Free Sir Dalton and the Shadow Heart by Chuck Black

both arms would be available in case of an emergency.
    Dalton wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. At various times throughout the sleep period, a guard would walk the perimeter of the outer chamber near the prison cells. Dalton lay still as he heard the guard’s footsteps approach and then fade away to his left. Shortly thereafter, he heard Si Kon slowly sliding across the floor, but it was too dark in the cells to see if he was carrying the sword.
    “It is here,” Si Kon whispered and held the hilt toward Dalton. As Dalton grasped the sword, Si Kon grabbed his forearm.
    “Be careful, my friend,” Si Kon said soberly. “Drox doesn’t give second chances.”
    “Thank you, Si Kon. I’ll not forget you.”
    Dalton stood and tucked the hilt of the sword under his left armpit, holding the blade along the left side of his body with his right hand. He crossed over to the cell entrance and peered into the outer chamber. The snores coming from various cells interrupted the cavern’s otherwise heavy silence. He quietly exited his cell to the left and stayed close to the iron bars of the next thirty cells, hiding behind rock outcroppings whenever possible. He tried to synchronize his steps with the rhythm of the loudest snoring man.
    When he reached the last cell, he heard the footsteps of another guard making rounds. He was amazed that so much time had already passed and began to worry that he would not make it out of the cavern before the waking alarm.
    Dalton froze, wondering where he should hide. The footsteps came closer, and he heard the man in the cell behind him moan. Dalton quickly entered the cell and crouched in the far corner near the man’s boots, hoping the guard would be sloppy in his inspection. Evidently the bundle beneath his blanket in his own cell had fooled the guard, for he had already passed by it without alarm, but now Dalton was sure to be captured.
    The torch the guard was carrying flickered with his gait and caused the shadows of the bars to dance in a passing parade. Dalton sank into the rock walls like a cornered mouse. He clutched his sword and decided he would at least fight to the very end. He heard his fellow prisoner stir on the far side of the cell just as the guard reached it.
    Dalton held his breath.
    “Hey! Do you mind?” Dalton heard the prisoner say loudly, holdingup a hand against the light. The guard looked briefly to the far side of the cell and then away as he passed. The light diminished, but Dalton saw the prisoner slide the waste bucket away from him. After a moment of silence, the man crept near to Dalton.
    “Whether you make it or not, you bring us hope,” the man whispered in the murky darkness.
    Dalton sighed and moved to the cell opening. He waited until the silence swallowed the receding footsteps of the guard and then made his way to the cavern opening. He felt a cool breeze flowing downward, and it refreshed his spirit to know this air came from a place with no ceiling. Dalton looked about once more to verify he was yet unseen, grasped the hilt of his sword with his right hand, and entered a wide tunnel that sloped gently upward.
    The tunnel curved left and right, then divided. The right branch was dark and unlit. It appeared to be a dead end, so Dalton took the left branch, which was illumined with an occasional torch. There was still no sign of Drox or his henchmen, and Dalton became anxious over what he might find at the tunnel’s exit.
    After a few more moments of travel in near darkness, the subtle glow of natural light began to illumine his way. He could hardly contain his excitement as he neared the exit. He forced himself to slow his pace and proceed with caution, fearing the exit might be guarded.
    To his surprise and delight, there was no one. He looked into the beauty of a pink and blue morning sky. The smell of evergreen and wild-flowers filled his nostrils. He plotted the quickest route to cover, then bolted away from the