Los Verion was still several days away. The minotaurs ran at great speed, tearing up the green meadows with their heavy hooves as white sweat formed across their black furry backs. They moved well despite their heavy muscles. Their stamina was unmatched throughout the land. Ranno had resumed his human from once they had reached flat land. As a nanomachine he could run even longer than the minotaurs.
Dawn passed without incident as they travelled along the valley floor but the weather quickly deteriorated. Black clouds swirled overhead while heavy rain lashed against their faces, driven by howling winds from the east. The storm finally broke as they emerged from muddy woodland, the clouds clearing to reveal a cold blue sky overhead.
It wasn't long before they reached Banderthal, a small human settlement with a single thoroughfare running through its centre. It was home to no more than a hundred residents living in small stone huts. The people were mostly farmers, caring for flocks of sheep and growing their own food off the land. Most were well into their middle years, the younger villagers having left the settlement in search of adventures elsewhere. Those who had found adventure would be long dead by now. The lucky ones had returned with their hopes dashed, resigned to rearing sheep for the rest of their life. They clung to their familiar environment, trying to forget what had happened to them in the madness of the world outside.
This close to Thunder Mountain they enjoyed a protection of a kind, living in the shadow of the minotaurs. The lords stayed away for the most part, and if any clerics strayed this far east the minotaurs would hack them down with long steel-bladed halberds.
The elders gathered on the edge of the village to greet the minotaurs as they arrived. Five old men walked towards them but four stayed back while the tallest approached with a warm well-practised smile.
'Welcome, minotaurs. Take rest and sustenance before your ongoing journey.'
The minotaurs panted, breathing heavily through their long black snouts. Kuerolong walked straight past the man and began scraping great swathes of thick white sweat from his hide with a piece of wood that was gently curved on one side. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the sweat onto the ground beside him. The other minotaurs followed suit, leaving Ranno to face the villagers alone.
'Welcome, guardian,' the man said. 'My name is Jinga.'
'Are you the Mayor of Banderthal?' Ranno said.
'I am. These are my head councillors,' he said, gesturing to the others behind him. 'You'll find food and supplies in the huts to your left.'
'I don't eat.'
Jinga offered a half-smile. 'For the minotaurs, I meant.'
'How many able-bodied men are there among you?'
'Why?' Jinga said, tilting his bald head to one side.
'A sky lord has come. We must support her.'
'All our men are required to herd the livestock and man the fields.'
'Do you refuse to help?'
'It's not a questions of refusing. If we sent our young men and women with every travelling party that passed through there would be no one here but ourselves. Who would care for the animals then? Our sheep would die and our fields return to wasteland. There would be nobody here to provide sustenance to weary travellers. You and your companions would have to travel many kilometres to the next settlement.'
Ranno folded his arms. Jinga seemed to have put a lot of thought into his answer. He had the look of a man who had spoken the same words many times before. Perhaps it was true what he said. They were unlikely to be the only travelling party passing through Jinga's settlement this year. Everybody needed a workforce. Every cause could benefit from able-bodied men.
'Is there a problem?' Kuerolong said in a deep, breathless voice as he strode back towards them.
Jinga backed away. 'No problem, my King.'
'He refuses to help the sky lord,' Ranno said.
Kuerolong snorted. 'Did you expect anything else? Sky lords are not welcome amongst the people.'
'They bring trouble,' Jinga said.
Ranno shook his head. 'They bring hope and salvation.'
'War follows the lords like flies around a corpse.'
Ranno turned to Kuerolong with disbelief upon his face. No one would have spoken that way a century ago. The people had grown slow and complacent in his absence. They took their freedom for granted, pushing Megarothia's troubles far from their minds.
'War will come to those who avoid it,' Ranno said.
Kuerolong laughed in a deep, hearty voice. 'You waste your time with this one, Ranno. He has no interest in conflict. He beds down with his sheep at night.'
Jinga's mouth formed a straight line, a deep furrow forming across his forehead. He was insulted but he had enough sense not to argue with the King. Turning, he strode back to the others and after a brief discussion they disappeared into one of the larger huts nearby.
The minotaurs gulped down water from large metal cups, dipping them into a dirty-looking trough that ran around the outside of a small white stone hut. Kuerolong did likewise before ducking his head to step inside. When he returned he had a chunk of raw meat in his hand. He began to tear into it with his teeth as blood dripped from the side of his mouth. The others joined him, eating raw mutton by the fist full until their breathing had slowed and their shiny black eyes had become less agitated.
Ranno watched with his hands by his sides. He didn't need food or water. His body was powered by a very different kind of energy. He fed on the vibrations of the atoms in the air and rocks around him. Everything was energy. The whole world was a vessel that could be fed on and absorbed.
'We will go on,' Kuerolong said, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
Ranno nodded. When the minotaurs set off at a run, he followed close behind them, leaving Banderthal and its peace-loving shepherds behind them. He glanced over his shoulder as they left the settlement. Jinga and the elders stood in a close group, watching them depart. The look of relief in their eyes was unmistakable.