Outcast (21 page)

“What do you think?” Hollypaw whispered as the argument rumbled on above their heads.

“Brambleclaw's right,” Lionpaw asserted without hesitation. “What choice do they have?”

“But then, Crag's right, too.” Hollypaw sounded uncertain. “How would we like it if cats came into our territory and started telling us to do everything differently?”

“We're not starving to death,” Lionpaw pointed out. “What's the matter, Hollypaw? On the way here you were planning how to organize the Tribe like a Clan.”

“I know. But it's different when you see how they do things.” Hollypaw's worry soaked into Jaypaw's fur like rain. “What about you, Jaypaw?” she prompted. “Do you think the Tribe should give up all its traditions because of these trespassing cats?”

Jaypaw shrugged. “It's not our decision. They're not our traditions.”

He heard a hiss of annoyance from Hollypaw, as if she'd expected him to back her up. But the problem was more complicated than she or Lionpaw understood. Jaypaw was reluctant to talk about his dream. He had always relished the extra knowledge he gained through his connection with StarClan, but now he was thoroughly unnerved, knowing that the Tribe of Endless Hunting did not want the Tribe to become a Clan.

He remembered the feelings of shame he had picked up by the pool, the regret of the Tribe of Endless Hunting that they had failed their descendants, that they had not found a place of safety for the cats who looked to them for protection. He remembered their belief that the mountains had betrayed them.

Then something struck him. If the Tribe had tried to find a place of safety in the mountains, that meant they must have come from somewhere else—somewhere that was no longer safe.

So where did they come from
?
And what brought them here in the first place?

Lionpaw watched as the Tribe cats
broke up into small, quarrelsome groups.

They might as well save their breath
, he thought.
Stoneteller has made up his mind, and now Brambleclaw's in charge
.

Even so, he was impressed by Crag's courage in speaking up and glad of the respect he could see between the cave-guard and his father. Crag was a strong, brave cat, and with the right training he would make a great warrior.

“At least we haven't come all this way for nothing,” Breezepaw remarked, strolling over. “We'll soon lick this lot into shape. We might as well start calling them MountainClan right now.”

“Say that in the hearing of a Tribe cat, and you'll be looking for your ears,” Hollypaw hissed.

“Ignore him,” Lionpaw told her. “If he wants to be stupid—”

He broke off as he saw Brambleclaw padding toward them. “I've got a job for you,” the dark tabby meowed.

Lionpaw sprang to his paws, his tail straight up in the air. Action at last!

“Do you think you three could train the to-bes in some fighting moves?” Brambleclaw asked.

Lionpaw started a little as he realized that “you three” included Breezepaw and not Jaypaw. The three apprentices glanced at one another, the argument with Breezepaw forgotten.

“Sure.” Lionpaw nodded. “We'll be glad to help.”

He touched his tail tip to Jaypaw's shoulder in farewell as he followed his father across to the to-bes' part of the cave. Jaypaw didn't seem to notice; he was staring at the wall of the cave, lost in thought.

“Every cat, even the prey-hunters, will be trained in basic fighting,” Brambleclaw explained. “But we'll give the cave-guards the responsibility of border patrols. They're the strongest cats, and they have some fighting techniques, though they still need battle training.”

“There aren't any borders yet,” Hollypaw pointed out.

Brambleclaw gave her a friendly flick on the ear with his tail. “There will be soon.”

The to-bes were gathered in a tight cluster in their own part of the cave. They all turned to look at Brambleclaw and the apprentices as they approached.

“Greetings,” Pebble meowed, dipping her head to Brambleclaw and extending a paw.

“Greetings,” Brambleclaw replied. “I think you've met Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and Breezepaw. They're going to give you some training in fighting techniques.”

To Lionpaw's dismay, none of the to-bes looked pleased at
the prospect. They muttered together; Lionpaw caught the words “…only to-bes like us.”

“Splash and I are prey-hunters.” Screech spoke up boldly, flicking his tail at the light brown tabby she-cat beside him. “We don't do that stuff.”

“The whole Tribe will be doing ‘that stuff,'” Brambleclaw told him.

“It's for your own good,” Lionpaw added.

Screech glared at him.

“Come on,” Hollypaw mewed persuasively. “It'll be fun. And if the intruders attack you, you'll need to defend yourselves.”

To Lionpaw's relief, he saw that Pebble and one or two others were looking interested. His paws tingled with anticipation. This would be good practice for when he was a mentor with an apprentice of his own.

Brambleclaw gave an approving nod. “I'll leave you to it, then. Tawnypelt, Crowfeather, and I are going to explore the territory and see if we can set the borders.” He turned away, then glanced over his shoulder. “Lionpaw, would you like to come with us? Hollypaw and Breezepaw can handle the training for now.”

For a heartbeat Lionpaw felt disappointed. Then he reminded himself that he had wanted to explore the world beyond the lake, and here was a chance to see more of it. “Okay,” he mewed, waving his tail in farewell to the others and following Brambleclaw to the cavern entrance.

Tawnypelt and Crowfeather were waiting there, with Talon, Bird, and Gray.

“We'll come with you,” Talon meowed. “You might need backup if the trespassers are around.”

“Thank you.” Brambleclaw gestured with his tail to let the big cave-guard take the lead.

Lionpaw fell in behind his father to walk the Path of Rushing Water behind the waterfall. With sunlight dazzling through the sheet of foaming water, it didn't seem as frightening as in twilight the night before. When he emerged into the open he leaped down onto the ground beside the pool and shook drops of water from his pelt. The sky was blue, with a few white clouds scudding across it, driven by a stiff breeze. The sun was just grazing the topmost peaks, bathing the mountain slopes in light. High up, a single bird flew in lazy circles.

“Eagle,” Bird murmured. “We'll need to keep an eye on it.”

“This way,” Talon mewed. He bounded over to the rocks opposite the pool and clawed his way up until he stood on a flat overhang of stone. Lionpaw and the other cats followed. Lionpaw stood panting on the edge and looked out across an empty forest of jutting rock. Only a few clumps of green foliage here and there interrupted the vast gray-brown landscape. There was no sign of movement.

“It's empty.” He crouched to peer down at the rocks below the overhang. “It feels like there's no cat here but us.”

“Don't you believe it,” Talon growled, padding up behind him. “The trespassers aren't as good at hiding as we are, but they're getting better at it all the time.”

“So you'll have to get better still,” Brambleclaw mewed
briskly. “Then you can fight back.”

Talon gave a doubtful snort and began climbing a steep slope of scree that led to a ridge. When Lionpaw set paw on the shifting stones he thought he would never be able to climb it. For every paw step he took, he felt as if he was slipping back two. He watched the Tribe cats setting their paws sideways on the slope and gradually began to make better progress. At last he was able to haul himself up the last tail-length and stand on the top.

Wind buffeted his pelt and made his eyes water. Blinking, he made out an even wider landscape of jutting crags and narrow valleys, with streams that looked narrow as grass stems weaving their way among the rocks. Far away he could see a blur of green, and he realized that he was looking at the edge of the mountains, perhaps the forest they had crossed on their way.

“I feel like a bird!” he cried.

The words were hardly out of his mouth before he felt his paws slipping. For a heart-stopping moment he thought the wind would bowl him over to plummet down to the rocks below. The landscape whirled sickeningly around him. Then teeth fastened in his scruff and yanked him back to safety. He looked up to see Crowfeather.

“Thanks,” he gasped.

“Just remember you're not a bird,” the WindClan cat growled.

Lionpaw sat down for a few heartbeats until the dizziness passed and his heart stopped pounding. When he looked up,
he saw Talon, Tawnypelt, and Brambleclaw standing a few paw steps away. The Tribe cat waved his tail to point at something below the ridge.

“That's where Stormfur led us into battle,” he meowed.

More cautiously this time, Lionpaw padded up to the edge and peered over. The ground fell away into a steep valley, with jagged rocks on either side. At the bottom a narrow stream wound its way among boulders. He shivered, imagining that he could see the slopes running with the blood of cats and hear their screeches as they hurled themselves into the fight.

“We don't go that way anymore,” Talon continued. “The intruders think it belongs to them now.”

“Maybe we need to teach them they're wrong,” Tawnypelt suggested with a lash of her tail.

Talon shook his head. “It's not worth it. We never found much prey there. If we go a bit farther along this ridge, we come to another valley with a stream. There's grass growing there and a few bushes, and you can generally pick up a mouse or two, or even a rabbit if you're lucky. We get moss for bedding from there, too.”

Lionpaw looked in the direction he pointed. A few fox-lengths farther along the ridge there was a twisted spike of stone like a lightning-blasted tree. “That would make a good border marker,” he suggested to Brambleclaw.

Brambleclaw nodded. “Good thinking. And the valley with the stream should be part of the Tribe's territory.”

The Tribe cats made no comment, though they exchanged
doubtful glances. With a flash of sympathy Lionpaw guessed that they might feel they were losing their territory anyway, to the Clan cats who were telling them what to do.

“Can you take us there, Talon?” Brambleclaw asked.

“Sure.” The big cave-guard set out along the ridge and Lionpaw followed with the other Clan cats, being very careful where he put his paws. The eagle, he was relieved to see, had disappeared.

The next valley, when they came to it, looked more inviting for hunting, with plenty of cover for prey. Talon would have turned down into it, but Brambleclaw urged them on, following the top of the ridge.

“We need to walk all the way around the border,” he meowed, “or at least where we think the border might be.”

“What?” Bird looked startled. “We can't possibly go all that way in a single day.”

“It takes longer here, you know,” Gray added. “It's not like traveling on flat ground.”

“I know that,” Brambleclaw responded, understanding in his amber eyes. “But time isn't on your side. The intruders aren't going to wait for you.”

Talon let out a low growl. “You're right. Let's get going.”

He led the group of cats along the top of the valley, taking in the spike of stone as a border marker. The ridge dipped at the point where it crossed the head of the valley, where the stream poured out from a cleft between two rocks.

“This is another good place for a marker,” Brambleclaw explained. “Once the border is decided, you'll need to place
scent markers every day, and it's best to choose places that are easy to remember.”

Talon nodded, but Lionpaw thought he still didn't look convinced that marking the territory was what the Tribe wanted to do.

From here their route lay across a plateau covered by loose, sharp stones, then over several steep ridges where there were no paths to guide them. The sun climbed high in the sky. Lionpaw's legs ached, and he lost count of the number of times he scraped his pads on rough stone. He left smudges of blood behind him as he walked. Even the Tribe cats began to look exhausted.

Brambleclaw halted abruptly as he rounded a huge boulder and Lionpaw almost crashed into him. The dark tabby's fur was bristling and Lionpaw picked up the scent of anger. Alert for danger, he stretched up to look over his father's shoulder.

He was overlooking a hollow with a pool at the bottom and a few straggly bushes. Three cats were just emerging from the shelter of the branches; the first one had a mouse dangling from his jaws. All three of them paused and looked up curiously.

“What's going on?” a black tom asked. “What do you want?”

“We could ask you the same question,” Brambleclaw replied, taking a few paces forward to stand on the lip of the hollow.

Talon stalked up to stand beside him, and Tawnypelt joined him on the other side. Lionpaw noticed Bird and Gray
taking up positions where they could spot any other intruders approaching, while Crowfeather skirted the top of the hollow until he could keep watch on the bushes from the other side.

The black tom who had spoken narrowed his eyes. “If you're looking for a fight, you can have one.”

“We're not looking for a fight.” Brambleclaw's voice was calm, though Lionpaw saw his neck fur still fluffed out and knew he was poised to launch himself into battle if he had to. “We're setting boundaries. This will be the Tribe's territory, but you and your friends can have the rest of the mountains. When we've finished, it will be clear which parts are which.”

Lionpaw thought that sounded fair, but the trespassers obviously didn't agree. The third of the party, a pale gray she-cat, looked up at Brambleclaw with cold blue eyes. “Who are you to tell us where we can't go?” she asked scornfully. “We have a right to hunt where we like.”

“This is our place,” Talon growled.

“Then stop us,” the she-cat challenged him. “You haven't managed it so far.”

“And your borders won't stop us, either,” the black tom added.

Talon's tail lashed and he crouched down, ready to spring. Across the hollow, Crowfeather let out an earsplitting yowl. The three intruders drew closer together, their claws out and their ears flattened.

“Stop!” Brambleclaw raised his tail. “There'll be no blood shed today. Go back to your leader, if you have one,” he told
the trespassing cats. “Tell all your cats that the borders will be in place from tomorrow and must not be crossed.” He stepped back from the edge of the hollow and gestured to Talon with his tail. “Let them go.”

The big cave-guard let out a snarl as the intruders stalked past him, but he didn't lift a paw to stop them. “Next time you won't be so lucky,” he spat.

The only reply was an insolent tail wave from the gray she-cat as the intruders disappeared between two boulders. Tawnypelt bounded after them, halting at the spot where they had vanished.

“They've gone,” she reported after a few heartbeats.

But they'll be back
. Lionpaw didn't speak the thought aloud, but he guessed that every cat there shared it.

“What's the point of all this?” Gray asked despondently. “Those cats will never respect our borders.”

“We might as well go back to the cave,” Bird agreed.

“No, you mustn't give up,” Brambleclaw urged them. “Once the borders are in place, you can keep reinforcing the scent markers until the trespassers finally get the message.”

Lionpaw wasn't sure his father was right. Surely borders depended on agreement from both sides? And if one side didn't agree, the scent markers had to be backed up by teeth and claws. Were the Tribe cats capable of fighting to protect their territory?