Stark grey walls built from large stone blocks gave the castle a dreary, lonely look. With its large vacant windows, it looked like a skull that had been dropped by a careless graverobber.

My grandson clapped his hands. “Who lives there?”

I silenced his applause with a look. “Sir Wilhelm lives there, Charles, and we do not clap for him, we pity him.”

“Why?”

“Because he exchanged love for honor and we all suffer for that decision.” Bitterness crept into my voice.

Charles leaned forward. “Story time! Story time!”

We had many leagues to go, so I settled back against the wagon seat and puffed on my pipe.

“Once Sir Wilhelm was the finest knight. His prowess was widely known, and was matched only by his generosity. During the Spring Ball he met the beautiful Lady Katarina and fell in love with her. The King, recently wifeless, desired her too and asked Sir Wilhelm to step aside. On that day the knight buried his heart at the foot of his honor and did as the king asked. Without love, he became lifeless.”