"Well, obviously not everybody," Sheppard said, looking at Mitchell to see if she had anything to add to the conversation. She shrugged; she didn't know anything more about them than he did, after all.
"You-"
"Cay?"
A woman had suddenly appeared at the door behind the man, looking out at the strangers, curiously. Since they hadn't killed him, she had to assume that they were at least willing to talk, and they so seldom had visitors, after all...
"They're travelers, Rella," Cay said over his shoulder, still watching the newcomers.
"Travelers?" She hit his shoulder. "Of course they're travelers, you dolt! Do they look like our children?"
Melony smiled, and the woman caught the expression of amusement on her face and decided that if they had a sense of humor they couldn't be all that bad.
"My name's Rella," she told them, stepping forward and bowing. "This is my husband, Cay."
"I'm Major Sheppard," John told her, returning her bow a little awkwardly. "This is Colonel Mitchell, Lieutenant Ford, Doctor McKay, and Teyla."
"You're traders?" She asked, unsure what the titles meant.
"We are at the moment," Mitchell said. "We were told you are in the middle of your harvest season, and hoped to trade for any surplus you might have."
"We don't trade with strangers," Cay said, slightly sullen at being made fun of by his wife in front of strangers.
"Why does that sound familiar?" Sheppard said, looking over at Teyla, who smiled.
"You must stay the night," Rella said. "We don't have a lot of room, but we have plenty of food and you can all sleep in the barn."
"Joy." This was from McKay, who had managed to be nice for all of ten minutes. A new record.
"We'd love to stay for dinner," Mitchell said, stepping forward and bowing as well. "And perhaps you could tell us more about these Guardians that roam your woods..."
They should know about anything that might pose a threat to them, after all.
Rella nodded, smiling warmly.
"Come into the house."
They were all ushered into the house, which turned out to be far more comfortable than it looked from the outside. There was a large room that was dominated by a table with several chairs around it, and thick rugs that would keep the wooden floor from being cold on even the chilliest of days were scattered everywhere. There was a large fireplace that had a big pot of something boiling over the small fire and whatever was cooking smelled delicious.
"Come out, Children," Rella called when they'd all entered the house.
At her words, a handful of youngsters – ranging in age from a toddler to a boy of maybe 13 – all appeared in a doorway that led off the main room. Obviously, they'd been told to stay out of sight while their parents had decided whether the newcomers were dangerous or not.
Melony and the others nodded politely.
"Sit you all down," Rella said, putting her hand at the small of Melony's back and guiding her over to a chair. Since Rella was more than a few inches taller than Mitchell, and probably outweighed her by at least 30 pounds, it wasn't difficult.
"Thank you..."
Melony sat down, and the others were settled in chairs around her, with Rodney sitting beside her and the others on the other side of the table across from them.
"Dinner's not for another hour or so, but we can talk until then," Rella said, gesturing for the oldest boy to come forward. "I'll send Tray to the neighbors and have them come over – if you're going to be wanting to trade, you're going to need to talk to them. Most of our food goes to feeding the children."
"Thank you," Teyla said.
A cup was placed in front of Melony, who looked up and saw Cay standing next to her. As if he was trying to make up for being sullen, he gave her a fleeting smile.
"Tea?"
She looked at the steaming cup, wishing heartily that he'd said coffee instead.
"Thank you."
She took a sip – it was hot and had a faint cinnamon flavor to it. Not something she'd drink every day – especially since she wasn't a tea drinker by nature – but it wasn't bad.
I like itYeah, well, your taste isn't all that great you know.
The others were offered cups as well, and each of them took a sip, with varying degrees of politeness. Rodney sniffed his carefully.
"It's not citrus, is it?" He asked Mitchell.
She shook her head.
It's not, is it?
No. Did you see any orange groves around here?Melony smiled.
Good point.
"Drink it, Rodney," she said. "It's good."
He took a sip, and Melony took another drink of her tea and turned her attention back to Rella.
"So tell us about these Guardians," she requested. "What are they?"
"Creatures," Cay said, shuddering. "Terrible things that travel in packs and attack anything that moves – sometimes even our animals, although not very often."
"They're like dogs?" Sheppard asked.
Rella shook her head.
"More like demons."
"Manlike?" Ford asked.
"Why are they called Guardians?" Melony asked. The name implied that they guarded something, but it sounded like they were only trouble.
"Because the old tales say that the Guardians were placed here to protect the ancient city from travelers."
"The ancient city?"
Cay shrugged.
"It's probably just a story."
"Have you seen it?"
"No. No one has. No one wanders too far away from their farms."
"I don't blame them," McKay said.
"What's in the city that needs guarding?" Melony asked.
"No one knows," Rella said. "No one wants to go find out."
I want to know
You're too curious for our own good.
It might be something important
It might be a shrine to the secret cow god.
It might be a way to finish the Wraith
Why would they hide it?
They're not hiding it, they're guarding it
I'm not going traipsing all over this planet looking for a lost city and dodging vicious man-eating creatures.
Just ask the neighbors about the city when they come in... maybe one of them knows something these two don't
She sighed, and the others looked over at her.
"Sorry..." she gave Rella and Cay a wry smile, not about to explain that she was having a conversation with a critter living inside her. "It's been a long day."
"Ah."
Sheppard gave her an odd look from across the table, but Melony shrugged; she'd talk to him about it later, when they had less of an audience.