I, Dragon Series Bundle. Books 1-3: The Epic Journeys of Simon Morgenwraithe

by Nathan Roden

  “The man is like a ghost—or a demon!” Lady Lamont said. “He moves about like the viper he is!”

  “I don’t think he heard—”

  “How can we know what he hears?” Lady Lamont said. “Or what he is told? We must be more careful, Jaclyn.”

  “All right, Mother. Let’s try to think happy thoughts, shall we? Father will be here soon. And with tomorrow’s celebration, we should have at least two full days of happiness. Hopefully, Sterling and Raynard will let me us keep Father to ourselves on my name day.”

  Robinette Lamont patted Jaclyn’s hand.

  “Yes. Let’s try to have a good two days, at the very least.”

  Robinette bent over and patted Jaclyn’s tummy.

  “We will pray for a better world for you, our little one.” Robinette stood up.

  “Now, you must be absolutely famished, eating for two. Let’s be off to the dining room.”

  “I’ll join you there, Mother,” Jaclyn said. “I am going to get dressed and find Lucien. He needs to become part of this family—and spend more time with you and father.”

  She put her hand on her tummy.

  “Lucien barely knew his own family,” she whispered. “And I am not including his evil uncle. Soon, we will all share in the birth of this child. I think it will be good for Lucien.”

  Robinette hugged her daughter.

  “You have such a good heart, My Queen.”

  “Someone very special gave it to me,” Jaclyn said. She kissed her mother’s cheek.

  Jaclyn dressed and walked into the courtyard. The castle servants scurried about, preparing for the next day’s activities. Jaclyn walked toward the stables. She passed by a group of Lucien’s young friends. They wore hunting clothes. She asked if any of them had seen Lucien. None said they had.

  They looked uncomfortable and hurried away.

  Curious, Jaclyn thought.

  Jaclyn pushed open the door to the stables. She looked around and saw no one. She patted the head of a young colt. And then she heard a noise.

  Squeaking. Coming from the loft.

  Mice scurrying about, Jaclyn thought. Or maybe even at play.

  She heard it again.

  No, not squeaking.

  It sounded more like…giggling.

  Jaclyn crept to the loft’s ladder, pushing past a huge cow that was eating lazily from a pile of hay.

  Jaclyn crept up the ladder, pausing to listen. Halfway up, the rung she stepped on groaned. Jaclyn’s head snapped up, and she was suddenly face-to-face with Lucien.

  Jaclyn screamed in panic. She lost her grip. Her arms reached out but found only air. Lucien grabbed for her but missed. She fell

  And land on her back in the hay.

  Lucien scrambled down the ladder. He knelt beside Jaclyn.

  “By the gods!” Lucien cried. “Are you hurt? Is the baby—?”

  Jaclyn finally noticed that Lucien wore only his trousers—and they were unfastened.

  She pushed him away and made her way awkwardly to her feet.

  “I am not hurt,” she said flatly. “And neither is your son.”

  Jaclyn pushed past Lucien and stared up the ladder.

  “Come down from there, this instant! That is not a request! It is an order from your queen!”

  Lucien put his hand on Jaclyn’s shoulder.

  “Jaclyn, you do no need to—”

  Jaclyn jerked her shoulder free. She faced Lucien and slapped him. Hard.

  “I said get down here this instant!”

  Jaclyn heard crying. A pair of bare feet appeared. And then, legs. The squalling girl fumbled her way down the ladder. She stood before the Queen, her shoulders quaking—clad only in her undergarments.

  It was Tilda.

  “I am so, so very sorry my—!”

  “Just shut up, shut up, you stupid, stupid, girl!” Jaclyn said.

  “Jaclyn, I can—” Lucien tried to say.

  Jaclyn did not look at Lucien or say anything. She held up one finger that silenced him.

  Tilda fell to her knees.

  “Please, my gracious Queen! I cannot beg your forgiveness, but I beg your mercy!”

  Jaclyn looked disgusted. She grabbed Tilda by her hair and pulled her to her feet. She grabbed Tilda’s collar and pulled her face close.

  “You acquired the taste for wine rather easily, did you not? And the King has access to the very best, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Tilda continued to sob.

  “Your Queen asked you a question!” Jaclyn snarled.

  Tilda bobbed her head up and down.

  “Y-y-yes! The best, My Queen!”

  “Do not think for one second I blame you for this, Tilda. What handmaid would dare ignore the advances of the King? How could he help himself? He is, after all, Lord Sterling’s nephew! Who I am sure has had you as well!”

  “If you would show me mercy, My Queen, I shall be forever in your debt! If you spare my life—”

  “I am not going to have you killed, Tilda! But if you ever mention this day to anyone, including me, I will have your head displayed on our wall. Do you understand me?”

  Tilda dropped to the ground again. She bowed down and kissed the ground at Jaclyn’s feet.

  “Get up,” Jaclyn said. “Get dressed and get back to the castle. There is much to be done to prepare for tomorrow.”

  Tilda jumped to her feet.

  “Yes, My Queen! At once, My Queen!”

  Sixteen

  Tilda was gone quickly.

  “Jaclyn,” Lucien said. “I did not mean to—”

  “I do not care about your lusts or your trysts, Lucien. I do not need your attention.”

  “And I do not need your love. What I need, is for you to be a proper father to our child. We face a difficult path—and I cannot prepare him for what lies ahead all by myself.”

  “Ha!” Lucien said. He did not look at Jaclyn.

  “You are never alone—in any task! You are the queen! You will have nursemaids, and handmaids, and servants of every kind—”

  “I am talking about our child!” Jaclyn exclaimed.

  She put her hand on Lucien’s arm.

  “Our baby! Not a horse to be trained or a sword to be sharpened! He will be our little boy—our little man. He will look up to his father to teach him—”

  Lucien snatched his arm away. He turned toward the door. He wanted to run. But his pride would not allow it.

  “What makes you think I know the first thing about being a father?”

  “You once knew nothing about being a King,” Jaclyn said. “But the people still bow their knees—”

  Lucien barked another humorless laugh.

  “They bow their knees to keep Sterling from chopping off their legs!”

  “But in just two years—”

  Lucien clamped his hands to his ears. He turned back toward Jaclyn. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

  “Stop it! Stop saying that! Do you think that I don’t know what happens in two years? Do you know that I lie awake thinking about the day when the law no longer gives him power?”

  Lucien looked around, nervously.

  “What power does the law hold over Sterling and those loyal to him?”

  Lucien let go of Jaclyn.

  “Sterling has used me—like a plow horse, or a mule. He has forced me to do his bidding, and the Kingdom has suffered—in my name! In two years’ time, I will no longer know where Sterling ends, and I begin.”

  “But, the baby, Lucien—”

  Lucien turned away again.

  “You would do well to keep the child far away from me.”

  Jaclyn began to cry.

  “How can you say that? He is a part of you, Lucien—”

  “My blood is poisoned!” Lucien was no longer able to control the volume of his voice.

  “My MIND is poisoned! I was the seed of rage, and madness, and endless war! How would I know how to love anything? Or anyone?”

  “You must try,
Lucien. I can help you—”

  Lucien was on the verge of rage. He grabbed handfuls of his hair. He bent over at the waist.

  “Lucien? Are you all—?”

  “Get away from me! I don’t love you! I don’t love your wench handmaid! I don’t love anyone!”

  Lucien stood up slowly, breathing hard.

  His blazing eyes met Jaclyn’s.

  “You love the filthy dragon more than you love me.”

  Jaclyn stopped crying. She held her breath and shuddered. Her lip trembled.

  Lucien put on his shirt and stormed out of the stables.

  Jaclyn steadied herself. The baby was in constant motion. She waited until Lucien had time to get back to the castle before she opened the door.

  Immediately, she felt their eyes on her. There were several people in the courtyard. Too many.

  Jaclyn pushed the heavy door open and turned to her left. A dozen quick paces later, and she passed through the south gate.

  Two guards stood at that gate. One of them stepped toward her.

  “My Queen, you mustn’t—”

  Jaclyn turned around.

  “The Queen must not what?” she snapped.

  The guard had no answer.

  Four young members of the army watched Jaclyn leave the stables and pass through the gate. Two of them ran after her.

  “My Queen,” Oliver asked, breathlessly. “Where are you off to, this fine day?”

  Jaclyn glared at the guard and kept walking toward the village.

  “There is little fine about this day,” Jaclyn said. She stole a glance toward the other soldier who had stopped to talk to the guard at the gate. He hurried to catch up to them.

  Jaclyn leaned toward her young escort and whispered.

  “Remember. You do not know me, Oliver.”

  “Of course not, My Queen. I am merely doing my duty.”

  Jaclyn rounded a corner. She found herself in the midst of several children at play. There were some very young ones, being looked after by older children. They were all very thin, and dirty. Their clothes were ragged.

  “Look!” one older boy pointed. “That’s the queen!”

  “It is not!” another boy scoffed. “The queen does not just walk about in the streets!”

  Six of the young boys were fascinated with the army uniforms.

  “It’s amazing!”

  “A real sword!”

  “Can we see it?”

  Oliver looked nervously at Jaclyn. She smiled back at him.

  “Step back, boys,” Oliver said. “It is very sharp.”

  The children crowded around to see the gleaming sword. Jaclyn felt something. She turned around and saw a very tiny girl tugging at her dress.

  “Hello,” Jaclyn said.

  “Do you have any food?” the girl asked.

  Jaclyn’s heart stuck in her throat. She could not think of what to do. Or to say.

  And then she remembered the celebration that would take place the very next day.

  “Oliver,” she said without thinking.

  Oliver’s head snapped up immediately. He saw the confusion on his fellow soldier’s face.

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Jaclyn was horrified at her mistake. She turned to the other soldier.

  “What is your name?”

  “I beg your pardon, My Queen?” the young man said.

  “Your name,” Jaclyn repeated.

  “T-Timothy.”

  Jaclyn turned her attention to the children.

  “We will be right back. Please stay here.”

  “Sometimes the castle guards come and chase us away,” one of the older boys said.

  “They will not chase you away this day,” Jaclyn said.

  “Says who?” another older boy said.

  “Says your Queen!” Oliver said.

  One boy shoved the other.

  “I told you she was the Queen!”

  Jaclyn held up her hands.

  “Do not leave.” She turned and walked toward the castle.

  Oliver and Timothy hurried to catch up to her.

  “What are we doing?” Oliver asked.

  “A good thing. For once.”

  Seventeen

  Jaclyn and the two soldiers reached the courtyard.

  “We will need four more stout backs, two horses and wagons,” Jaclyn said. “Go. Quickly now.”

  Jaclyn walked into the formal dining room. Servants scurried about between that room and the kitchen. The amount of food being prepared for the coming feast was incredible.

  A breathless Oliver ran up behind Jaclyn.

  “Everything you’ve asked for is on the way.”

  “Thank you,” Jaclyn said.

  Jaclyn stepped into the middle of the room. She clapped her hands loudly.

  “Your attention, please, everyone!”

  The frantic activity came to a stop.

  “Two wagons are being brought to the courtyard door,” Jaclyn pointed. “I would like for you to fill them with the desserts that have been prepared. All the pies, the cakes, the tarts. If there is room remaining, we will fill that with something else.”

  The servants looked confused. They stared at each other and did not know what to say.

  “All the desserts?” an older chef finally asked aloud. “These dishes are for your name day celebration, my queen—”

  A girl grabbed up two arm-loads of pies and started toward the door.

  “Our queen has spoken her wishes clearly,” she said.

  Tilda.

  The others slowly followed Tilda’s lead.

  One of the cooks, an older woman, rubbed her hands together, nervously.

  “What about tomorrow? If Lord Sterling finds out—”

  Jaclyn smiled. She raised her hands.

  “Can you not make more? Are our cupboards bare?”

  “No, my queen,” the woman said. This seemed to calm her.

  Oliver stepped next to Jaclyn.

  “We’re taking your name day feast and giving it to those children?”

  Jaclyn smiled.

  “There will be many more children there when we arrive. Trust me.”

  Oliver cleared his throat. He shifted his feet and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Perhaps we should take more men with us, to be safe.”

  “Will it put us in danger—feeding hungry children?” Jaclyn asked. “I am not afraid.”

  “As you wish, my Queen.”

  Jaclyn glared at the guards when they reached the gate. The guards turned aside and pretended not to see anything.

  Jaclyn’s prediction was correct. There were more than fifty children around the corner from the south gate.

  As Jaclyn and the eight soldiers passed out sweets to the children, the crowd continued to grow. More children came as well as some curious adults.

  Oliver whispered something to three of his fellow soldiers. They spread out and glared at the adults and older boys who crowded in on the wagons.

  Timothy grabbed one over-anxious man by the shoulder and pulled him away. He said something in the man’s ear while he pulled his sword half-way from its sheath.

  The man nodded. He had just learned a valuable lesson. Jaclyn handed him a tart. The man turned and walked away.

  The wagons were almost empty. Jaclyn and the others scanned the crowd to make sure there was not one hungry child who did not have something to eat.

  “This is the best name day gift I could ever have,” Jaclyn said to Oliver.

  A man in the crowd smiled. Blueberries stained his scruffy beard.

  “Long live Queen Jaclyn!” he cried.

  The others clapped and yelled their support.

  “Perhaps Lord Sterling has found another dragon for your name day!” the man shouted.

  “Aye!” another man shouted. “That would be excellent! To see another dead dragon on the floor of the arena!”

  Jaclyn, hands shook. She dropped a cake to the ground, and several children pou
nced on it. Jaclyn’s thoughts drifted away from the joy of the moment, to the torment of seeing the pathetic dragon pierced by Lucien’s sword.

  She saw the brilliant green eyes of her dragon friend—somewhere out there—hunted and despised.

  And loved.

  The baby pushed and kicked against her insides. She thought she might be sick. She put a hand to her mouth and began to cry.

  “My Queen,” Oliver said. “Are you—?”

  Jaclyn ran away.

  Oliver looked at Timothy.

  “Go with her.”

  Oliver pushed his way through the crowd.

  When he reached the men, he grabbed one by the collar.

  “I should cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat!”

  He pushed the man to the ground and hurried after Jaclyn.

  The man looked up.

  “What did I do?”

  Jaclyn ran toward the gate, sobbing. All eight soldiers followed behind. Jaclyn saw the guards approaching. She squeezed her eyes shut and ran past the gate without slowing down.

  The gate guards watched the queen run past. They were joined by Raynard and Sterling.

  “It seems that the queen might have a new understanding of why there are walls around the castle,” Raynard said.

  “Mongrel dogs will take meat from your hand, until the day that hand comes up empty,” Lord Sterling said.

  “On that day, they will bite off your hand.”

  Eighteen

  Boone felt the road beneath the wagon smooth out. He peeked out through the wagon’s cover. He saw children at play.

  When the procession traveled a little further, Boone slipped out of the back of the wagon. He stood on the outskirts of Morgenwraithe village.

  He could see the guard towers. He ran into the woods and made his way slowly toward the village.

  Boone made certain there was no one else around. He pulled his hood over his head, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked through the village gates.