“He obeyed, and I surrounded him with branches, covering him all over with leaves, and interlacing my boughs in a tangle so thick that it would have been impossible to see him or get at him without first chopping off every branch with a hatchet.”
“How about the enemies?”
“Well, the enemies arrived. There were ever so many and all around. They brandished their glistening swords and lances, and shouted, ‘He is here, he is here.’ Guided by the drops of blood, they came directly to me. I must confess I was frightened, not for myself but for him. I strained every joint as much as I could and looked around. The one who seemed to be the leader pointed to me with his sword and said:
“‘The tracks of blood end here, but he can’t be hidden in this thicket; not even a bird could get through it. It isn’t possible for him to be here; we must look somewhere else.’ And the disorderly crowd walked off among the stubble and scrubbly trees thrusting their swords here and there as if they were after game.”
“So the warrior was saved.”
“Yes, I saved him. I raised my branches and showed him the fountain of Tashira, in which he could bathe his wounds, and told him where he could find some healing fruit. He stayed near me for two days. At night he slept at the foot of my trunk. When I heard suspicious noises I called him and put my branches around him as a mother would do to a child. The third day he said to me, bowing low:
“‘Generous and beloved willow, I must leave you. I am a prince; my name is Funato. My enemy has attacked me with his army, burned my castle and confiscated my property. But I must return to my people and save them from further perils. I must protect them. I shall never forget what I owe to you. You will be adored by me and my people as long as we have life.’ And dressed in his armour, his helmet on his head, his sword at his belt, he walked away, turning every few steps to look back as long as he could see me.”
“And you?”
“I waved my branches to salute him, and from far away he could see me swaying and bowing. No tempest ever shook me so hard. I was very sad and not ashamed to weep.”
“Dear little Fiam; and have you ever seen him again?”