Once upon a time, in a very young land, there lived a poor man with his daughter and baby son. One day the father said, "Ona, my child, I have worked this year weaving straw into mats and now I must take them to town to sell so that we will have food for the next year. Take good care of your brother and I will be back before the full moon."
The weaver waved goodbye as he set out with his cart full of mats. He walked quickly and reached the town that evening. He was setting up his stall as a richly attired young man rode by. The man reined in his spirited horse to have a closer look at the mats. They were woven in an unusual pattern of interlocking circles.
"That is fine work," he said, "are you the weaver?"
"Why yes," the weaver said, proud that a nobleman would take notice.
"Could you weave tapestries as well?" the nobleman asked.
"I certainly could, if I could afford the materials," the weaver said.
"Then you are hired. I am the King and you are henceforth the Royal Weaver. Here is your retainer." He handed the weaver a pouch of coins.
The weaver was overjoyed. "I must go back to the forest for my son and daughter," he said.