Once upon a time, there was an emperor and an empress (in another version, a priest and a priestess) who had no children. One day, as the empress was crossing a river, she saw a fish and wanted to eat it. She called the cook and asked her to prepare it. The cook made the dish, but she also had a taste.
And so, both women became pregnant. Each gave birth to a boy.
The boys grew unusually fast: what a normal child would grow in a month, they grew in a day; what others would grow in a year, they grew in a month. They grew up quickly…
(Oh, I forgot to say, when the emperor baptized the boys, he named his son Busuioc (Basil), and the cook named hers Cimbru (Thyme).)
The emperor gifted Busuioc a horse for his baptism, a ducifal, as horses were called then, and two dogs as companions. But the boys looked so alike that no one could tell them apart. They even called each other brothers, and though they could recognize each other, no one else could.
To mark her son, the empress wanted to brand Busuioc behind the ear with hot iron. She called him over, and he came. But when she tried to mark him, Busuioc jumped back:
—What are you trying to do, Mother? Come, brother! They don’t want to raise us, they want to burn us!
They leapt on their horses and rode away. And the emperor (or priest) was left with no sons.
The two boys roamed the world. After a while, they said:
—Brother, it’s not good for both of us to walk the same path. We’re too strong for one road. Let’s part ways.
At a crossroads, they exchanged handkerchiefs.
—Here, take mine. If you ever see three drops of blood on it, know I’m dead.
—Take mine too. If you see three drops, it means I’m gone.
They parted. Busuioc ended up in a village. As for Cimbru, he vanished into the world.
Busuioc arrived at a gate on the edge of a village and knocked. An old woman came out.
—Good evening, Auntie!
—Good evening, my boy!