Эрин Хантер – SUNSET (страница 3)
Midnight peered at Stormfur with short-sighted eyes. Then she gave a small nod. “Cat friend from journey,” she rumbled. “Good it is to see you again. And this cat from mountain Tribe, is she not?” she added, gesturing with her snout towards Brook.
“That’s right,” Stormfur meowed. “This is Brook, a prey-hunter from the Tribe of Rushing Water.” He beckoned Brook forward with his tail; she went over reluctantly, as if she couldn’t quite believe this badger was friendly. Brambleclaw understood her feelings; he knew Midnight as well as any cat, but it was hard not to look at her bulky shape without remembering snapping jaws, fierce gleaming eyes, and claws that shredded cats’ fur like leaves in newleaf . . .
There was the sound of heavy paws, and he looked up to see Midnight standing beside him. Grief and anger sparked from her berry-bright eyes. “Too late my warning,” she rasped. “Not enough could I do.”
“You brought WindClan to help us,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “Without you, our whole Clan would have been wiped out.”
Midnight bowed her head, the white stripe that ran the length of her snout gleaming in the faint moonlight. “Shame for my kin I feel.”
“Every cat knows this attack had nothing to do with you,” Brambleclaw told her. “You will always be welcome in this Clan.”
Midnight still looked troubled. Behind her, Brambleclaw spotted his Clan leader near the centre of the clearing, with Onestar and the WindClan warriors. He padded towards them, motioning with his tail for Stormfur and Brook to follow. A fox-length away, in the shelter of an upturned thorn-bush, Leafpool was bending over the limp body of Ashfur. For a heartbeat Brambleclaw wondered if the grey warrior was dead, until he saw Ashfur’s tail twitch.
Firestar’s chest still heaved from the effort of fighting. His flame-coloured pelt was torn, and blood was oozing from a long scratch along his flank. Brambleclaw felt a flash of concern. Had his leader lost another life? Whether he had or not, he was badly hurt.
In spite of his injuries, Firestar’s eyes were bright and he sat up straight as he faced the WindClan leader, Onestar. “The thanks of all ThunderClan go with you,” he meowed.
“I doubt you’ll have any more trouble with the badgers,” Onestar replied. “But I can leave a couple of warriors behind to keep watch, if you like.”
“No thanks, I don’t think we’ll need them.” The warmth in Firestar’s eyes revealed the long friendship between these two cats. Brambleclaw silently thanked StarClan that the tension between them, which everyone had felt since Onestar became WindClan leader, seemed to be over at last. “Do your warriors need the help of our medicine cat before you go?” the ThunderClan leader added. “If any of them are badly injured, they’re welcome to stay here.”
Brambleclaw glanced across at Leafpool, who was still crouched beside Ashfur. When she heard Firestar, she raised her head and stared across the clearing at the WindClan warriors. Brambleclaw felt a stab of sympathy as her gaze sought out one in particular. Two days ago, Crowfeather and Leafpool had abandoned their Clans so that they could be together, but news of the badger attack had brought them home again. Brambleclaw hoped that Leafpool had come home for good; ThunderClan needed her more than ever now that so many cats had been wounded in the badger attack.
Crowfeather was staring down at his paws as if he was deliberately avoiding Leafpool’s gaze. Fur was missing from a broad scratch on his flank, but the wound had stopped bleeding and he stood with his weight on all four paws. Webfoot had a torn ear, and the WindClan deputy Ashfoot was bleeding from one shoulder, but none of the wounds looked serious enough to stop the warriors from returning to the WindClan camp.
“I think we’re all fit to travel, thank StarClan,” Onestar answered the ThunderClan leader. “If you’re sure you don’t need our help any more, we’ll return to our own territory now.”
Crowfeather raised his head and shot one despairing glance at Leafpool. She scrambled to her paws, leaving Ashfur, and padded across to meet the WindClan warrior. They stood a little way from the other cats, their heads close together. Standing in the shadows, Brambleclaw couldn’t help overhearing, but he didn’t want to disturb them by moving.
“Goodbye, Crowfeather,” Leafpool murmured, sounding choked with pain. “We . . . we’d better not see each other again.”
Crowfeather’s eyes flashed, and for a heartbeat Brambleclaw thought he was going to protest. Then he shook his head. “You’re right,” he meowed. “It would never have worked. I will never mean enough to you.”
Leafpool sank her claws into the ground. “You mean more to me than you will ever know.”
The tip of Crowfeather’s black tail twitched. “You’re a medicine cat. I understand what that means now. StarClan go with you, Leafpool. I’ll never forget you.”
He and Leafpool touched noses, a delicate contact that lasted less than a heartbeat. Then Crowfeather turned back to his Clanmates. Leafpool watched him go, her eyes clouded with loss.
Webfoot gave Crowfeather a dark look, and Weaselfur pointedly turned his back on him, but Onestar said nothing, only gathering all his warriors together with a sweep of his tail before leading them out of the camp.
“Thank you again!” Firestar called after them. “May StarClan light your path.”
Leafpool stood motionless until Crowfeather’s grey-black figure had vanished into the shadow of the trees, then padded across the clearing towards Cinderpelt’s den. On the way she flicked her tail to summon Brightheart, who had helped Cinderpelt with medicine cat duties in the past.
“Are you sure?” Brightheart asked hesitantly.
“Of course I’m sure.” Leafpool’s voice was ragged with exhaustion and grief. “Every cat in the Clan is wounded. I’ll be glad of your skills.”
Brightheart’s eyes gleamed, and she seemed to shake off some of her own weariness as she followed Leafpool to the den.
“Is that Stormfur and Brook?”
Brambleclaw jumped as a hoarse voice spoke in his ear. Squirrelflight had appeared beside him. Her dark ginger fur was matted with blood and the tip of one ear was torn.
“Can’t you see that it is?” Brambleclaw replied, realising too late how abrupt he sounded. “Sorry—” he began.
Squirrelflight took a pace forward so that her pelt brushed his. She touched the tip of her tail to his mouth to silence him. “Stupid furball,” she whispered.
Brambleclaw tensed, wondering if he was imagining the affection in her green gaze. Glancing past her, he saw Ashfur glaring at him with narrowed eyes.
Squirrelflight didn’t notice Ashfur. She limped past Brambleclaw to touch noses with the visitors. “Thank StarClan you have come,” she meowed, echoing Brambleclaw’s thoughts. “We need all our friends right now.”
Brambleclaw felt his shoulders droop in exhaustion just thinking about how much had to be done. Injuries to treat, dens to rebuild, fresh-kill to gather . . . “We’ll speak to Firestar and then get started.”
As they approached the Clan leader, Thornclaw staggered up to them. Blood trickled from a deep gash above one eye. “Stormfur?” he muttered, shaking his head in confusion. “No, it can’t be.” The golden brown warrior slumped to the ground, where he lay panting.
Squirrelflight rested her tail on his shoulder, urging him to lie still until his injuries could be treated. Brambleclaw led Stormfur and Brook up to Firestar.
The Clan leader’s eyes stretched wide in surprise. “Stormfur . . . and Brook! What are you doing here?”
“There’ll be time to explain later,” Stormfur meowed. “For now, Firestar, put us to work.”
Firestar stared around the clearing as if he wasn’t sure where to start. “We should sort out the warriors’ den so the cats who have been hurt most can get some sleep . . . but we need to get the entrance barrier back in place, too.”
The whole camp was devastated, and few of the ThunderClan cats were in any shape to start rebuilding. Ashfur was slumped on the ground, bleeding from flank and foreleg, while Leafpool patted cobwebs onto his wounds. Cloudtail limped up to her, holding one forepaw off the ground; blood trickled from where a claw had been torn out. “Hi, Stormfur,” he mewed as he passed, as if this had been such an extraordinary night, the sight of an old friend was no longer a surprise. “Leafpool, can I have a piece of that cobweb?”
Sandstorm was close behind him, her head bent with exhaustion and her tail dragging in the dust. She stopped dead when she spotted Leafpool, then swung around to face Firestar, her green eyes questioning.
“Leafpool’s here?” she meowed. “What happened?”
Firestar shook his head to silence her. “We’ll talk to her later,” he promised. “For now, she’s home, and that’s all that matters.”
“Firestar!” A yowl came from across the clearing. “Firestar, have those crow-food eaters gone?”
Brambleclaw turned to see the three elders, Mousefur, Goldenflower, and Longtail. In the darkness they had to pick their way carefully down the tumble of rocks that led to the ledge where Firestar had his den. They had taken shelter there while the battle raged below. It was Mousefur who had called out; she had lost some fur from one shoulder, Longtail’s tail was bleeding, and Goldenflower had a deep scratch down one side. She was guiding Longtail with her tail across his shoulders.