Thank you for the music: Lord of the Dance (4/4)

Mishto hom mi dikava tute! (Good to see you made it here!). I'm sure you're wondering why I just took off and jumped all the way to eastern Europe. One of the German chivalric orders has been supervising a programme of (rather militaristic) colonization in this area, so here in Schäßburg,
Romania, seemed like a good place to start looking for the missing children.
The date today is Friday July 7th, 1284. With the extraordinary powers of persuasion which two gold ducats endowed me I bought us both temporary fellowship in a kumpania (Romany family), including sleeping quarters in one of their vardos. The accommodation is actually pretty respectable if you compare it with most common folks in this period. And I have to credit the Rom; their personal hygiene is a good deal better than most common folks. Of course, since we aren't Rom ourselves we get referred to as "paash raat", their term for a gaje who has adopted the nomadic lifestyle.

I should also explain that I abandoned my male persona shortly after arriving here. These wily gypsies saw right through my disguise and actually suggested a couple of improvements I hadn't thought of, but I'm quite happy for them to refer to me as miri kushti b'o-r (my dear (non-Rom) lady). I'm afraid as far as the family is concerned I haven't been much use for more than the most basic tasks; grooming the horses (they have three, two of them fine draft horses apparently), and fetching water and firewood. The wife of Chief Lovar has offered to teach me some fortune-telling skills but nothing has come of it so far.
However, the family has been very helpful in establishing a rapport with Laszlo Kriwaczek, one of the shepherds, and it is from Laszlo that I gleaned the most important information.

If you come with me up the hill I will show you the place that Laszlo pointed out to me where he saw, with his own eyes, as he told me, "a great river of alien children emerge from the cave. Some of them crying, and all of them weary." He has also told me how some of the families of the town took the younger ones in and lodged them with their own children. Most of the older children have been taken in as servants; the region is still recovering from raids by Mongol invaders about forty years ago, and there is plenty of work for young healthy bodies.
Without any prompting he gave me some important details: none of the children were more than eleven or twelve years old by appearance, and their language was strange to his ears.
Sadly, as a gypsy my welcome is tempered by a suspicious caution and I haven't been able to make a close approach to any of the local families, but I have heard small groups of children talking in German!
So let me close this account of my investigation with a stamping dance which Dinu Dalakis (his "local" name) taught me, playing his bosh: