The party emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of a great brush-grown mound. Slun took the lead, rounded the flank of the hillock, halted at a rectangular opening cut into the slope.
"You can find your way easily enough from here," he said. "You'll excuse us, I hope—"
"Nonsense, Slun!" Zubb pushed forward. "I'll escort our guests to Qornt Hall." He twittered briefly to his fellow Verpp. Slun twittered back.
"I don't like it, Retief," Magnan whispered. "Those fellows are plotting mischief."
"Threaten them with violence, Mr Magnan. They're scared of you."
"That's true. And the drubbing they received was well-deserved. I'm a patient man, but there are occasions—"
"Come along, please," Zubb called. "Another ten minutes' walk—"
"See here, we have no interest in investigating this barrow," Magnan announced. "We wish you to take us direct to Tarroon to interview your military leaders regarding the ultimatum!"
"Yes, yes, of course. Qornt Hall lies here inside the village."
"This is Tarroon?"