Once there was an old widow, who lived alone with her son. They usually had enough to eat; they had a roof over their head, and a small area of land. The woman was satisfied with what they had, she had known what it was to suffer from hunger, and now, when her life was made, she was happy. But Arjun, her son, was not. He had lived in one place for all of his life, with only his mother, and now he wanted a new life, he wanted to travel, to see the world, to find his true love. Gabel, for that was the widow’s name, urged her son to stay home, he would find a wife for himself when the time came, and still Arjun was restless. So they lived until a messenger came to the town.
“Listen all,” he called, “for I come from the king himself with a m
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