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

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  I, Dragon Freebie

  Wylie Westerhouse Freebies

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty Two

  Fifty-Three

  More from Nathan

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  I, Dragon Freebie

  Wylie Westerhouse Freebies

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  More from Nathan

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  I, Dragon Freebie

  Wylie Westerhouse Freebies

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  More from Nathan

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek of I, Dragon Book 4

  I,

  Dragon

  My Name is Simon

  By

  Nathan Roden

  I, Dragon

  My Name is Simon

  Copyright © 2016 by Nathan Roden

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  www.nathanroden.com

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  One

  Simon’s sixth name day was the greatest day of his life.

  Prince Simon Morgenwraithe fidgeted as he waited in the hall outside of the throne room. The new robe that had been made for the day’s ceremony made his skin itch.

  It was customary in the Kingdom of Morgenwraithe that the heir to the throne was announced before the people on his seventh name day. But King Bailin took particular joy in creating his own traditions. And in his mind, his son was so gifted beyond his years that there was no need to wait.

  “Be still, young prince!” his mother’s handmaid whispered into Simon’s ear. ”You will soon wave from the balcony to the people who will bend their knees before you. If you spend the entire time scratching that is all they will remember.”

  “If I had known the robe was going to itch so badly I would have washed it myself,” Simon said.

  “There was no t
ime,” the handmaid said. “The King gave us little warning he planned to make your announcement today. It is so exciting!”

  The handmaid squeezed Simon’s shoulders.

  “We are so proud of you!”

  Simon smiled, but his happiness was incomplete. He wished that these words came from his mother. But it had been so long since his mother had shown him any affection he could hardly remember it.

  Simon looked around the room.

  “Where is Lucien? Will he not be coming to watch?”

  Three-year-old Lucien was Simon’s only sibling. Yet, Simon hardly saw Lucien at all.

  Lucien cried almost constantly, and spent most of his days attended by nursemaids. Simon had never seen the King hold the baby. The King and Queen spent virtually no time with their youngest son.

  Simon had heard the stories, whispered among the castle servants.

  The Queen was feeding the infant Lucien one day when the King’s beautiful young seer walked past her. The girl smiled shyly at the Queen. The Queen flew into a rage.

  The story whispered among the nursemaids was that the Queen had thrown baby Lucien across the floor. She never nursed the baby again.

  Simon watched his mother as she crossed the room. He studied her eyes, as he always did, hoping to see something other than madness and hate. But that was all that he saw.

  He watched her slip away from the frantic servants. She walked to a far wall and stood next to a dark and mysterious lady. They exchanged whispers, and then the Queen walked into the throne room.

  Simon stared at the dark lady. She did not look at him. The woman was tall and thin. Her shiny black hair flowed into a lacy black dress that trailed the floor. Simon had never seen her dressed any other way. She had very long fingers, with long nails. And there was something about the woman that Simon did not like. She had never spoken directly to him. She smiled at him in passing, which always made his skin crawl.

  Simon had seen his mother with the dark lady several times of late. This disturbed him greatly.

  The dark lady’s name was Magdalena. Simon did not believe she deserved such a beautiful name. He thought it more fitting that she be called “spider” or “witch”.

  Simon heard his father before he saw him. King Bailin had the perfect voice for a King. From his balcony, he could speak to thousands without even shouting.

  Simon’s heart leaped when he saw his father.

  When he saw his father’s brother, his heart sank.

  Simon had been determined to gain his father’s love and affection for as long as he could remember. It fueled his every desire: his desire to walk, to talk, to master language, to master reading and writing, and to learn the history of the Kingdom. His earliest memories were of his desperate desire to gain his father’s attention.

  And his efforts had worked.

  But the King’s brother, Lord Sterling, also coveted the King’s attention. Sterling always had a cup of wine or ale in his hand, and he was forever putting a cup into the hand of his brother.

  And so, on Simon’s sixth name day, Bailin and Sterling were reeling from the last night’s drink.

  Simon rubbed his sleeves briskly one more time. He stood straight and tall.

  King Bailin walked toward the balcony. He waved and addressed the people. He turned and held out his hand for the Queen to join him—

  And then hell itself descended upon Morgenwraithe Castle.

  A dagger flashed—a young girl’s throat exploded in an eruption of blood. People ran in every direction, screaming. The servants that had surrounded Simon were gone. He tried to see what was happening. He heard his father bellow in agony. His father came toward him—

  But then the King’s eyes grew wide and blood gushed from his chest.

  Simon looked into the far corner where the dark lady had stood. She was still there.

  And staring directly at him.

  The dark lady held her fingers in the air and pointed at him. Her hair swirled around her head, crackling with light, without the aid of any wind. Her eyes flashed with the same madness as the Queen’s. Her lips moved, but Simon could not make out any words.

  The itching became intolerable. Simon tore off his robe. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound that escaped was like nothing he had ever heard.

  The rush of screaming people halted. The screams died down. The crowd of people in front of Simon backed toward the walls, leaving Simon the view of a lone woman on her knees in the middle of the room.

  His mother.

  She was covered in blood from her hair to her feet. She clenched a dagger in her right hand. Her eyes blazed with ultimate madness. She pointed at him.

  “Behold! Your new King!” she screamed—

  Before she plunged the dagger into her heart.

  Simon had no time to react. The screaming began again, and men ran at him. The King’s Guards charged him with hate-filled eyes and raised swords. Others reached to pull arrows from their quivers.

  Simon turned to the side to seek his escape. He lifted his arm—

  Only, it was not an arm.

  It was a…a…

  Simon saw the glint of steel as a sword swung down at his side.

  He almost collapsed. His right side exploded in pain.

  Simon turned and ran toward the balcony. He looked down.

  His feet, were no longer his feet. He hovered above the floor.

  This is not possible, he thought. This is all a dream. A nightmare!

  Arrows flew past him.

  Simon reached the balcony and threw himself off of it. The death from a fall had no face—and no name. The same brave men who had sworn on their lives to protect him were now chasing him with hatred in their eyes, and foul words on their lips.

  Simon squeezed his eyes shut as he fell. His instinct to survive overtook him and his arms beat against the air.

  He slowed. And then, he rose into the air.

  Simon opened his eyes.

  He had no arms.

  He had wings.

  A flurry of arrows bounced off of his scaly body. The wing cut by the sword had grown numb and stopped bleeding. Members of the King’s Guard mounted horses and screamed with hate-filled voices as they chased after him.

  Simon turned toward the west, and the setting sun.

  He flew, and he cried.

  Two

  Twelve Years Later

  The dragon woke to the sound of barking hounds. He had flown many miles from the cave that was his current home. He dared not do what he was about to do anywhere near his secret lair.

  The dragon hid behind trees at the edge of the forest. His scales faded to match the mottled gray of the tree bark.

  He watched silently as the hunting party passed by and then continued to the north. The dragon crept along, keeping the dogs in sight. They sniffed at the ground and the air as they ran ahead of the men.

  The dragon spotted the prey before the dogs did. When the hunters caught sight of the solitary bull elk, they quickened their pace. The dragon stepped out of the trees behind them and took flight in the opposite direction. He flew low over the trees and circled back toward the elk. He heard the thrum of arrows, followed by the baying of the hounds and yells of men.

  “I got him! The kill is mine!”

  “You’re off your head, Crager! You’ll find my quill in the neck of that bull!”

  The dragon tucked his wings and dove.

  “Look there! The dragon!”

  “Now there’s the kill I’ve been waiting for! Out of my way!”

  “There is the hide that will feed me for the rest of my days!”

  Arrows flew past the dragon. A dozen of them bounced off of his scales. He swooped low and latched onto the massive bull elk.

  “Ooof!” the dragon strained at the elk’s weight.

  “I’m sorry,” Simon whispered to the dead animal.

  He flapped his wings with all his might until the curses and screams of men and dogs faded into the silence of empty
sky.

  Three

  The dragon soared along the treetops with the setting sun at its back. The man was ignorant of the dragon’s presence. He concentrated on unhitching his horse from his plow. In the blink of an eye, the dragon swooped and wrapped his talons beneath the man’s arms.

  Four children screamed and ran to their father. Two young girls in long dresses huddled together as two older boys screamed curses and threw stones at the great flying beast. The dragon and its catch were out of sight within seconds.

  “No!” the man screamed. “My children! Let me go, foul creature! My children—they are all I have!”

  Seconds later, the dragon descended to the mouth of a cave. He released the man gently to the ground.

  “Are you hurt?” the dragon asked.

  “Y-you…you speak?” the man shuddered.

  “Ha, ha, ha!” the dragon chuckled. “I am a gifted foul creature!”

  The man spat on the ground and lifted his chin.

  “What else but a foul creature would take a man from his family just to fill his belly? Well, get on with it! Roast me with your demon breath!”

  He threw his arms out to his sides.

  The dragon shook its head.

  “Where is the children’s mother?”

  The man dropped his arms.

  “What? You have no right to—do you mean to fill even my last moments with torment?”

  “Where is their mother?” the dragon asked softly.

  “She…died,” the man said. “She took the fever—three winters past.”

  “I counted four children.”

  The man balled his fists.

  “If you touch a hair on their heads, I will haunt you from the grave! I swear it!”

  The dragon raised a leg and pointed a talon at the man. The man flinched and turned his head aside.

  “I need your clothes,” the dragon said.

  The man blinked hard several times.

  “What?”

  “I said I need your clothes. Quickly, please.”

  “I do not underst—”

  The dragon drew himself to his full height and spread his wings. His eyes changed from dull amber to a blaze of orange fire.