Tigerclaw’s Fury

The wound in Tigerclaw’s belly pulsed with agony, and he felt warm, sticky blood pooling beneath his paws. His Clanmates’ furious words seemed to be coming from a long way off, as if he were underwater, cocooned in peaceful cold. You lost! screeched a voice inside his head. Beaten by kittypets and fools! Tigerclaw felt his lip curl up in a snarl. I lost this battle, he conceded silently. But for as long as there is blood in my veins, I will not give up.

“Tigerclaw,” Bluestar meowed, “have you anything to say in your defense?” The ThunderClan leader’s blue-gray fur was streaked with blood—Tigerclaw’s as well as her own—and her eyes were dull and unfocused. Tigerclaw felt a thrill of satisfaction that his actions, his careful plans, had left her shattered and flailing inside. He knew a broken cat when he saw one; this was the end of Bluestar’s leadership, even if he hadn’t managed to take her last lives. The thought numbed the pain in his belly and gave strength to his trembling legs.

“Defend myself to you, you gutless excuse for a warrior?” he hissed. “What sort of a leader are you? Keeping the peace with other Clans. Helping them! You barely punished Fireheart and Graystripe for feeding RiverClan, and you sent them to fetch WindClan home! I would have never shown such kittypet softness. I would have brought back the days of TigerClan. I would have made ThunderClan great!”

“And how many cats would have died for it?” Bluestar replied softly. She shook herself, then lifted her head. “If you have nothing else to say, then I sentence you to exile,” she declared. “You will leave ThunderClan territory now, and if any cat sees you here after sunrise tomorrow, they have my permission to kill you.”

“Kill me?” Tigerclaw echoed. “I’d like to see any of them try.”

“Fireheart beat you!” Graystripe yowled.

“Fireheart.” Tigerclaw slowly turned his head to look at the ginger kittypet. A warrior name will never make you forestborn, no matter what your Clanmates tell you! “Cross my path again, you stinking furball, and we’ll see who’s the stronger.”

Fireheart sprang up, tail lashing, even though one of his eyes was swollen shut from a blow from Tigerclaw’s paw. “Any time, Tigerclaw,” he spat.

“No!” Bluestar interrupted them. “No more fighting. Tigerclaw, leave my sight.”

Tigerclaw made himself stand up, in spite of the trembling that shook his paws. A fresh wave of blood oozed from his belly as the edges of the wound shifted. He heard gasps from the cats around him but ignored them. Pain is nothing! Defeat is nothing!

“Don’t think I’m finished,” he warned, staring at the battle-stunned faces around him. “I’ll be a leader yet. And any cat who comes with me will be well looked after.” He looked for his closest ally in ThunderClan, the cat who’d always told him that he should have been leader by now. “Darkstripe?”

The black-striped tabby stayed where he was, sitting among the warriors. “I trusted you, Tigerclaw,” he whimpered. “I thought you were the finest warrior in the forest. But you plotted with that… that tyrant.” Tigerclaw guessed he was speaking of Brokentail, the exiled ShadowClan leader who now lived in ThunderClan’s camp. “And you said nothing. And now you expect me to come with you?” He dropped his head, unable to meet Tigerclaw’s gaze.

Traitor! You dare to deny me in front of all these cats? You’ll pay for this with every hair on your pelt!

Tigerclaw forced his fur to stay flat. “I needed Brokentail’s help to make contact with the rogue cats. If you choose to take this personally, that’s your problem,” he sniffed. He looked at another cat who’d listened to his plans, promised to stand by him when he brought clear, strong leadership to their Clan. “Longtail?”

The pale tabby almost leaped out of his skin. “Come with you, Tigerclaw? Into exile?” He sounded horrified. “I—no, I can’t. I’m loyal to ThunderClan!”

You’re a pathetic coward, more like! Tigerclaw screeched silently. He scanned the ranks of cats, looking for a hint of understanding, a recognition that this weak and kittypet-favoring Clan was no place for a true warrior. “What about you, Dustpelt?” he growled. “You’ll have richer pickings with me than you ever will in ThunderClan.”

The young brown tabby got deliberately to his paws and picked his way through the surrounding cats until he stood in front of Tigerclaw. “I looked up to you,” he admitted. “I wanted to be like you. But Redtail was my mentor. I owe him more than any cat. And you killed him.” His eyes grew huge and he started to shake. “You killed him and betrayed the Clan. I’d rather die than follow you.”