridge?"
He hadn't the faintest idea how to answer that. But both their attention was snapped away by a sudden yelp, where the three cats hovered mid-crossing over the river. The tree sagged dangerously beneath their weight, water rushing over their paws, as Elmpaw began to slip.
But only for a moment. Kestrelstrike corrected her balance with a light nudge, only to lose his own footing. One leg went plunging into the water, the leaf bundle still clenched in his teeth, as he dug his claws into the soft, wet bark. Elmpaw gave another yelp as Kestrelstrike went slowly slipping down, his claws raking fine grooves into the wood, unable to find purchase.
Mistpelt turned, wobbling, to try and reach for him. The herbs went flying for her mouth as she cried out her brother's name, blades of sweet-sedge swept away into the current.
"Go! Keep going…! Get Elmpaw to the other side!" Leekroot shouted, slogging mindlessly through the shallows as he scrambled up onto the pine, weaving between boughs. StarClan, it's slippery. Bark sloughed off like dead flesh, leaving slick and smooth beneath his paws, but still he went forward.
Not able to reach his scruff, Leekroot grabbed him by the base of his tail. Kestrelstrike yowled like the lions he'd heard in the mountains with Robinstar—as well as any cat could, with their mouth full of herbs.
Mistpelt gazed helplessly on before beckoning the apprentice with her paws, surging over those last few insurmountable strides before leaping to shore. Elmpaw jumped to the stones after her, her breaths quick and sharp, still quietly shaking as if she'd been dunked in ice.
The HillClan warrior yanked him back, until Kestrelstrike found his four paws again, his pelt half plastered to his pelt. Shivering, the young warrior continued on, Leekroot behind him.
When they finally bounded onto LeafClan's side of the riverbank, Leekroot just gave a silent prayer to StarClan, glad to feel the rough rain-slick stones beneath his pads. Mistpelt rushed to greet her brother with furious licks over the ear, as he let the bundle drop from his mouth.
"I still saved the medicine," Kestrelstrike purred between ragged breaths, carefully unpeeling the bundle. But the juniper berries within had been crunched into purple-blue pulp between his teeth. He just gave a low moan, sinking back onto his haunches.
Almost all the others had followed Sunstar into the forest, but one LeafClan cat had stayed behind. For a cat his size, he moved with a sort of fluid grace, creeping backward across the fallen tree before finding his perch midway across.
Clustered around the shore, the MeadowClan border patrol had arrived, hissing and growling insults at the LeafClan deputy on the tree. They swarmed and crossed in front of each other like a pack of baying hounds, hungry for their blood.
"I am Boulderstep, deputy of LeafClan," the gray tom said, "and you are trespassing on our new hunting grounds."
The MeadowClan cats spat venom in his face, one white tom with green eyes leaping onto the bridge, a ginger and a black cat following after him. Boulderstep kept his post, still as the tree swayed and bobbed dangerously beneath him.
"Good StarClan, they'll get themselves all swept away!" Mistpelt hissed. The white tom lunged low at Boulderstep, but he batted him back with a heavy swat of his paws. Then the deputy went stepping forward, swiping and slashing with a lion's reach.
When the white tom tried to back up, he tangled himself with his ginger clanmate, and both went splashing into the river with a yelp. "Sheephead! Applestem!" The black MeadowClan warrior took one last furious look at Boulderstep before leaping down into the shallows, shouting after their clanmate.
The MeadowClan cats on the shore joined the shout and went running down along the bank as the two cats went sweeping away downriver, their heads bobbing just above the frothing torrent as they were carried violently away.
One of them, a gray tabby, went leaping into the water after them, smooth as an otter as he grabbed at one clanmate and pulled their head above water. Even Leekroot had to admire the MeadowClan cats' strength as more went diving fearlessly into the water, breaking across the powerful current.
But not even they would dare try to swim to the other side. Not here, in this stretch of the river.
As the MeadowClan patrol seemed to scatter, Boulderstep calmly crossed back over to LeafClan's shore. "This is a breath, nothing more. Sunstar must cross back over here or somewhere else along the river as soon as we are prepared, or the MeadowClan cats will cross themselves."
Keep LeafClan's camp safe from invasion, by living on enemy lands and forcing MeadowClan to chase their warriors up and down the prairie. A pretty strategy that the old coots Murkpool and Close-eye had sold them, but it made him feel like a hare just a claws-length away from death.
There was no way they could survive a full battle against a Clan of their numbers. All they could do was lurk, run, strike a jab, and chip away, and chip away. But that was no formula for a knockout blow. Any HillClan apprentice could see that.
"The herbs were lost," Elmpaw sighed. "All the sweet-sedge and juniper berries…"
"Not all," Mistpelt said, as they plunged back into the cool cover of the trees. Leekroot had taken a special relish in being under the open skies again—LeafClan's woods seemed so dark, tangled, sinister. But even he couldn't deny he was glad for the cover, as they followed the rest of the LeafClan war party's scents into the forest.
They would be storing prey, perhaps sending a runner back to camp. And they would have to rendezvous, cross back over the river, and begin the cat-and-mouse hunt again. He was forcibly reminded of the growl in his own stomach as they walked through the trees, the leaves shedding rain in rivulets.
The first cats he saw were not LeafClan at all, but two of the rogues that Sunstar had recruited. They were both half-hidden among the ferns, hunched over, heads low.
A stone feeling filled his gut. "Sneezy and Nimble," Leekroot called out. Sneezy obediently raised his head with a long sniff, blinking gormlessly. But Nimble froze, still keeping low, and like a frightened hare went bolting off into the bushes.
"Hey! Where is that crowfood-eater going?" Kestrelstrike snapped. But Boulderstep and Leekroot's eyes were narrowed at Sneezy as the sooty black tom sneezed, sneezed again, sneezed thrice in rapid succession. Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!
His muzzle was flecked with green stems, the last of the catmint specking his mouth and whiskers.
Leekroot stood to himself, beneath the shelter of a tree by the riverside. The other LeafClan cats returned in a trickle. He was quite busy staring blankly across the river when Tansyslip padded past him, pausing with a trepidatious flick of her ears.
"HillClan," she mewed by way of greeting. "Did everything go well at the crossing?"
Yes, and no. "Every cat got across in the end. Boulderstep held the crossing himself."
Tansyslip gave a sigh of relief. "And is Boulderstep safe?"
"He's not hurt, StarClan be praised," Leekroot said, his tail twitching. "You LeafClan cats handled yourselves just fine, but I think your rogue friends are as valiant as voles. All they could think about was saving their own pelts."
"That doesn't surprise me," Tansyslip said. "Even if we need every pair of claws we can get."
"You know the one they call Old Scratch?" Leekroot said with a pointed glare, parting his mouth to taste the air. He could whiff out her Twoleg-blasted, crowfood-tinged stench even now. "Here she comes now."
She came stumbling through the wood, ringed tail bushed out. From everything he'd seen of the cat, from swiping Sunstar across the head to her antics in the barn, she masked her mouseish heart with bluster, fire, and curses. But that mask was shattered now, eyes wild as she trampled over the undergrowth toward Leekroot and Tansyslip.
"HillClan cat," Old Scratch started, stumbling in their direction. "Leekroot, I beg you to do me a favor… Boulderstep respects your word."
Was that so? Leekroot's tail kinked. "Yes, StarClan praised, I hope I've merited some respect by now," he said flatly. Although none of these squirrel-chasers ever called him anything but 'HillClan', or something along the lines of 'rabbit' when they thought he couldn't hear.
Old Scratch swallowed hard. "Sneezy… a warrior firm and sound of heart, a-and of buxom valor, has fallen to poor fortune—"
"Testing your patience, Old Scratch," Leekroot said lowly, eyes narrowing. "Poor fortune teaches good morals."
"Fortune is Sneezy's foe and frowns on him," Scratch rasped, whiskers drooping. "The LeafClan cats want to kill him over a trifle of catmint!"
Tansyslip gave a sharp intake of breath. "He ate our catmint?"
"Go speak," Old Scratch urged, her voice breaking with emotion now, tears threatening to brim in her eyes. "Boulderstep will hear your voice. Speak, Leekroot, for his life, and I will requite…! Anything you ask!"
Leekroot looked her searchingly in the face. The torment was genuine in the old rogue. "Old Scratch, I partly understand your meaning…"
She grinned, murky green eyes brightening up through the tears. "Then rejoice!"
"It is nothing to rejoice at," Leekroot hissed, making that grin curdle. "Because, look you, if he were my littermate, I would desire Boulderstep to put him to death. Discipline ought to be used."
"Die and crows peck your eyes," Old Scratch moaned, staggering back now. "And dirt for your friendship!"
"Yeah, good, okay," Leekroot murmured, padding in the other direction as the rogue went sobbing into the woods.
Tansyslip followed just behind the HillClan warrior, expression still in disbelief. "Rogues, I knew we couldn't trust them," she said. "That Old Scratch is among the worst."
"I assure you, she speaks as bravely as any cat, when there's nothing to fear."
"And what about that other one?" Tansyslip questioned. "Nimble, the tabby."
"As guilty as Sneezy, only with the sense to run. But may StarClan have mercy on him when he's caught."
They gathered at the riverbank now, early dusk settling over their heads. Boulderstep and Kestrelstrike flanked Sneezy, but the rogue made no move to flee. He just sat dejectedly on the stones, gazing around, sniffing at the long clear bead of snot that would droop from his fiery inflamed nose.
The rain speckled and bedewed their coats, a gentle drizzle that rippled and creased the silver water behind them. It was not long before Sunstar and the rest of the war party returned, the golden-furred LeafClan leader's eyes meeting him in passing.
"Leekroot," he greeted. "I saw you were among the last to cross. Did every cat get to shore safely?"
"Yes, Sunstar," Leekroot said with a bow of his head. He thought Sunstar might smile in relief. "Your deputy very gallantly maintained the bridge. I can tell you he's a brave warrior. But we're not without losses. The herbs were lost."
That flicker of a smile curdled in an instant, stretching into grim horror.
"This Sneezy, if you know him well, ate the Clan's catmint while the warriors were still crossing." Leekroot gestured to the rogue and the deputy, as Sunfire looked deep in Sneezy's face. The sooty black tom's nose was like a burning coal, but the fire would soon be out if there were any justice. One stalk of catmint might save a clanmate's life in leaf-bare.
"He and Nimble both," Boulderstep's voice rumbled, yellow eyes glowing in the half-light. Murmurs and disgusted groans rippled through the LeafClan warriors. "And I suspect they have been stealing more than their share of fresh-kill. These cats are outside the code, Sunstar. It's my opinion they deserve the ultimate penalty."
Sunstar was silent, and Sneezy, and all was silent except the rain. The leader's voice was hoarse when he spoke. "I would have all code-breakers so cut off."
With that approval, Boulderstep seized in as sudden as a heart attack, clamping his jaws around Sneezy's throat. The sooty black tom spasmed in the gray warrior's deathful embrace, twitching his tail, red and white spittle gurgling up from his throat, and then was still. Boulderstep allowed him to slump to the ground and stepped back, eyes low.
The war party crossed back over under cover of darkness, with no shelter from the howling wind or misting rain in the open grasslands. They trudged through pastures full of goat dirt and swollen streams, legs and bellies wet from the damp grass, the earth growing spongy beneath their paws.
"This will all turn to mud," Sorreltail complained to Hawkwing.
There were distant cows on the ridge, monstrous spotted beasts, standing beneath the overhanging roof of a barn. The distant barking of dogs, that set all their hackles on end, and all the strange sights of MeadowClan territory.
In some ways, he was almost reminded of HillClan's moors. Only to be reminded, over and over again, that he was far from home and safety. Home didn't have such meaning, to a warrior without a Clan. Perhaps that made him a loner, a mercenary fighting for fresh-kill, like Old Scratch.
The rogue still followed along with them, even after the condemnation of her fellows. Perhaps she had nowhere better to go. Perhaps she was too afraid to journey back to Twolegplace alone. It did not stop her from glaring poison into his eyes every time they chanced to glance in each other's directions. She'd spit and snarl and rake her claws and lash her tail, murmuring half-heard curses under her breath at every opportunity.
As if it was his fault. He'd made his share of mistakes in his life, but he wouldn't bear the fate of rogues like Nimble and Sneezy on his conscience.
All this running and fighting on half-empty stomachs, he felt the fatigue sinking into him early as they forded another creek. With a signal from Sunstar and a few barked orders from Boulderstep, they began looking for shelter among the tall reeds further upstream.
Sleeping beneath the stars, that was nothing new to him. Although he might trade all his damp fur for a dry nest.
Before they could find rest, they found the MeadowClan medicine cat. Raggedweed seemed to almost be waiting for them on the other side of the stream, yellow eyes glowing in the night, his strangely bent tail sweeping the grass behind him.
"You know me," Raggedweed mewed from across the creek, as Sunstar and the rest of the LeafClan war party approached.
"Indeed, I know you," Sunstar said flatly. "What shall I know of you?"
"My leader's mind," Raggedweed answered.
"Unfold it."
The medicine cat's eyes swept the LeafClan war party. "Thus says Lilystar: to tell Sunstar although we seemed dead, we only slept. Advantage is a better warrior than rashness. Tell him we could have crushed him at the border, but we thought it was not good to bruise an injury until it was fully ripe.
"Now we come with our full power. LeafClan shall repent their folly, see their weakness, and admire our patience. If Sunstar surrenders himself to our imprisonment, and orders his warriors home to their territory, then LeafClan shall be left to live in peace, and we may yet spare his life.
"But bid him to consider his ransom, which must proportion the outrages we have borne, the fresh-kill and herbs that were stolen, the wounds to our warriors, and terror to our queens and elders. And to this, add defiance, and tell him he has betrayed his warriors, who shall be condemned to fall beside their leader!"
Sunstar's expression remained even. "It might not be wise to confess this to such a crafty and powerful enemy, but I'll speak the truth. My warriors are enfeebled by hunger, sickness, and exhaustion, my numbers lessened, and those few I have… Almost no better than so many MeadowClan cats."
He gave a sweep of his tail, warriors silent behind him.
"When they were in health, Raggedweed, I thought a pair of LeafClan legs were worth three MeadowClan warriors," Sunstar went on. "StarClan forgive me for my boasts. So go, tell your leader: here I am. My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk, my warriors but a weak and sickly patrol. Yet tell him we will come on even if MeadowClan, MireClan, and all the stars in Silverpelt stand in our way.
"If we may roam, hunt, and set our border markers in peace, then we will. If we are hindered, we'll stain your tawny ground red with blood. And so, Raggedweed, there is our answer. We would not seek a battle as we are, but we will not shun it."
Raggedweed flicked his bent tail, eyes glinting in the darkness. "I shall deliver so."
They watched the medicine cat pad alone over the grasslands, to where a full MeadowClan war party doubtlessly was gathering in preparation. He'd long seen their numbers at the Gathering, almost overwhelming the other three Clans together.
Or two. Perhaps he was the very last HillClan cat in any of the four territories. It sent a pang through his heart.
"I hope they don't attack us now," Honeypad murmured.
"We're in StarClan's paws, sister," Sunstar answered. "Not in theirs. Let's find a camp for the night."
Eventually, they found it, where the creek widened around a small green island cloaked with hawthorn trees. Somewhere defensible to rest the night away, for StarClan knew that MeadowClan would be on them at first light.
An early taste of StarClan's hunting grounds tonight, perhaps. If only the rain would let up.