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 Desire Chapter 69: Empty Shelves Chapter 70: Darkness and Light Chapter 71: The Love of Men Chapter 72: The Cursed Ones Chapter 73: Hiding Places Chapter 74: Old Men's Tales Chapter 75: False Prophecies Chapter 76: The Lord Prince Radu Chapter 77: Love Becomes Life Chapter 78: Mistress and Mother Chapter 79: A Test of Strength Chapter 80: The Strigoi-Viu Cometh Chapter 81: Scraps from the Table Chapter 82: A Fool's Errand Chapter 83: The Little Ghost Chapter 84: Stolen Honeycakes Chapter 85: Breathe Chapter 86: Beneath the Palace Chapter 87: Red Pebbles Chapter 88: Common Men Chapter 89: Love and Duty Chapter 90: Nightmares Chapter 91: Earth and Sun Chapter 92: Love and Creation Chapter 93: Until My Last Breath Chapter 94: Fruit and FlowerChapter 42: The Lord Prince Takri
Takri rode ahead of the cart holding the captive oracle. Dressed in the livery of the house of Mahleck and astride a black warhorse Takri appeared as a younger version of the King. He carried the banner of the tyrant, a golden locust emblazoned on a field of red. It snapped in the cold wind blowing down from the mountain peaks. Ahead, he could see the man who had raised him up as a "Prince among Princes" and member of the royal household. A man whom he despised, but who he must emulate if he wished to see his cousin ever again.
As they neared the temple, the crowd became more restless. The sight of the old prophetess in chains on Adyll's holy day was proving too much for the more common residents of the capital. Combined with the recent famine and the disrespect of Adyll's women tempers were running high. The soldiers of the Swarm pushed back against the angry crowd, but not before several handfuls of excrement hit Mahleck and his honor guard.
"Usurper!"
More excrement hit Mahleck's warhorse, causing it to rear on its hind legs.
"Fuck the Locust King!"
"False god! He is a man just like us!"
"Down with the usurper!"
Takri halted his horse and held up his hand to stop the progress of the cart behind him. The crowd pushed past the soldiers towards Mahleck and his horse, chanting more insults. The rioters were mostly young men of the lower classes intent on bringing down the man who had destroyed their way of life.
Mahleck stayed astride his horse, hailing blows down upon the attackers. Within moments he was alone, his horse surrounded by bodies while his personal guard chased down the surviving insurgents. He locked eyes with Takri and nodded before addressing the remnants of the crowd.
"Do you see how futile your resistance is, people of Adyll? We will still burn this witch before the sun sets! These foolish young men will be caught and brought to me before dawn. All will be put to the sword! This witch is not worth your life!" Mahleck raised his hand to start the procession towards the temple again. There were no more disturbances along his path.
"What is pitch?" asked Aisha.
"It's hardened pine sap," explained Nasreen. "It catches fire with a single spark if the wood is dry. Pine burns hot and fast. Did your parents teach you how to build a fire when you were little?"
Aisha shook her head, "I... I don't remember much of anything before the Swarm came."
Nasreen hugged her close. "It's ok. We are family now. You and me. We will take care of each other no matter what. You can be my little sister. I always wanted one."
Tears began running down Aisha's face. "I'm scared, Nasreen."
"We all are, Aisha. We all are."
The drumbeats began again deep and steady. The priests of the Locust threw the last of the wood upon the pile and scurried away to take their places in front of the sanctuary. Above them the desecrated image of the Goddess hung like a faceless corpse. Only the outline of her magnificent wings remained, rough-hewn in the rock.
Mahleck and his retainers, still wearing evidence of the near riot outside the temple, rode into the courtyard followed by the cart holding the captive Zorya. The crowd parted obediently in front of them as they approached the pile of wood before the sanctuary.
"Aisha! There! Look! Next to the Zorya," whispered Nasreen. "That is Takri, the Narim prince from the brothel. What is he here for?"
"The standard bearer?" asked Aisha. "He must be of high rank to be chosen by the King to participate."
"I don't understand," said Nasreen. "Why is he here? And why is he dressed in the livery of the usurper? He told me he loved the Goddess."
"I do not know, Nasreen. I am sure he has a reason," said Aisha.
Mahleck raised his hand and the drums stopped, leaving silence in the courtyard beyond the cries of raptors circling high above the temple. Still astride his warhorse, he turned to address the crowd.
"People of the Locust! Inhabitants of Adyll both common and noble! This night in times past you would have marked with fire and heretical prophecy. You would have communed with your filthy demoness with the help of witchcraft, bringing home unholy fires from this very site to invite the cursed unredeemable dead into your homes. At sunset on this equinox, we will purify this nation of the stain of this idolatry with a holy fire!"
Silence hung heavy on the courtyard. Takri glanced at the oracle in the cart and her instructions echoed in his thoughts as she smiled at him.
If you wish to survive among the Locusts, you must act like one... All three young Narim still have a part to play.
And then another voice: Zarinya, the youngest oracle, Take them to her. There is a prophecy to be delivered.
He stepped forward, hoisting the banner high before the familiar call and response poured from his lips like a man possessed.
“One!”
“God!” the assembled members of the Swarm exclaimed.
“One!”
“Man!”
“One!”
“Lord!”
“One!”
“King!”
“One!”
“Swarm!”
“One!”
“LOCUST!”
A satisfied grin spread across Mahleck's face. Not only did this boy bring with him the same sweet wildness of his child bride and the capture of the Zorya witch, but he worshipped Mahleck in a way few beyond Baraz ever had.
Above, Nasreen watched in horror. The first man she experienced true holy joining with, the same man who in the throes of lovemaking who had told her of his love for the Goddess now waved the banner of the tyrant usurper. Takri's words from that day played over in her memory. The Goddess is not dead, wildest of mountain roses. ...She lives within you and within us in this holy joining of bodies. She has not forsaken Her children.
Mahleck again addressed the crowd. "The Lord Prince Takri proved his loyalty to the true God when he brought the Zorya witch to me in the forest where she had enchanted two lesser men. I have rewarded him by bringing him into my holy royal household. All those who choose the path of righteousness shall be elevated in my sight! Takri, bring forth the one who says she speaks with the voice of the demoness!"
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