In the distance, the sound of hooves could be heard through the drifting, undulating melody of the bard’s tune. A coach approached, driven by a man who looked entirely bewildered. He seemed to be fighting the horse, but the horse was content to ignore his direction.

The bard’s tune grew to a frenetic crescendo, then suddenly stopped. He held the flute to his lips for a moment, then slowly opened his eyes, brought the flute down from his lips, and considered the driver for a moment.

“What is the meaning of this? What’s going on?” The driver seemed irate, and a little frightened.

The bard stepped forward, and spoke softly. “Did you pass through this way a short while ago? Do not lie, I will have the truth one way or another.”

The man paused, then nodded his head silently.

“I believe you owe this boy and his mother an apology, sir.” The bard motioned towards the pair, who had been standing quietly beside the coach. He smiled, then added, “and maybe some coin, to ease their troubles.”