Blood of the Goddess Book I: The Locust King
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Locusts at the Gate Chapter 2: A New Name Chapter 3: The Capital Prepares Chapter 4: The Princess is Dead, Long Live the Princess Chapter 5: Outside the Gates Chapter 6: Inside the Black Tent Chapter 7: Surrender at the Temple Chapter 8: The Cult of the Locust Chapter 9: The Locust's Tenets of Faith Chapter 10: Mourners on the Cliff Chapter 11: The Eye of Betrayal Chapter 12: The Dead King's Bedchamber Chapter 13: The Arms of the Goddess Chapter 14: Zayaan of the Narim Chapter 15: The Eyes of the Priestess Chapter 16: A More Permanent Disguise Chapter 17: Tribute Chapter 18: Sacrifice of the New Moon Chapter 19: The Lost Bird Chapter 20: Manah and the Priestess Chapter 21: Desert Creatures Chapter 22: Become the Swarm Chapter 23 The Price of Betrayal Chapter 24: Life Under the Locust Chapter 25: Wild Rose Chapter 26: The Lady Wren Chapter 27: Thought and Desire Chapter 28: The Lady's Captivity Chapter 29: The Wine Maiden Chapter 30: End of Childhood Chapter 31: The Children of Aisha Chapter 32: The Forest Runner Chapter 33: Three Sisters Chapter 34: The Hunt Chapter 35: Bones in the Forest Chapter 36: Lullaby Chapter 37: The Hunter's Horn Chapter 38: Ways Between Ways Chapter 39: Morning Star Chapter 40: A Prophecy for Baraz Chapter 41: Equinox Fires Chapter 42: The Lord Prince Takri Chapter 43: Evening Star Sets Chapter 44: Chaos in the Courtyard Chapter 45: Dasha Chapter 46: Memories Chapter 47: The Body Slave Chapter 48: Caged Beasts Chapter 49: Message from the Capital Chapter 50: Heresiarch Chapter 51: The Color of Blood Chapter 52: Winter Winds Chapter 53: The Bookmaker's Closet Chapter 54: Wrapped in Dignity and Beauty Chapter 55: Vessel of the Goddess Chapter 56: Cracks in the Walls Chapter 57: Two Brothers Chapter 58: The Court of Women Chapter 59: Favored of the King Chapter 60: The Sweetest Fruit Chapter 61: Daughter of the Temple Chapter 62: A Nation of Bastards Chapter 63: The Lute Player Chapter 64: Aisha's Prayer Chapter 65: Promises Chapter 66: Lives Lost Chapter 67: The Tea Maker Chapter 68: Object of DesireChapter 50: Heresiarch
Outside a receiving room in the palace, Dasha stood alone on the hard stone floor shifting her weight slowly from one foot to the other, swaying side to side as she held on to her walking staff. Each winter brought more aches to her joints, especially if she was motionless for too long. This year, the loss of her sight brought on debilitating headaches as well, a byproduct of her wounds and the intensification of her other senses.
How I have fallen! Less than a year ago, if I was summoned to the palace, it was to give counsel in matters of state, or to take part in feasts, or to provide blessings. Now, I come stripped of all rank. I am less than the servants who empty chamber pots. I stand here hoping for the sound of my sons' voices to drift to me on this damp air while I wait in a hallway in disgrace. I am not considered of enough import to be received in the throne room any longer.
She heard the click of the door latch before the smell of rosewater, incense, and sweat hit her.
Baraz.
She remembered the first time she saw him in the strigoi-viu's black tent, when she came to negotiate for the lives of the people of the temple. He was merely an advisor then. A small-boned man, built like a bird with a cruel face and groveling manners. A tool for the tyrant, just as she had become.
More smells drifted from the room. Leather. Smoke. Spices. Wine. And under it all, the faint scent of blood. So, the strigoi-viu himself will receive me today. The citizens have indeed frightened the beast.
"The God-Emperor bids you welcome, heresiarch,” said the high priest. “Do you need my assistance? Your Eyes cannot attend meetings of such importance as this.”
“I am grateful for the welcome, High Priest. I can manage on my own,” said Dasha, tapping her way forward with her staff. The room sounded smaller than she remembered. She could feel the heat radiating from the fireplace on the far wall, a respite from the cold flagstones in the hallway.
“Heresiarch,” said Mahleck. “Come, sit with me by the fire."
"Thank you, my King. The fire feels good to these old bones. The mountain winters seem colder every year,” said the old woman as she felt her way to the chair.
"It is not easy to grow old and closer to death each day,” said Mahleck. “The Zorya witch seemed to enjoy her fire as much as you do. Do all crones feel the same?”
Dasha spread her hands before the fire, heat seeping into her joints. Death. Death would be a release for these old bones. In the fire at least I would never feel cold again. The strigoi-viu speaks of death as if it was a threat. Life. Life under his control is much worse.
"I only live because you desire it, my God and King," said Dasha. And to keep my people from total destruction by your hands.
"We are curious. How do the citizens see the purification of the Zorya witch last evening?" asked Baraz. “It seemed as if her words stirred them into rebellion.”
"The witch spoke blasphemies and riddles about the blood of a false goddess and a destroyer. None should believe any of her words," said the old woman. "I cannot tell what they saw in the courtyard, only her words."
"What of this blood?" asked Mahleck. "Who is the blood of the demoness?"
"The demoness was the lifeblood of Adyll. All Adyllians claim her as their mother," said Dasha.
"What of the royal house? Are they not the true blood of this false goddess?" asked Baraz.
"It matters not. The last of that line is dead. The people saw you burn her remains,” said Dasha. “When I saw the Queen cradling the corpse of the Princess Irinya , I knew the Lady must be a lie. How could she not be false, if she allowed the death of her own child? When the Princess died, so did my faith. The night she died was the same night I came to the black tent to plead for mercy upon Adyll."
"So, you believe the blood of the goddess could mean any person with Adyllian blood?" asked Baraz.
Dasha turned to face the fire. "I believe it was the rambling of a crazed mind. The Zorya spend their days alone in their huts in the aspen forest, trying to see spirits with the aid of spider venom. This one would not be the first to lose her sanity."
"Some say they saw the spirits of the dead dancing in the fire as she was consumed," said Mahleck in a low voice.
"Such is the imagination of an ignorant populace who have yet to see the truth," said Dasha.
“Those who have the eyes to see truth saw truth. Even blind women such as yourself saw the illusion for what it was, a lie,” said Mahleck. “Those who love the demoness chose to see ghosts in the flames. By this choice, we can determine those fit to live and those who must die."
"Your methods are wise beyond understanding, my Lord,” said Baraz. “This shall be a test of the populace."
"Indeed," said Mahleck. "Do not forget, it was I who called down flame from heaven to destroy the witch and silence her heresy for all eternity. I will wipe away all the sins of Adyll with holy flame."
Dasha heard the scrape of wood on flagstone as Mahleck stood from his chair, and then his booted footsteps as he walked behind her. The scent of leather and blood followed him as he laid his hands on her shoulders.
"Heresiarch," said Mahleck. “You shall redeem yourself from your former sins by speaking the truth to the people. What they choose to believe will determine their fate in the coming days. The purifying flame of death, or a life under the one true God."
"Your mercy is infinite, my God and King," said Dasha.
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