Episode 38: Shepherdess of the Moonlit River
An unexpected visitor appears at camp, though what she wants is hard to say…
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The night had fallen thickly, with all the heaviness of a dark, velvet blanket. Shadow lay about the land, occluding all the life that had sung so loudly by the light of the sun. The paths traveled by wild, hoofed beasts were still and silent, and the birds of the forest had found their high roosts in the fastness of treetops, and now slept. There was a certain privacy to the darkness of that night, a peacefulness and reservation which permeated the land.
Elissa and her entourage had paused in their transit of the Green Country to make camp for the night near a wide river. The watercourse was named Soliera, after the immense body of water which fed its headwaters, Lake Soliere. The night air was pleasant and mildly cool, so the fire Gwarth had started served mainly to provide illumination and a means for cooking their supper.
Once more, they had entered a stretch of their journey that took them through a less-inhabited, wilder area of the country. The land here was rugged and rocky, with steep hills and plateaus rising above them. Their day’s travels had taken them along an overgrown wagon trail that wound its way along a natural valley between these high places.
The Queen and her compatriots sat relaxing around the campfire, tired from the day, though satiated by the meal of mushroom soup that Negywn had prepared. They had found a circle of stones and the remnants of a firepit - it seemed this spot saw regular use from folk traveling through the area. The horses dozed, having drunk deep of the river’s cool waters, with bellies full of fresh oats. All was quiet, save for the cracking of the fire, and the little tune that warbled up from Necher’s wooden flute. He often played upon it during those quiet times of the night. It had become a welcome point of reflection for them all, and though the songs were nameless to all but Necher, some they came to recognize.
A slight breeze blew, and a silvery rustling rose through the trees near to their camp, seeming to swell with Necher’s playing. Barely audible was the sound of the wide river, flowing slowly, indomitable, oblivious to the etiquette of night and day, which so many other things obeyed. Inaudible was the sound of a not-so-distant waterfall, high and mighty, hurling down its torrent, as it had for long ages. Though, if one sat in stillness and listened with their bones, they might sense a gentle rumble that told of its power.
It was within this canvas of stillness that a visitor made themselves known, stepping carefully into the ring of firelight that shone around the travelers. It was Negwyn who spotted the woman first, and snapped from her reclining posture into readiness. Her reaction was such that Elissa, Necher, Durkey, and Gwarth too quickly looked in the same direction, and beheld a stranger, standing at the edge of the light.
She was tall and slightly damp, though this did not seem out of place, as her skin was a mottled green like that of a sunfrog or silty salamander. Her minimal garments were finely wrought from copper and their luster glowed with the reflected firelight. She stepped forward, her webbed foot moving cautiously further into the light. Elissa and her companions could now see a tail, long, and with a ribbonlike fan that spanned its length. The serpentine appendage twitched nervously as she again stepped closer.
From her appearance, it seemed she was as comfortable walking on earth and grass, as she did now, as she was swimming in the depths of a swift moving river. And Elissa and her companions knew this to be true, for they recognized the woman as belonging to those people that were simply referred to as “River Folk.” But what she could want was a mystery to them.
She called out a word, and raised her hand in what seemed to be a greeting, and took several more steps forward. Necher, after seeing that none else in the group had understood, got to his feet and said simply,
“She says hello,”
A shared look of mild surprise dawned across the faces of Elissa and her crew as Necher walked forward to meet the twilight visitor. He offered a few words of explanation to them,
“River Folk often traveled down the River Lees, near Ponpello where I’m from - we did plenty of trading with them, and so I picked up a few words.”
Elissa thought she caught a slight smile peeking out beneath Necher’s moustaches, and allowed him this rare moment of pride. Even in their long history, the Elfan people rarely had dealings with the River Folk - leave it to the Cluricon, relative newcomers to the Green Country, to find a useful and meaningful connection with them. Necher strode forward, and raised a hand in a similar greeting, and spoke the same word the woman had spoken, back to her. She relaxed at this, and with graceful strides, stepped forward to meet Necher.
A conversation then ensued which was of great interest to all onlookers, though they could not discern its topic or purpose. Durkey had roused from his post-supper nap, overtaken by his curiosity. Soon enough, Necher broke from the negotiations, to return to his expectant lord and comrades.
“Uh, she’d like to buy one of the horses,”
Reported Necher, somewhat awkwardly. This was the last thing Elissa had been expecting, and suddenly feeling the queenly pressures to act as emissary to the country she was current ruler of, despite being ready for sleep, bade Necher invite the woman to sit near the fire so they might share a conversation. She approached, and took a seat on one of the large rocks which formed a scattered ring around the fire. Their cooking cauldron still hung near the campfire, and Negwyn fetched a bowl, filling it with mushroom stew, and handed it to the woman. She took the bowl with slender fingers the color of verdant algae, a little uncertain, and gave a nod of thanks.
Elissa motioned for her to eat, and then spoke,
“I am Queen Elissa Lannon, steward of these lands that make up the Green Country. My friend tells me you seek a horse, is that right?”
Elissa paused, allowing Necher to translate her message into the tongue of the River Folk. It took him some time to find the words, but he managed to convey the message to the visitor. Listening all the while, the amphibious woman brought a spoonful of soup to her lips. She took a bite, and the color seemed to drain from her face. She swallowed laboriously, and then set the bowl aside as politely as possible.
She spoke a few sentences in her language, rapid, short words whose sound was smooth and silvery like a night river. Necher listened intently, and then when she had stopped speaking, he conveyed the message to Elissa.
“She bids you greeting - her name is Cyllandra. She apologizes, but admits she knows little of the rulers of the Green Country.”
Elissa smiled at this. Such was the way of things in a backwoods kingdom such as theirs. Some areas of the domain were so isolated, the folk dwelling there had no reason to even consider such things as rulership, or courtly comings and goings. The river folk were an insular people living in an insular land. Elissa knew little about them, save for that they were said to be nomadic, using the network of rivers that crisscrossed the land as a means of travel. Elissa brought her thoughts back to the matter at hand, and then spoke.
“Regarding the horse - I’m sorry to say that we cannot afford to part with even one. We require them to pull the carriage for our journey.”
And Elissa gestured to the caravan which was parked adjacent to their campsite. Necher conveyed this, and Cyllandra nodded, understanding. Elissa wondered why the woman required the use of a horse, and considered if she might be able to help some other way.
“Do you need the horse to travel somewhere? Perhaps you could ride with us if you plan to go in the same direction.”
Necher passed along this information, and Cyllandra shook her head politely, offering an explanation. Elissa saw Necher’s eyebrows raise in restrained astonishment, then he turned to Elissa to share the information.
“She says she needs the horse for food.”
Elissa wasn’t expecting this answer, and paused for a moment to think.
“Tell her that we have other food we can share with her, besides the mushroom soup, should she want it.”
Necher suggested this to Cyllandra, who shook her head again and smiled. She spoke a few words, and then stood, giving a slight, respectful bow. Elissa stood too, and bade the woman farewell. Watching her go, Necher shared his translation, though it was clear he did not understand what it could mean.
“She said it is not her who is hungry, it is the salamanders.”
Elissa could make little sense of this either, and they watched the tall figure of Cyllandra gracefully pass out of the firelight and back into the darkness.
Soon enough, they had returned to their evening relaxations around the campfire. Necher’s flute trilled a soft tune, and the night breeze blew gentle and cool. On a near hill that faced their camp, Elissa saw a light wink into view. Even at their distance, she recognized the form of Cyllandra, silhouetted against the night sky. She held aloft a staff that was topped with a globe that cast an amber light. Curiously, she watched the woman slowly crossing the hill. Every so often she turned back and paused, raising her illuminated staff, and waving it gently. What could she be doing? wondered Elissa.
Then, another silhouette lumbered into view. A massive creature waddled up the hill, following after Cyllandra, and then another. It was a drove of giant salamanders, led by the strange shepherdess. Necher had stopped playing on his flute, and collectively Elissa and her companions watched the twilight procession across the hill. The massive creatures dwarfed Cyllandra though followed her intently, their tails waving slowly. It was Elissa who broke the spell of silence with a bemused question,
“Tell me Necher, did your people ever trade for giant salamanders with the River Folk?”
Eyes still fixed on the otherworldly creatures as they tromped their moonlit course, he replied,
“I cannot say we ever did, my Queen.”
