The Forgotten Warrior

Ferncloud looked slightly surprised at the medicine cat’s tone, but she did as he told her and let the fennel juice trickle between Sorreltail’s jaws.

When Dovewing had chewed up the chervil root, Brackenfur urged Sorreltail to eat the pulp, but the tortoiseshell she-cat was in so much pain that she could hardly get it down between her gasps of distress.

“Oh, it hurts so much!” she wailed. “Leafpool! Leafpool!”

Dovewing felt her pelt tingle. Did Sorreltail know she was calling for the wrong medicine cat? Then she noticed that Leafpool had appeared at the edge of the little group. She was blinking uncertainly, looking as if she didn’t know if she was allowed to do anything more than watch.

“I’m here,” Leafpool murmured. She settled down beside Sorreltail, but keeping out of Jayfeather’s way. “Don’t be afraid, Sorreltail. Jayfeather knows what to do.”

“Is there something wrong?” Brackenfur hissed to Jayfeather. “Shouldn’t the kits be here by now?”

“Kits take their own time,” Jayfeather responded, though Dovewing thought that there was worry in his eyes. It was clear that Sorreltail was growing weaker with every spasm.

“Stupid furball,” Brackenfur purred to his mate. “What were you thinking of, leaving the camp like that?”

“I needed air,” Sorreltail replied, her words coming in short puffs. “I wasn’t expecting the kits to come yet, and I thought it would be cooler by the lake…”

“Never frighten me like that again,” Brackenfur meowed. “Stay where you’re told next time!”

Sorreltail flinched as another spasm racked her body. “There won’t be a next time!” she spat through gritted teeth.

Spotting a stick in the middle of the clump of ferns, Dove-wing pulled it out and took it to Sorreltail. “Bite down on this,” she suggested. “It should help when the pain comes.”

“Thanks, Dovewing,” Sorreltail meowed, gripping the stick in her jaws.

Dovewing saw Jayfeather giving her a nod of approval. At last I’ve done something right!

Then Sorreltail gave a massive heave. Her jaws clamped down on the stick until it began to splinter. In a rush, a small wet bundle slipped out from under her tail and lay motionless on the grass.

“Well done!” Ferncloud cried. “There’s your first kit, Sorreltail. It’s a little she-cat.”

“She’s wonderful!” Brackenfur purred, nudging the tiny kit toward her mother.

Sorreltail turned her head to look and licked feebly at the small body, only to break off a moment later as her belly convulsed again and the second kit—another tiny she-cat—was born.

Dovewing couldn’t share Brackenfur and Ferncloud’s delight. Both the kits were very small, and looked weak; they were hardly moving, and Sorreltail was too exhausted to give them the vigorous licking they needed.

Jayfeather was examining Sorreltail, carefully patting her belly with one forepaw. “You’re done,” he announced. “Let’s get you and the kits back to camp.”

Brackenfur nudged Sorreltail to her paws and let her lean on his shoulder. Brambleclaw came to support her on her other side.

“What about my kits?” she whimpered, her eyes wide with distress.

“They’ll be fine,” Ferncloud promised. “Dovewing and I will bring them.”

She picked up one kit, and Dovewing took the other. As she lifted the tiny cat from the ground, the kit let out a feeble squeak, then hung as limp as a piece of fresh-kill. The weight was less than a sparrow in Dovewing’s mouth.

Thornclaw took the lead, still keeping watch for foxes, while Sorreltail staggered along between the two toms. Leafpool hovered at her side, and Jayfeather brought up the rear with Dustpelt.

The sky was growing pale with dawn by the time they reached the camp. The Clan was beginning to stir: Brightheart was near the entrance to the tunnel, talking to Cloudtail, and she followed Sorreltail and the others across to the nursery.

“Everything’s ready for you,” she told Sorreltail.

As Brackenfur and Brambleclaw supported the queen into the nursery, Daisy got up from a nest of thick moss and bracken. “Here,” she mewed to Sorreltail, touching noses with her. “I’ve made the nest warm for you. Lie down and rest.”

“Thanks, Daisy.” Sorreltail’s voice was an exhausted murmur.

Once Sorreltail was settled, Dovewing and Ferncloud set the two kits down in the curve of her belly. Ferncloud and Daisy began to lick them with strong, rhythmic tongue-strokes, until they started to wriggle and let out tiny squeals of hunger. They huddled close to their mother and began to suck.

Dovewing let out a faint sigh of relief. Maybe they’ll be okay. “I’m worn out after all that!” she told Jayfeather. “You should get some rest, too.”

Jayfeather shook his head. “I need to stay here and keep an eye on Sorreltail and the kits.”

“No, you don’t.” Brightheart padded up to his side. “I’ll stay. I know enough to tell if I should wake you.”

Jayfeather hesitated for a moment, then dipped his head. “Okay. Thanks, Brightheart.”