The Secrets of Serised

“It’s delightful,” said one of the nomads, “to have unexpected company. Few in your villages trust us completely; they suspect dark magic in that we travel safely through the wooded terrain of your countryside.” He was a portly bearded man whose level of kindness was matched only by the size of his belly, which he patted absentmindedly as he spoke.
“Are you fearful of traveling here, though, sir?” asked Thaladria, matching his enthusiasm and managing to keep the warning tone in her voice from sounding hostile. “We have seen many strange things in these forests, not all of which are friendly.”
“Aye,” came a voice from behind her, and they all turned as a kind-faced woman approached, a teetering tray balanced on one arm and an infant squalling in the other, which held a pitcher as well. The woman came and stood beside the man, whom had introduced himself as Warren, placing the tray before the children as she reached up to give him a loving peck on the cheek. She matched his height, and her rotund nature was not unpleasant. It gave her a rather matriarchal look. She bounced the infant up and down on her hip, trying to quell his screams as she continued.
“We have ourselves seen a number of strange things. Not the least of which,” she added with a large smile, “is yourself, young Tehporp.”
“Indeed!” cried the man with a jolly cheer. “You are the first of your kind that I have seen with more than a fleeting glimpse. It is quite an honor to meet you.” He then wrapped one large arm around the woman and squeezed her and the child close. “And this is my wife, Laurine, and my youngest son, Ethan. We are all honored to make your acquaintance.”
Thaladria smiled and nodded her thanks. Then she looked at the woman and held out her hands. “May I?” she inquired gently.
“Oh, by all means,” said Laurine, handing over the pudgy-faced infant with a look of relief evident on her face. “I’ve got three more of the squirming rascals running around, and I would love to get my hands on them. They wander off, see, and I don’t like ’em getting too far from the wagons.” She hurried off then, leaving Warren to entertain their guests as she bustled about, grabbing her charges as they darted out from between the wagons amid a wave of other small children. Lily laughed, enjoying the sight of young people running around, carefree and not yet fettered by the harsh truths of the world. In her village, there had been few younger than Duncan, who was sixteen. Most of the villagers were too old to have children, and those who weren’t feared mixing bloodlines too often. It had been, she decided, a dying village. Everyone unwilling to leave, and few to carry on the traditions to the next generation. Though a warm feeling eminated from the traders’ camp, the thoughts of Duncan and her village left her cold inside, and she shuddered as she clasped her wooden cup of ale, wondering how he fared.
To clear her mind, she focused her attention on her comrades. Julian had remained quiet and sullen since reaching the camp, lost in his own thoughts, so Lily didn’t bother him. Xander seemed relieved and gladdened by the traders. He was turned on his stump, speaking in animated tones to a boy about their age, maybe seventeen or eighteen, who had appeared from one of the wagons. Thaladria had become entranced by the infant in her arms, cooing softly to him as his chubby fingers explored first her fiery hair, then her fur-covered ears. She laughed aloud as he wrenched her head at an uncomfortable angle, and Lily reached out to unclasp his tiny fistful of hair so that the other girl could move again. Thaladria took it as a signal that Lily wished to hold the child, so she handed Ethan over and took out her flute. Drooling slightly in his happiness, the child clapped and squealed with glee at the new, exotic sounds that she produced. Lily smiled. It was a nice feeling, holding the baby.
“Ah,” said Warren with a cheerful grin and another pat on his generous torso, “ready at last!”
Several traders laid before their guests a wide array of dishes, including steaming fowl of a variety of shapes, warm bread loaves, cheese, wine, milk, butter, potatoes, stew, and a variety of more exotic foods that looked and smelled delicious. The seemingly wild pack of children that had been trying desperately to evade Laurine’s grasp now came rocketing around the corner of one of the wagons, jumping at the food as their mother screamed helplessly, “Manners, children! Manners!” They settled down around the visitors, gawking openly at Thaladria and at Julian, who had an uncomfortable look on his face as one of the children, a girl, pressed herself up against him and smiled warmly. He tried to scoot farther down the bench he was on, but he bumped into Lily, who, seeing his predicament, grinned widely.
“I see you’re making friends, then, Julian?” She and the others laughed, but Julian remained stone-faced.
“Loft a toof!” said the girl brightly, pointing at the hole in her smile and drawing herself up proudly. Her lips and nose were covered in a thin layer of white powder, evidence of the cake she had spent the last hour trying to find and eat in secret.
“Good for you,” said Julian uncertainly, looking around for an escape route. There was none.
“My brofer loft free of ’em, but I’ll catch up!” When Julian said nothing, she stood up on the bench, her full height reaching just about as high as Julian’s head when sitting. She cupped a hand around his ear and whispered conspiratorially.
“I’m older ’an him, but he only loft ’em ’cause I knocked two of ’em out!” she confided with glee.
“Not true!” shouted a boy next to her, and they began pushing each other back and forth, knocking Julian around as he tried to eat.
“Children!” tried Laurine again, a note of resignation in her voice.
After eating, the girls helped Laurine clear the plates and platters as some of the men broke down the table, loading it back into the cart. Warren stood before Julian and Xander, both hands on his round belly, nodding and clucking his tongue as he looked around.
“Well, I guess that’ll be that, then, eh?”
“Indeed,” said Xander, speaking for all of them. “Thank you so much for your hospitality and for selling us these fine horses and supplies. We are much in your debt.”
“Jes doin’ my job, boy, doin’ my job. No need to thank me, although it has been a pleasure. Glad that at least once in your life, you got to try some of me wife’s cookin’.” He held out one of his arms, offering it to Xander, who shook it firmly. The girls returned with Laurine, who gave each of the four a fierce hug before waving them off. As she hugged Julian, who accepted awkwardly, the pudgy-faced child squeaked and grabbed his ear, yanking as he chortled with delight. The others laughed heartily, and then the two groups parted ways. The traders were making their way to Des Ruc, and the children had no desire to turn back that way. Instead, they continued their trek south, with fresh horses and a load of new tack, food, and tools. Lily had even replenished her quiver, and each had come away with several new sets of clothes, compliments of Warren. He insisted that they take them, saying that anyone who flattered him as much as they had deserved something back.
At long last, and not soon enough as far as Julian was concerned, they broke through the tree line and into the sun. They had reached the plains of Eci Fircas.