Full of grief and rage, Hawkwing leaped at him. But Darktail slipped aside, and was lost to sight in the rain and the darkness.
Chapter 17
Hawkwing’s heart was beating hard, pounding loud in his ears in spite of the rain that thrummed against the ground with relentless strength. Everything seemed unreal, and as he flung himself back into the battle he felt as if each move was taking place in slow motion.
The powerful long-furred she-cat leaped toward him, and he felt as if he had all the time in the world to extend his claws and slice them through her black pelt into her shoulder. Another rogue attacked him from the side; Hawkwing automatically dodged his swipes and drove him off with two swift blows around his ears.
Hawkwing fought on with the battle moves ingrained in him through moons of SkyClan training, but he was barely aware of the strikes he delivered or the ones he received. All he could think of was the look of utter surprise on Sharpclaw’s face at the moment that Darktail struck him down. And Darktail had looked so cold and calculating.
I can’t believe I felt so close to that vile cat! I even thought he might help to make up for losing Duskpaw! But Darktail was never anything like my brother!
The storm raged on, matching the storm in Hawkwing’s heart.
Raindrops bounced off the ground, gathering in puddles that spread and flowed into one another. The ground was slippery, and it was hard to see through the sheets of driving rain.
Through the chaos, Hawkwing spotted Patchfoot close to the cliff wall, locked in combat with a skinny ginger rogue. He began splashing over there to help the elder. Patchfoot had reared on his hind paws, pinning the rogue against the rock face, but just as he was poised to strike, his hind paws slipped in the mud and he fell.
With a yowl of triumph the ginger rogue fell on him, biting and scratching. Patchfoot let out a choking gasp of pain.
Putting on a burst of speed, Hawkwing flung himself at the rogue and drove him back, landing a couple of blows on his hindquarters as the rogue turned and fled. Then he turned toward Patchfoot, only to realize with a fresh shock of grief that the old cat was dead, his limbs stretched out as rain flowed through his pelt.
Hawkwing let out a growl of pure fury. Close by he spotted Clovertail and Fallowfern fighting with two more of the rogues, and began to rush toward them. But before he reached them, he was distracted by a panic-stricken screech from the cliff above his head.
“Help us!”
Looking up through the rain, Hawkwing managed to make out a knot of cats fighting outside the nursery. He recognized M intfur and Birdwing, bravely holding their own but outnumbered by three rogues who were steadily driving them away from the nursery entrance.
They want to hurt the kits! Hawkwing realized. They’re striking at the heart of our Clan!
“I’m coming!” he yowled, launching himself up the trail.
As he drew closer, Hawkwing could hear the thin wails of M intfur’s four terrified young kits, and the stronger voices of Birdwing’s three, who were almost old enough to be apprenticed.
“We can fight!” Curlykit called out. “We’ll protect the young ones!”
“We’ll claw any rogue who comes in here!” Fidgetkit agreed, while Snipkit simply let out a threatening growl.
Hawkwing raced upward and realized after a few paces that another cat was following hard on his paws. Afraid that a rogue was chasing him, he paused to look back and saw that it was Pebblepaw. Her speckled fur was plastered to her body by the rain, but thankfulness surged through Hawkwing as he realized she was unhurt.
There was no time to talk. Hawkwing sped up the trail with Pebblepaw behind him, until they reached the ledge outside the nursery and fell on the rogues from behind.
Hawkwing swatted at the nearest attacker, a black-and-white tom, with both forepaws, pushing him off the ledge to fall shrieking into the gorge. Pebblepaw dug her claws into the hindquarters of a huge ginger tom and clung there as he twisted around, trying to get at her. Hawkwing slashed at his ears, and with a wail of fear the rogue tore himself away and fled up the trail to disappear over the cliff top. The third rogue was a gray she-cat; Hawkwing faced her, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a threatening snarl. He was aware of Pebblepaw at his side; faced with the two of them, the rogue backed away slowly, then suddenly turned tail and headed back down into the gorge.
“So much for them!” Pebblepaw panted, a note of triumph in her voice.
Hawkwing gave her an admiring glance. She’s so brave, he thought, reflecting on how well they fought together.
“Thank you!” Birdwing exclaimed. “We were so afraid for the kits.”
“We wouldn’t have let them in here.” Curlykit’s voice came from the mouth of the den. All three of Birdwing’s kits were crouched there, claws extended from their tiny paws, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.
“Well done; you’re very brave,” Hawkwing meowed. Turning to Pebblepaw, he added, “Stay here and help protect the nursery.”
He half expected Pebblepaw to argue, but she responded with a brisk nod. “You can count on me, Hawkwing.”
Satisfied that he had done the best he could for the two queens and their litters, Hawkwing headed down the trail again. At the foot he spotted Rileypaw and Bellapaw, struggling with two much bigger rogues. One of them had Rileypaw pinned down, and was about to sink his claws into the young tom’s throat.
Hawkwing leaped to the top of a boulder, just above Rileypaw and his attacker, and hurled himself onto the rogue’s shoulders, thrusting him away from his Clanmate. As soon as he was freed, Rileypaw scrambled to his paws and went to help Bellapaw.
Hawkwing cuffed the rogue around the ears until he stumbled away, squealing, then turned to see the two littermates driving off the second attacker.
“Thanks, Hawkwing,” Rileypaw gasped. “I thought I was dead for sure.”
“Are you both okay?” Hawkwing asked.
Though Bellapaw and Rileypaw both bore the marks of the rogues’ claws, they simply nodded. “Fine,” Bellapaw mewed.
“Then go and help the elders.” Hawkwing angled his ears toward Clovertail and Fallowfern, still locked in their struggle with the massive rogues. Clovertail looked to be at the end of her strength, but she was still striking out bravely.
The two young cats bounded off, and Hawkwing spotted Sandynose limping toward the foot of the cliff with Plumwillow, who was leaning on him heavily. Blood streamed from the gray she-cat’s shoulder.
“She’s hurt!” Sandynose gasped. “And she’s expecting kits.”
“I’m so slow,” Plumwillow confessed, breathing hard. “I’m off-balance somehow.”
For the first time Hawkwing noticed Plumwillow’s rounded belly. “Take her up to the nursery,” he meowed to Sandynose.
“You can help protect the kits.”
Sandynose nodded, looking relieved, and began guiding his mate up the trail.
Hawkwing’s whole body tensed with horror as he looked around the camp and realized how badly the battle was going for SkyClan. The bodies of his Clanmates were strewn on the ground between the cliff and the river; he couldn’t tell whether they were dead or only injured. Between the darkness and the storm, with every cat plastered in mud, it was becoming harder still to tell friend from foe.
“Retreat! SkyClan, retreat!”
Leafstar’s voice yowled out into the night; Hawkwing turned and saw her standing on top of the Rockpile. Her voice rang out once more; then she leaped down and vanished into the darkness.