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 20: Manah and the Priestess
Work continued the next day as usual. Nasreen was sent to the brothel to train with the older women. Aisha was sent to work preparing parchment for the scribes, a foul-smelling process that involved soaking sheep skins in urine, then stretching and scraping the any remaining flesh. She worked on the downwind side of the temple to keep the stench from contaminating the rest of the complex. Aisha was thankful for the task as the the old hag - formerly known as the high priestess - had decided to use another girl as her Eyes during the parchment preparation as having lost her sight heightened her other senses including her sense of smell.
From Aisha's vantage point on the temple wall walkway, she spied the temple eunuchs scrubbing the courtyard floor below. The Locust's priests must have removed the corpses of the street people from the previous evening, as they were not present when the women arose to begin their daily work. The women whispered among themselves about the disappearance of the street people, but the high priestess had told them that the young ones were now serving at the palace and the rest had left the temple. The women knew this to be untrue, judging by the pools of blood in the courtyard, but they said nothing to the old woman out of respect for her position. All except Aisha believed Baraz had lied to the high priestess and in her blindness she believed him.
Aisha knew the truth better than any of them but she remained quiet. The metallic smell of the bloodshed from the night before mixed in her nostrils with the stench of the urine soaked sheepskin and the sweet jasmine that grew on the temple walls. The overpowering scents in combination with her guilt and blood-drenched memories made her want to retch. She continued to scrape the bits of flesh from the sheepskins with her knife. At least the evil old woman wasn’t here to torture her.
Aisha became engrossed in her task, pushing all her frustration into scraping the skins. She worked for hours in the sun, not pausing even to sip from the skin of water next to her. The Locust King had spoken of righteousness, of penance for sins. She was guilty. Guilty of all the lives taken – her mother, her father, the street people. The task at hand wasn’t horrible enough to cleanse her of their blood.
The sound of bleating sheep and goats drifted to her from the other side of the wall. The herds were being brought to the temple for shearing and slaughter, as Baraz commanded. The meat would be distributed to the army and the wool sold at market. Shepherds and shepherdesses in simple woolen tunics accompanied their flocks. The women wore veils that covered their eyes, exposing only their mouths. These were proud Adyllians, widely respected for their craft. The shepherds maintained the lifestyle of the first people of this land, the ones to whom the Lady gave her child to raise and keep safe. They lived in the open with their flocks, taking shelter in the caves that riddled the mountainside only when the worst storms came. One of them played his pipes as they gathered the sheep into the courtyard for inspection by the new high priest. It was a mournful tune. Aisha recalled the words of the song:
She sprang from the heart of the earth
Ocean waves embraced her birth
Our Lady, beautiful Lady
Sacred and blessed, her heart came to rest
Her love was greater than her lovers
She knelt alone encased in stone
But now she flies with the eagles.
Our Lady, beautiful Lady.
The piper stopped his piping when Baraz came out to inspect the flocks. If Baraz had known the words of the song, he would have seized the piper and there would be more blood for the temple eunuchs to clean from the courtyard. Aisha knew the shepherds wouldn’t bow their knee as easily as the city people.
She smiled and took a drink from the water skin. The courtyard on the other side was clean now. She went back to scraping the skin, humming the piper’s song to herself.
She stopped when a shadow came over her work. She looked up, praying it was not a priest here to harass her, or worse yet, a summons back to serve as the high priestess’s Eyes. It was neither. Manah stood before her with an earthen jug in one hand and in the other a bundle of raw sheepskins. He tossed them at her feet.
“Manah!” she said and stood as if to embrace him.
He quickly thrust the earthen jug into her outstretched hands and looked to see if anyone was watching. He shook his head “no”.
“I was told to bring these skins and leeches to you,” he said gruffly, winking at her.
“Oh, Manah. I am so glad you are here,” she whispered.
“I have come to check on you. I do have a vow to keep, you know?” he said. He made a show of unbinding the sheepskins and laying them in the sun. “I am pleased to see you survived, child.”
“And I am pleased to see you are still alive as well,” Aisha replied, going back to scraping the hides.
“What has happened here since that first night?” he asked. “I have remained with the shepherds in the caves. They know me and agreed to hide me.”
“Much has happened,” she said, then explained everything that had befallen the city – the funeral, her mother’s death, the subjugation of the women, and the sacrifice of the street people. Manah listened with a furrowed brow.
“It is worse than I feared it would be,” he said. “The Holy Mother tells me you have been difficult to work with, that you do not wish to serve as you have been asked. Is this so?”
“I do not wish to sacrifice the children of the Lady to Mahleck, if that is what you mean,” she answered. “The Holy Mother no longer believes in the Goddess, or in the sanctity of Her children’s lives – unless it is her own or those she deems worthy.”
“She made a vow, Aisha. A vow to prepare the sacrifices for this man. I am sure she has reason to ask for you to participate in this, although I do not necessarily agree. She loves the people of the temple as a mother does her children. She is going to protect them at any cost,” chided Manah. “I will speak with her about this. Surely you can be spared from being a part of this atrocity.”
Manah stood from where he had laid the skins.
“She hates me, Manah.”
“She does not hate you, child,” said Manah. “Think of what she had to sacrifice to keep you alive. Such a thing is not done out of hate.”
“Such a thing causes her to hate,” said Aisha.
“I will speak with her,” said Manah. “Be safe, child of the Lady.”
He turned his back and walked away, leaving Aisha to her work. The bleating of the sheep retreated, but she could hear the notes of the piper again as the shepherds left the temple.
Manah came upon the high priestess as she sat in the temple gardens with the other young girl who served as her Eyes. She turned to him when he approached.
“Ah, you come back again, old man. I thought our business had been completed. You reek of sheep,” she said.
“I am but a lowly shepherd. I am going to smell of sheep, Holy Mother,” said Manah. “May I discuss something with you?”
She nodded. “Eyes, you may leave. Go pick some fruit. I desire something sweet.”
The girl left and headed towards the edge of the garden where fruit trees grew.
“Speak, sheep man. I am tired, so be quick about it.”
“It is about the girl Aisha,” he said.
“Of course it is about the girl,” she replied. “I have told you of the misery she caused us. She is reckless and weak.”
“Yes, you told me of this earlier, and I have spoken with her. She told me about what happened last night in the courtyard. That you brought her to witness the events there. Is this true, Holy Mother?”
“It is true. She needed to see the pain of the people,” answered the old woman.
“Why? She is too young to understand the purpose of sacrificing a few so that the many might live,” said Manah. "Pragmatism is not for the young."
“She needed to understand the seriousness of her actions. She is spoiled.” answered the priestess.
“I was going to suggest that if you think she is too much of a risk here at the Temple, you could send her to the mountains to serve with the herdsmen. This way she would be away from where she can cause you any more distress,” said Manah.
“No. She stays here where I know what it is she does at every moment.”
“As you wish, holy mother. But if you should change your mind… I will leave you now.”
“Thank you, shepherd.”
Manah made his way out of the Temple and joined the rest of the herdsmen as they brought the remainder of their flocks back to the mountainside, wondering if he should have forced the issue with the old priestess. But she was the last of the high priestesses of the Lady, and he would always obey the wishes of those holy women.
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