My Name is Simon: I, Dragon Book 1

by Nathan Roden

  Magdalena followed the guard to the castle door. He held the door open.

  “Thank you, Sire,” Magdalena said. “I remember the way.”

  The guard followed her anyway. She knew that he would.

  Magdalena stopped at the door of her old room. It had also been her daughter Arienna’s room.

  The guard reached past her to open the door.

  “No,” Magdalena said. “Please, wait.”

  The guard looked at her pained expression. He nodded, turned, and left her alone.

  Magdalena reached for the door handle. Her hand shook. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

  Everything was just as she remembered it—except for the tables, mirrors, vases, and some other things that she destroyed in a fit of rage on the day that Arienna died by the Queen’s hand.

  No one had dared to intervene on that dark day. Magdalena’s fury continued until she was overcome by grief and exhaustion.

  She had picked up the broken things and thrown them through the window.

  She then placed a spell on the room—so that it would remain as it was.

  Forever.

  Not even a speck of dust, mold, or dirt could remain.

  And absolutely nothing could be removed from the room.

  Magdalena opened the wardrobe. She tenderly touched Arienna’s dresses. She pulled one against her face and breathed in.

  She could still smell the scent of rose water—her gift to her daughter that she obtained by special request from the captain of a merchant ship.

  The expensive bottle was Magdalena’s name day gift to Arienna. Magdalena gave it to her daughter three months after the King moved the young girl into the castle, and into the official position of seer.

  Arienna replaced her own mother in the King’s court.

  Arienna was a frightened and miserable child in those early days. King Bailin kept her isolated and permitted only brief visits between mother and daughter. Arienna slowly resigned herself to her new life.

  At each precious meeting between them, Magdalena kissed her daughter’s cheek. She closed her eyes and breathed in the heavenly scent of rose water mixed with Arienna’s purity and innocence.

  It made her weep, then.

  And it made her weep, now.

  Magdalena looked around the room. All the things that Arienna held precious were still there—on the tops of tables, and on the top shelf of her wardrobe.

  There were dolls and animal figures carved from wood: Pinwheels and noisemakers. Unusual and beautiful stones that they found together on long walks outside of the castle walls; when Arienna was still a wide-eyed and curious child.

  And every treasure was displayed with the greatest care.

  Magdalena put a hand to her mouth.

  For so many years, she dwelled on the memory of her daughter forced into the role of the King’s mistress. And for the past twelve years she could not see past the nightmare—the nightmare where her lovely daughter fell victim to the raging madness of the Queen.

  The reminders of Arienna’s youth and innocence took Magdalena’s breath away. She cried herself to sleep on the bed—the bed that also retained the scent of rose water.

  Magdalena was startled awake by pounding on the door. She wiped her eyes and opened the door to find two very agitated men.

  Sterling and Raynard.

  “We would like a word, My Lady,” Sterling sneered.

  Magdalena stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.

  “There are two more murdered guards outside of your door. That makes a total of—”

  “Murdered?” Magdalena exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Two more of my men,” Raynard fought to retain his composure. “Members of the King’s Guard—defenders of the realm—!”

  “You know nothing about this?” Sterling fumed.

  Magdalena glared at him.

  “I will not dignify that with a response.”

  “One of them had his skull crushed,” Sterling said. He watched the sorceress for her reaction.

  “His blood stains the steel that covers your walls. The other guard was ravaged—ripped apart—as if by some mad beast!”

  “The dragon was here!” Magdalena shouted. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “It was not the work of the dragon,” Raynard said. ”The man’s neck was torn open—but not by anything of that size. The dragon’s jaws would have taken the man’s head—if not half of his body!”

  “Then we have yet another dangerous beast to deal with,” Magdalena said.

  “What beast could overcome two guards wearing armor and carrying steel?” Raynard asked.

  “And what type of beast bashes a man’s head against a wall?” Sterling asked.

  “Perhaps your time would be better spent finding this beast, rather than interrupting my rest with yet another interrogation,” Magdalena said. “This…this…beast was at my front door! Need I remind you that—?”

  “No!” Sterling spat. “You will remain protected—the same way that you have been protected for twelve years!”

  Sterling looked at Raynard and motioned with a nod of his head. Raynard turned and walked away.

  “I will have the forest searched for this mysterious beast,” Sterling said. “But I can assure you—we will all be able to rest easier. And soon.”

  Magdalena narrowed her eyes.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Raynard turned the corner of the long hallway.

  Magdalena’s jaw dropped. Her eyes opened wide.

  Behind Raynard, walked the biggest man she had ever seen. He was so tall that he stooped to clear the ceiling. He was covered head to foot in a robe of brilliant blue.

  Magdalena trembled. She had heard tales of the brilliant blue cloaks worn by powerful wizards from far across the sea.

  This cannot be…

  The man stopped in front of her and Sterling. His hands were clasped together inside of his billowing sleeves. He pulled his hands apart. He wore jeweled rings on each of his huge fingers. He pulled the hood off of his head.

  His skin was pale—almost translucent. He had no sign of hair, on his head or his face. His eyes were the color of a frozen lake.

  Around his neck, he wore a string of teeth.

  Very large teeth.

  Dragons’ teeth.

  Sterling enjoyed the look on Magdalena’s face.

  “Lady Magdalena,” Sterling said. “May I present Lord Dathien—”

  “I am called Dathien,” the giant said. His deep, booming voice echoed off of the walls.

  “I require no other title among your people. We do not recognize your means of lording yourselves over each other.”

  “As you wish, Dathien,” Sterling smiled. “After all, your legend, and what you are capable of, speaks far more than any title!”

  “Dathien is the world’s greatest Dragonslayer! He has bested many of the beasts—!”

  “Twenty!” Dathien boomed. He fingered the teeth that hung around his neck.

  “But never one that was the result of a curse!” he said. “This makes the hunt most intriguing!”

  He touched each of his rings with tender admiration. He smiled—a horrible smile.

  “As well as the promise of jewels, of course.”

  “Fresh teeth for your neck and another ring for each gifted finger!” Sterling said. “The coffers of the Kingdom are far from full, but it is a small price to pay to rid the good people of Morgenwraithe of such a troublesome pest!”

  Dathien held out his hand toward Magdalena’s door.

  “There is magic beyond this door,” he said.

  “Crude, amateurish magic, to be certain. But effective, nonetheless.”

  Dathien closed his eyes.

  “A spell…a spell to ensure that the room may not be altered in any way.”

  Magdalena grew angry.

  “Ah, yes,” Sterling said. “The room holds great sentimental value for My Lady.”

  �
��Sentiment and magic are weak partners,” Dathien said.

  “Unlike magic and the love of jewelry and trinkets, I presume,” Magdalena said.

  “Ha, ha, haaaa!” Dathien’s humorless laugh shook the walls.

  He lifted a single finger and pointed it at Magdalena’s door.

  The door exploded, raining down splinters of wood.

  Dathien turned and walked away.

  Magdalena held her hands over her mouth.

  Sterling turned to Raynard.

  “Get some men up here to repair the door.”

  Five

  Jaclyn thumped the seamstress on the top of her head.

  “Ow!” the girl said. And then she giggled.

  “It isn’t funny,” Jaclyn said, but there was no venom in her voice.

  “It is a baby, Lucinda. Fashion and style will have to give way to comfort in the coming months.”

  ‘I apologize, My Queen. I have never altered a queen’s dress to accommodate a child.”

  “I can believe it,” Jaclyn said.

  The girl looked hurt.

  “Come now, Lucinda,” Jaclyn said. “I am only teasing. I know that you have been taught that there is no beauty without torture. But this little one is pushing around my insides without your help.”

  King Lucien threw open the door and stormed into the parlor. He wore his full battle garb, but he had yet to leave the castle. He was breathing hard and he clenched his hands into fists. He made an obvious attempt to control his emotions.

  ‘Is something wrong, Lucien?” Jaclyn asked.

  Lucien stared at the floor.

  “I need a word.”

  Lucinda needed to hear nothing more. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room.

  “Do you know anything about this? What Sterling has done?” Lucien asked.

  The baby in Jaclyn’s belly made a sudden move. She put her hand over her mouth. The sensation passed.

  “I do not know anything! What has Sterling done?”

  “What Sterling has done, is put us all in great danger!” Lucien spat. He began to pace.

  “He has brought a wizard to our shores—from a distant land full of…a land of freaks! A man so big that he makes Raynard look like a child!”

  Jaclyn interrupted.

  “But why—?”

  “The giant stands ten feet tall!” Lucien exclaimed. “Not a hair on his head—even over his eyes! And his eyes are like no other mortal creature I have ever seen. At this instant, he lights candles in my throne room—and chants to whatever dark gods he serves!”

  “This does not sound like Lord Sterling at all!” Jaclyn said.

  She stepped closer to Lucien.

  “Is Sterling protected, Lucien? Is it a certainty that his position of Regent affords him protection from the curse?”

  “It is a spell,” Lucien snapped. “A spell of protection. Not a curse. Do you ever think before you speak?”

  “Forgive me, your Grace,” Jaclyn said.

  Lucien ran a hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It is just that…” his voice trailed away.

  Jaclyn took his hand.

  “What troubles you, my king? You should have someone that you can talk to. You can talk to me.”

  Lucien squeezed her hand for a moment, and then he pulled away. He stepped in front of the window and stared out of it. Jaclyn heard him sniff.

  “Two more years,” Lucien said quietly. “Two more long years, I am under Sterling’s thumb. And then what happens? I do not believe that he will be content to step aside and leave the rule of the Kingdom in my hands.”

  Lucien lowered his voice.

  “He has held onto the reins of power for twelve years. He lives for it. It is his meat, and his water. He lusts after it—knowing that every soul in the realm is his for the taking.”

  Lucien turned and looked at Jaclyn. His eyes were wet.

  “My uncle cursed my soul on the day that you and I met. I will never be allowed to serve as King—as long as Sterling lives.”

  Jaclyn wept silently. The baby inside of her began to move. Jaclyn held her hands over her stomach.

  “Why has Sterling brought this strange wizard among us?” Jaclyn asked. “He has stripped the Kingdom of almost all wizards and sorcerers. The old ones have all died. How can Sterling trust—?”

  “Sterling trusts no one,” Lucien said. “He has promised this…this thing—a bounty of riches. The wizard will accomplish his task and take his reward back to his homeland—or Sterling will have him killed.”

  “What is his task?” Jaclyn asked.

  “To kill my brother.”