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 1: Locusts at the Gate
"The Locust King's tent is now hung with black, Queen Mila. The gates of the city will fall by dawn." The captain of the city guard looked ashen as he delivered his report. "There is no escape."
"Bring me my chief bodyguard," said the Queen before turning to the women behind her. They had gathered in the sanctuary of the Goddess, the most holy place in Adyll, to pray for deliverance. That deliverance did not appear to be forthcoming.
One of the younger acolytes began to sob quietly as the captain hurried away down the corridor on his errand from the Queen.
"Holy women of Adyll, you have my gratitude for keeping vigil with me during these tribulations," said the Queen, "Go now. Kiss your loved ones. Prepare your families, for the time of the Locust is upon us."
The women quickly filed from the room, leaving the Queen alone except for her daughter, the Princess Irinya, and the elderly high priestess, who moved to shut the doors behind the crowd.
"Irinya, my dearest love," said the Queen, wrapping her arms around her daughter, a girl of no more than twelve summers. "You know what we must do. We have talked of this."
Irinya began to cry. Her mother held her for a few moments, and then turned to the high priestess. "Summon Manah." The high priestess hurried to obey.
"Mama, you can't. I can't. I cannot leave you, Mama," sobbed Irinya. "Let them kill me. Or we can throw ourselves from the Temple window onto the cliffs below. I want to be with you and Papa."
"No, my love. You mustn't think like this. Papa is gone, and I will join him. But you, you are the blood of the Goddess. You must endure, just as She did. You must hide, just as She did. And I must sacrifice myself, just as She did." Queen Mila hugged her child even tighter. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You cannot allow this strigoi-viu Mahleck to know you exist. He is coming, and if he finds you, he will do worse than kill you. He will devour your soul. He will use you to lay claim to this land. You cannot allow that. You must survive, and you must never let him find you. Do you understand?"
Irinya nodded.
From behind the altar a man cleared his throat. "Your Majesty." He stepped from the darkness, a man of unknown age, lines of pain and wisdom etched into his face. He wore a long brown tunic made from wool, and his feet were bare. This was Manah, advisor to the late King Pytr.
"Manah, dear Manah. It is time. The worst we had feared is now upon us. The strigoi-viu Mahleck is at the gates of the city. This King of Locusts will be upon us soon. I give Irinya into your keeping. Keep her safe and keep her hidden," commanded the Queen.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I will guard her as if she were my own. Come, my child. You will be safe with me."
Irinya clung to her mother. "No, Mama. No - I will stay with you."
Queen Mila was firm. "You must go with Manah. Go. They are coming, and I must stop the killing before our streets run red with the blood of our city. Go. I love you." She held her child to her breast. "You are a princess. You are the rightful heir to this throne, the rightful ruler of Adyll. You must survive or all is lost."
A deep, rhythmic thudding sound began outside the walls of the sanctuary - the sound of the battering ram.
"We must go now," said Manah. "I have arranged everything as you have asked, my Queen." He handed her a small vial. "This will deaden the pain."
The Queen kissed her daughter, and then watched them both disappear into the secret entrance behind the winged idol. Queen Mila of Adyll did not have time for tears.
Mother, keep all your daughters safe.
Gathering herself, she turned and strode to the closed door of the sanctuary beyond which the chief of her personal bodyguard was waiting. He entered and closed the door behind him.
"Have you found a suitable corpse?" asked the Queen.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, there were several to choose from. The Holy Mother has already seen to the preparations. The girl was an orphan - so there is nothing to be paid to the family," he said.
"Good. We will make the necessary sacrifices and perform the rituals for her as it would befit a true princess of Adyll. May the Lady accept her sacrifice and protect the daughters of this land from the evil that is upon us," said the Queen. "Bring her to me that I may mourn the loss of my own daughter."
He bowed low. "As you wish, my queen."
"And send me the Holy Mother. We have a funeral to prepare. Time is precious."
Manah rushed Irinya down stone hallways. Her footsteps echoed eerily back to her, replacing the drumbeat of the battering ram outside. She could not see through her tears.
Manah had always fascinated her. He was her father’s most trusted advisor, but few knew he existed. Manah had always been stern and quiet. He lived under the Temple in the catacombs and caves that riddled the underside of the city, deep inside the mountain from which the oldest parts of the city had been carved. He wanted no part of life on the surface. Required very little, giving the gifts given to him by the king to the poor. This did not stop the king from giving them, because he knew that above all else, Manah desired to do good in the service of The Lady. Irinya remembered that he had once accepted a gift of flowers from her when she was small, and that he had kept those for himself.
They came to the stairs leading to the catacombs and Irinya stopped short, terrified.
“You must come, Princess. Don’t make your mother’s sacrifice for naught. Come.” Manah held out his hand to her to lead her into the blackness where the bones of her ancestors were laid to rest. She was going to join them. Mustering together her courage, she set her foot on the first stair and disappeared into the darkness.
Though the corpse of the golden-haired maiden on the flower strewn altar was not her daughter, the Queen mourned nonetheless. This orphan street child was the same age as Irinya, and the same build. The high priestess had done well in preparing the body. She was beautiful and innocent, bejeweled and robed in white silk, a small crown on her head. Her fingers wrapped around the blue wildflowers called Lady's Tears. Legends told that when the Lady mourned the loss of her own children, these flowers sprang from the ground to comfort Her. As such, they were present at every funeral in Adyll. Behind the altar was the statue of the Lady, looking down upon the widowed mother and orphaned child, unmoved, tranquil, at peace.
“She looks like a holy child of the Lady," said the Holy Mother. "When the princess was born, my Queen, we all rejoiced that she had the Lady’s golden hair. We knew she was a sign of blessing from Her, a child of Her lineage who would bring great blessing to this land.” The high priestess laid her old hands on the Queen’s shoulders. “The evil man at the gates will never know that this child is not Irinya. The preparation I used on her hair is the same one the oracles use when they speak for Her at the Solstice. There is no child of this age anywhere in the kingdom other than your Irinya who has hair this color. And I will die before I speak this secret."
“You are sure that no one else knows?" asked the Queen.
“Only you, your chief bodyguard, myself, and Manah. And at least two of us will be dead before the sun rises tomorrow.”
“Yes. Leave us now. I will address the people in an hour. Make the preparations you need within the Temple. Make sure my daughter is safe and hidden."
“Yes, my Queen. May the Lady bless your endeavors and welcome you to eternal rest.” The high priestess bowed and left the Queen alone with the body of a child who was so like the one she was trying to save. The Queen knelt in front of the statue of the Goddess and lit incense, the smoke curling upward, enrobing the statue in fragrant smoke.
“Mother of us all,” prayed the Queen. Please watch over my child. Do not allow her to fall into the hands of this devil. Bring her strength. Bring her wisdom. Teach her to be the queen I know her to be. Be my eyes. Be my hands. Protect her. Please. Protect her…” The deep thudding from outside became more intense. A shadow of a wing momentarily blotted out the last rays of evening sunlight shining on the statue. The Queen looked to the window. An eagle stood on the ledge, peering at her, its head cocked to one side. She stood up slowly and walked towards the motionless bird until she was close enough to reach out and touch it. As her fingers reached towards the feathers, the bird suddenly flew away. On the ledge where it had been perched were blue flowers. The Queen wept. Her prayer had been heard.
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