"Dig... tunnels," the clever Black Mole answered.
Annan didn't believe it. He felt he was close to discovering why the Stuen Ratfolk were in the Broken Mountains.
He took his time and asked the Black Mole whether this was Ratfolk territory.
The Black Mole said it was, but it would let Annan and the others stay as long as they didn't go too deep.
"Can I go down there?"
"You won't fit."
Annan was about to say he could turn into a rat and follow it when a growling stomach interrupted him.
Seeing how hungry and cold the Freemen were, Annan decided to feed them first.
"Would you like something to eat?"
Annan extended the invitation to the Black Mole as well.
"Food? I want some!"
The Black Mole's eyes lit up, but the Freemen couldn't accept it.
"Lord Annan, it killed one of our men!" someone shouted indignantly. Wilson was too late to stop him.
Three Freemen had been sent to inspect the depths of the Mine Tunnel. Only one had returned, with at least five pounds of flesh gnawed off him.
Annan fell silent for a moment, then lowered his gaze and asked the Black Mole, "Who did it?"
The Black Mole immediately pointed at the Brownfur Rat surrounded by the Rat Tide.
"It has to die," Annan said firmly.
A competent lord would have used his subordinate's death to gain an advantage. Fortunately, Annan had never thought himself particularly competent.
Annan was prepared for a disagreement with them. If it came to that, he would fight. As long as he killed every Ratfolk present, he and the Stuen Clan would remain "partners with a solid foundation for cooperation."
To his surprise, the Black Mole merely looked up, scolded the Brownfur Rat in rapid, shrill Ratfolk Language, and