Эрин Хантер – SUNSET (страница 4)

“Are you all right?” Brambleclaw asked, going to meet them.

“Fine,” Mousefur growled. “A badger tried to climb up to the Highledge, but we sent it back down the rocks faster than it intended.”

“What if they come back?” Goldenflower sounded distraught.

“They’d better not.” Longtail flexed his claws, and Brambleclaw saw dark tufts of badger fur caught in them. “I don’t need to see to fight badgers. I can find them by their disgusting scent.”

“Better let Leafpool look at those scratches,” Firestar meowed.

“Leafpool?” Mousefur’s voice was sharp as she swung around to stare at the medicine cat. “She’s back, is she? For good—or until that WindClan warrior starts sniffing around again?”

Brambleclaw bit back a sharp retort. He knew Mousefur sounded so harsh only because she was shocked and hurt.

“And who’s this?” Mousefur padded up to Stormfur and examined him with narrowed eyes. “Stormfur? What’s he doing here?”

“Just paying a visit.” Stormfur sounded uncomfortable at the brown elder’s suspicious tone.

Mousefur grunted, as if she wasn’t completely convinced that Stormfur was a friend. “You were a RiverClan warrior before you left us. Why are you here and not over there?”

“Mousefur, don’t be so ungrateful!” Squirrelflight meowed indignantly. “We need every cat who’s prepared to help. Besides, Stormfur is half ThunderClan, remember?” Stormfur’s father was Greystripe, the ThunderClan deputy who had been captured by Twolegs before the cats left the forest.

Mousefur bristled at Squirrelflight, but before she could reply she was interrupted by a cry from Ferncloud, racing through the broken thorns that were strewn across the entrance to the hollow. “Dustpelt, where are you?”

Brambleclaw bounded over to her as she stopped just inside the entrance, gazing around the dark camp and yowling her mate’s name.

“Brambleclaw, have you seen Dustpelt?” she demanded.

“No, not yet,” he admitted. “Come on, I’ll help you look.”

“I should have stayed with him!” Ferncloud wailed. “I never should have left the camp!”

“But Daisy needed you,” Brambleclaw reminded her. “She couldn’t have coped without a warrior to look after her, and it was much safer for you both to stay hidden outside the camp. Remember, Daisy hasn’t been in the Clan long, and she can’t fight well enough yet to defend herself and her kits.”

Ferncloud shook her head distractedly. “Dustpelt can’t be dead,” she mewed.

“We’ll find him,” Brambleclaw promised. Silently, he hoped StarClan had not chosen this warrior to join their ranks tonight. He began to search, padding back and forth among the scattered remains of the entrance barrier, gradually working his way back towards the centre of the camp. His breath caught in his throat when he picked up Dustpelt’s scent and almost stumbled over a heap of tabby fur lying in the shadow of the rock wall. Dustpelt’s eyes were closed, but as Brambleclaw stared at him his ears twitched and he let out a sneeze.

“Ferncloud—over here!” Brambleclaw called.

“Dustpelt! Dustpelt!”

At the sound of his mate’s voice Dustpelt opened his eyes and started to struggle to his paws. Ferncloud bounded up to him, brushing her pelt against his and covering him with licks. Dustpelt let out an unsteady purr.

Brambleclaw decided that if Dustpelt could stand up, he could wait a while before Cinderpelt or Leafpool saw him. He was heading back to the clearing, anxious to start work on the wrecked camp, when he saw that Birchpaw had followed Ferncloud into the hollow. The young apprentice had lost almost all the fur from his haunches, and one eye was closed. With his good eye he darted nervous glances from side to side, as if he still expected to see the camp full of invading badgers.

Behind him, Daisy, the cat from the horseplace, picked her way through the thorns with her three kits scrambling after her. They stared with huge eyes at the devastated dens and the weary, wounded cats. Spotting Midnight standing in the shadows, Berrykit drew back his lips in a snarl. He took a pace forward, his legs stiff and his fur bristling.

With a squeak of alarm, Daisy rushed to his side. “Berrykit! What are you doing? Come away before the badger hurts you.”

“Nothing to fear, small one,” Midnight rumbled gently.

Daisy just glared at her, sweeping her tail around Berrykit and drawing him away towards the other cats. Brambleclaw realised she had no idea who Midnight was.

“It’s all right!” he called.

Leafpool reached the horseplace cat before him. “Don’t worry, Daisy,” she meowed. “Midnight’s a friend. Crow feather and I met her when we were up in the hills. She warned us that her kin were going to attack, and she brought WindClan to help us.”

“But she’s a badger!” Daisy exclaimed.

Brambleclaw padded over to help Leafpool explain. “We met Midnight on our journey to the sun-drown-place. She wouldn’t harm us.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Berrykit assured his mother. “I’ll look after you.”

“I bet you would, too.” Cloudtail limped up and gently flicked Berrykit’s ear with the tip of his tail. “It takes enough courage for a full-grown cat to face up to a badger. You’ll make a great warrior one day.”

Berrykit’s tail went straight up with pride. “Race you to the nursery!” he yowled to his littermates.

“No—wait!” Cloudtail called after the three kits. “You can’t go in there yet.”

“Why not?” Daisy asked, puzzled. “My kits need to rest.”

“Cinderpelt’s body is in there,” Leafpool mewed quietly. “A badger broke in while she was helping Sorreltail give birth.” Her voice quavered and she swallowed hard. “I tried to save her, but she was already on her way to StarClan.”

Brambleclaw stared at her in disbelief.

Cinderpelt was dead?

Chapter 2

Brambleclaw felt as if every drop of his blood had turned to ice. It was bad enough that any warrior should have gone to join StarClan tonight, but losing the Clan’s medicine cat was a cruel blow. He suddenly realised why Leafpool had asked Brightheart to help her treat the injured warriors.

Mousefur let out a shocked yowl. “She was only a young cat! She had her whole life ahead of her.”

Squirrelflight padded up and brushed her muzzle against Leafpool’s shoulder. “We won’t forget her,” she murmured.

Brambleclaw nodded, too shocked to speak. Leafpool stood with head bowed for a heartbeat, then nudged Thornclaw to his paws. “Come to my den.” Her voice sounded thin, as if she was keeping it tightly under control. “I have more cobwebs there.” She padded away, glancing back just once to be sure Thornclaw was following.

Movement in the darkness at the edge of the hollow caught Brambleclaw’s eye, and he turned to see Spiderleg and Whitepaw heading slowly towards them. Spiderleg beckoned with his tail; Brambleclaw had to force his numbed legs into action.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Come and see.” Spiderleg led the way to the wall of the hollow, near the escape route where Daisy and her kits had climbed to safety. A limp bundle of grey-black fur lay in the shadows.

“It’s Sootfur,” Whitepaw whispered. “I think he’s dead.”

Brambleclaw’s belly twisted. Even though he was afraid that Whitepaw was right, he nosed the young warrior’s body in the faint hope of rousing him. Sootfur didn’t move, and his glazed eyes stared at nothing.

“May StarClan light his path,” Brambleclaw murmured. Sootfur’s sister, Sorreltail, had only just given birth; how would she cope with the loss of her brother?

Both the younger cats were staring at Brambleclaw as if they were waiting for him to tell them what to do. With a massive effort he forced himself to think.

“Carry him into the centre of the camp, so we can have a vigil,” he meowed. “I’ll go and look for Rainwhisker.” Sootfur’s brother would have to be told; perhaps he could help their sister, Sorreltail.

Brambleclaw waited until Spiderleg and Whitepaw had lifted Sootfur’s body, then began to search. He couldn’t remember seeing Rainwhisker since the end of the battle. Anxiety sank sharp claws into him; surely Rainwhisker couldn’t be dead too?

Then he spotted the grey warrior half buried under the torn-up thorn branches that had once sheltered the warriors’ den. He lay without moving, but as Brambleclaw dragged a branch off him he managed to lift his head.

“The badgers—have they gone?” he asked hoarsely.

“It’s all over,” Brambleclaw replied. “But I’m afraid there’s sad news. Can you get up?”

With a grunt, Rainwhisker brought his paws under him and scrabbled at the prickly twigs until he had hauled himself upright. He balanced precariously on three legs; the fourth hung at an awkward angle, and Brambleclaw was afraid it had been broken. Giving Rainwhisker his shoulder for support, he guided him towards the centre of the camp where Sootfur now lay. Firestar, Squirrelflight, and several other cats stood around him, their heads bowed.

Rainwhisker let out a yowl of dismay at the sight of his brother’s body. Limping forward, he bent his head to thrust his nose into the grey-black fur. He stayed still for a few heartbeats, then looked up, his eyes filled with grief.

“I should tell Sorreltail,” he meowed.

Firestar twitched his tail to stop him. “Your leg needs to be seen to first. Some other cat—”