The princess guided her steed gently along the narrow path through the woodland. The closer she got the more quiet the forest's noises became, as if they were waiting for that which brought her here.

The blackbirds refused to sing and the wind had ceased blowing. The leaves above her head seemed to be carved out of gold, so still and motionless they were on this windless moment. Even the water of the lake seemed silent and smooth like a mirror.

The only sound was that could be heard was that of her mount's hooves upon the sandy road.

Then she felt the tremble in the air. Tenderly it touched her eardrums and there it began to swell, until she could make out the words. It was sad ballad, full of longing and passion. His voice embraced her and forced her to the clearing, where he sat.

As he was interrupted by the soft noises of one too impatient to wait, the troubadour looked at her and smiled.

" Greetings fair maiden, with your lovely hazel eyes."

She blushed and cast down her gaze.

" I came to seek you, Haluin, for I long for your voice."

" So do many, dear maiden. Come, let us ride together and tell me about yourself."

Thereupon he mounted his own horse and they rode side by side through the wood and the meadows. They talked about a hundred things, and more than a few times the princess had to chuckle about his wit and stories about mischief and knavish tricks.

He listened to her stories and she felt comfortable riding with this handsome minstrel. Why would her parents and sister not allow her to ride with him? He seemed such a sensitive and charming man.

They passed farms and hamlets, rode through fields with waving grass and crossed shallow streams, yet however beautiful the scenery was, it was naught compared to the man's voice. Now it was as soft as a summer breeze, then as strong as a bronze bell, yet always it seemed to touch her...

The sun was already high up in the sky when she heard the cries of ravens. Their noises were rough and shrill compared to the sweetness of the singer's voice, and somehow she felt as if she was woken from a dream. A foul smell sought its way to her nose and she swallowed a lump.

" Perhaps we'd better take another road, Haluin. I dislike the scent of this place."

" Let us ride just a little further, oh maiden, so you can find out what brings forth this fragrance."

They rounded a corner and she saw a gruesome scene.

In the middle of the field gallows were erected and from them dangled several corpses. Some were hardly more than skeletons, rotting carcasses held together by their clothes and rotting flesh. Others were still beautiful even in their death.

" Dismount maiden", he said, and his voice was now cold and harsh.

" What is this?"

" Don't ask questions. Since you are a princess, I shall give you a choice the others did not have. How do you prefer to die?"

The princess looked at the bodies and shivered. Then she stared at the minstrel and straightened herself.

" If so, I shall choose the sword."

The troubadour nodded and unsheathed his blade.

" You'd better take off your shirt though", she said, " for a maiden's blood makes dreadful stains."

He grinned, stabbed the blade into the ground and pulled his shirt over his head.

Then the princess quickly grabbed the hilt and with all her strength, she hew at the man, entangled in his own clothes. It was not a maiden's blood that coloured them red though, but a murderer's.

The head screamed in pain and anger, even though it was separated from the rest, but soon it's shouts fell silent.

The maiden picked it up and washed in a nearby brook. Then she mounted her horse again and rode back to the castle. There a feast was given for the princess' safe return and the severed head of the minstrel was placed upon the table as a trophy.