He lived in a small village in a dusty corner of Spain, a bony man of about fifty. He had little to do, and so he read. The flickering candle flame filled the corners of his room with ghostly shadows of giants and of dragons--for the only books he read were about the knights of old who roamed the countryside seeking adventures.
The horizon stretched out an invitation. He knew that he too must be a knight, must travel on a quest, must seek adventures...