Sir Dalton and the Shadow Heart (7 page)

THE PRISON OF DISTAZO

Dalton faded in and out of consciousness as the Shadow Warrior took him deeper into the forest. To Dalton, it seemed they had traveled for an eternity At one point he heard other dark voices and roused to a sketchy consciousness. Drox dismounted, and no matter their destination, Dalton hoped that this was the end of their travels.

Dalton heard the snorting and pawing of many horses nearby.

“Rise up, Distazo,” he heard the voice of another powerful warrior say. “What manner of prisoner have you captured for me this time?”

“He is another young fool from the city of Salisburg, my lord. I’ve been working on him and many others for years.”

“Ah, I am pleased with your work. Which of my deceptions worked best with him?”

“He believed a little of all of them, my lord. Just enough to make him weak and vulnerable.”

“Good…good. That is always the most effective. And are you training more Vincero Knights?” the dark lord asked. The mere sound of his
voice made Dalton shudder. If Drox was this dark lord’s servant, Dalton was glad he could not see an even darker face of evil.

“Continually, my lord. Before long, the havens won’t even recognize them.”

The dark lord laughed loudly, and other grim chortles joined him.

“Carry on, Distazo. One day I will come and visit your prison myself.”

“I would be honored, my lord,” Drox said. Minutes later he mounted up once again.

Dalton heard the sound of many horses galloping away. Then Drox moved onward, and Dalton once more fell into the blackness of his mind.

Dalton opened his eyes to a place of utter despair. He was lying in a heap on the floor of a dank, filthy prison cell. He moved to sit up and then screamed in agony against the pain that exploded from his left arm. He waited for the intensity of the pain to subside before trying to move again. This time he carefully cradled his arm with his right hand and then moved to sit up. Even then, the pain was nearly unbearable.

He took a deep breath and rested against the stone wall at the back of the cell. The throbbing in his head added to his misery. He took another breath and looked around. Only now did he realize that there was no door to his prison cell. At the front of the cell there were bars, but the door had been removed. The way stood open.

A prison cell with no door? How strange!

“Where am I?” he gasped into the blackness.

“You are in Drox’s prison,” a voice answered gently.

Startled, Dalton looked to his right to see a man a few years older than himself. Dressed in the garb of a knight, he sat on his haunches, staring at him through the iron bars from the adjacent cell. His tunic
was dirty and worn, his chain mail rusty. From the man’s accent, Dalton guessed he was from the far northern region of the kingdom.

“Who are—”

“Shh!” The man held his finger to his lips and pointed toward the front of the prison cells.

Dalton made a monumental effort to scoot a few feet to the man and leaned against the bars next to him.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

“I am Si Kon. But my name is of no significance here. I am…was… just like you. A Knight of—”

The man stopped short and looked at Dalton with fear in his eyes.

“You mean a Knight of the—?” Before Dalton could finish, the man reached through the iron bars and slapped his hand over Dalton’s mouth. He held it there tightly as he slowly shook his head, his eyes wide.

“Do not speak that name here,” he whispered, then slowly removed his hand.

Dalton looked left and right and could see many cells each way. As near as he could tell, all were occupied.

“Why don’t the cells have doors on them?” he asked softly. “Is there an outer chamber that is locked?”

“No,” the knight replied. “There is no outer chamber, and the passageway out of the prison is not guarded.”

Dalton was confused. “Then why don’t you and everyone else here leave?”

“Because I”—Drox’s dark voice echoed through the prison cells—“will stalk you, hunt you, and utterly destroy you!” The warrior stooped to enter Dalton’s cell. Si Kon scuttled away to the far corner of his own cell and watched in horror. Fear swept over Dalton again as this beast of a warrior strode over to him.

“You begged for mercy once before, and now I offer it.” Drox’s smile
managed to be both terrifying and enticing. “Renounce your foolish beliefs, and you are free to go. Many have done so, and it is a simple thing, especially since you don’t really believe all that nonsense about the Prince anyway…yes?”

Dalton’s mind raced through the possible outcomes of Drox’s apparent trickery. Could it be that simple? Is this all the massive warrior truly desired, for Dalton to renounce the Prince? Dalton considered it carefully, but deep in the center of his heart, something would not let his lips form those words. Every fiber of his body ached to be free, no matter the cost, and the pain in his arm and head screamed against his defiance, but still Dalton resisted.

“No,” he said quietly.

Si Kon looked away as the wrath of Drox erupted in a vile string of curses. He reached down and grabbed Dalton’s upper arms with his huge hands. Dalton screamed as new agony shot through his broken left arm.

Drox lifted him into the air and shook him. “You will, fool. One day you will—and I will revel in that day!”

Drox threw Dalton into the corner of his cell and left. Dalton’s mind wallowed on the fringe of consciousness, for the pain took his breath away. A few moments later, Si Kon entered Dalton’s cell with some cloth and two flat pieces of wood.

“You are brave,” he said as he gently helped Dalton sit up again. “Perhaps foolish like the rest of us, but brave nevertheless.”

Si Kon set to splinting Dalton’s arm with the wood and the cloth. The process was incredibly difficult to bear, but once it was complete, Dalton felt mildly better. They fashioned a sling from Dalton’s belt, which helped immensely.

“Thank you,” Dalton said.

Si Kon nodded.

“How long have you been here?”

“Many, many months,” Si Kon said sadly. “I miss my wife and two daughters.”

“Have you ever considered escape?” Dalton asked.

“At first, every day. But now…” His voice trailed off. “Some have tried, and they were killed. It is our fear of Drox that imprisons us, not the iron bars.”

With Si Kon’s help, Dalton stood and walked to the front of his cell. The prison was inside a massive underground cavern. An open area in the center was surrounded by hundreds of cells just like Dalton’s. Some had iron bars, but some were just alcoves in the granite walls. The walls and ceiling were grungy and black. The ceiling rose in a jagged arc from the cells to a height of thirty to forty feet. At the top, Dalton saw birds flying in and out of a ragged opening that must have led to the outside world. A steady stream of water dripped from the entrance and fell to a mucky pool below. Torches set in sconces along the walls illumined this morbid prison.

To his left, Dalton could see the main entrance of the cave—a dark tunnel. On the far right, four lean and vicious canines were devouring the carrion of some creature. Their hairless hides were covered with large blotches, and the largest was the size of a small bear.

Not far from the hounds was a large, jumbled stash of swords. Dalton looked at Si Kon and then motioned toward the weapons.

“Drox calls them his hounds of despair,” Si Kon said with a smirk.

“Not the dogs,” Dalton said. “The swords.”

They are ours.

“But they are practically unguarded,” Dalton said with surprise. “There are many knights here, and only one Drox.”

“Drox is as powerful as a hundred knights,” Si Kon said. “We would be fools to try…dead fools.”

Dalton was stunned by his response and marveled at the apparent power Drox possessed over the minds of their fellow knights. Then he
realized that he too was Drox’s prisoner and dared not condemn his brothers and sisters just yet.

“Besides,” Si Kon continued, “there are the hounds, the death ravens, the guards, and Drox’s Vincero Knights. They will do little to stop you from leaving, but once outside you will be hunted again. Hunted by them like sport. And if they don’t get you, Drox will. Then when he finds you…” Si Kon’s gaze dropped to the floor. “It is hopeless to try.”

“This shouldn’t be,” Dalton said in exasperation. “We are Knights of the Prince!”

“No!” Si Kon said. “I told you. You cannot speak that name here!” He slowly backed away from the cell opening as a sinister growl sounded.

The hounds had all stopped their feast. They looked Dalton’s direction and lurched to their feet. The largest ran toward his cell, and the other three followed close behind. Now Dalton wished his cell had a door, for there was nothing to stop them. He backed away as the hounds approached the cell opening. All four snarled viciously, revealing yellow, bloodstained fangs.

“If they attack, give them your good arm,” Si Kon said in a hushed tone. “The chain mail will help.”

The pack leader lunged for Dalton’s neck, and he raised his right arm just in time for the hound to clamp its jaws down on his chain mail. It held, but the force of the hound’s bite was powerful. Another hound attacked, and Si Kon intercepted it with his own arm. The other two hounds guarded the cell opening as if to keep their prey from escaping.

Dalton felt the teeth of the hound pierce his flesh, though not deeply. The animal growled and yanked backward, opening the wounds further. Dalton knew his arm would be a mangled mass of torn flesh were it not for his chain mail.

The hound released its grip and poised for another attack. Dalton heard Si Kon fighting with the second hound.

“Release!” a voice commanded from just outside the cell.

The four hounds ended their attack and slunk away from the cell. A knight in black armor stood at the cell opening. He crossed his arms and glared at Dalton.

“Si Kon, you should know better than to join yourself to fresh meat.”

Si Kon scowled at the knight as he cradled his arm.

“Back to your own cell,” the knight commanded.

Si Kon went to the opening of his own cell, and the knight shoved him from behind. “Keep quiet!” Then he moved away.

Si Kon went to the iron bars between their cells and sat down. Dalton leaned against the bars close to him.

“I’m sorry,” Dalton whispered as he took a deep breath. “I didn’t know.”

“I will die before I become one of them,” Si Kon murmured.

“What do you mean?” Dalton massaged his arm with his left hand, thankful the attack of the hound had left only minor cuts.

Si Kon turned and looked at Dalton with narrow eyes. His straight black hair had grown so long that it nearly covered his eyes.

“He was once one of us, but Drox turned him into a Vincero Knight.” The disgust in Si Kon’s voice was evident.

“I didn’t think such a thing was possible,” Dalton exclaimed. He couldn’t imagine a fellow knight ever serving someone as evil and loathsome as Drox, especially after having come to the knowledge and enlightenment of the Prince.

“Nor did I, till I was brought here,” Si Kon said contemplatively. “Perhaps those who turn never truly served the Prince.”

At that, Dalton’s head dropped slightly, as did his heart.
Do
I
truly serve the Prince?
he wondered. Was there some purpose or consequence for what he was enduring, or was it all simply a matter of circumstance? Drox’s very presence seemed to indicate something more—or something less in Dalton and his service to the Prince.

“I know your thoughts,” Si Kon said quietly. “I’ve lived with them for two years now. Unfortunately I have no answer for you.”

“Then I will find my own…when I leave this wretched place,” Dalton said, finding a source of resolve that surprised him. “When my arm is whole, I
will
leave.”

Si Kon gave a quick huff. “Everyone who comes here is injured in some way. Drox makes sure of it. By the time your arm is healed, your heart will be sick. It is his way, and it always works.” Si Kon lay down on the stone floor and closed his eyes. “I am sorry, my friend. Drox is too strong, and you will never leave—never.”?