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 BreathChapter 18: Sacrifice of the New Moon
Aisha led the old priestess down the dark hallways to the classroom that overlooked the temple courtyard.
"Stay away from the windows and keep to the shadows. We must remain hidden," said the old woman. “There are times when it is a blessing to be unable to see, daughter. You shall be my eyes and look upon the feast of the Locust. We shall both bear witness to what our sins have wrought.”
Aisha stood at the edge of one of the huge windows, peering down at the festivities below. At the far end of the courtyard, the white robed street people knelt in submission to their captors, while those in brown - the weak, old, and infirm - clung together in front of the door to the sanctuary in front of which a makeshift altar had been erected. Baraz stood behind it, dressed in a leather loincloth, his skeletal frame taut with excitement.
Priests of the Locust pulled open the gates of the temple. The clatter of hooves on flagstones echoed from the walls of the courtyard. Soldiers forced all the street people to the ground in obeisance, as they bowed their own heads. Baraz lowered himself to one knee, but kept his head erect as his God-King rode into his temple astride his black warhorse. The God Among Men had arrived for his tribute.
Mahleck dismounted from his horse in front of the altar. A waiting soldier took the reins from his hands and led the beast out of the courtyard. Baraz remained kneeling until other priests brought forth an ornately carved ebony chair. Mahleck sat down on his makeshift throne and motioned for his high priest to continue.
Baraz let out a cry, “My Lord and God, my King, accept this sacrifice at my hands. May this blood cleanse this place and make it holy, a place worthy of your presence as you walk among men!”
The oldest of the street people was pulled from the crowd, a woman bent with age and crippled. The soldiers dragged her onto the altar where they held her down. Her head dangled from the edge of the altar closest to the Locust King. She barely struggled as the High Priest cut her throat with the ceremonial knife. Two priests, stripped to the waist, brought a large basin to collect the spilt blood which they poured upon Baraz, and then upon the door to the sanctuary. The street people cried out in horror, but did not run or struggle as each one was brought to the altar. Soon the steps ran red with spilled blood.
“Holy Mother, they are being slaughtered! Why do they not run? Why do they not fight?” asked Aisha in a frantic whisper.
“The food and wine we gave them, Aisha. It was drugged. It is a small kindness, don’t you think?” answered the old woman.
“I helped make this happen. I prepared these people for sacrifice. At your command,” Aisha turned to face the high priestess.
“Yes. And you did well. This is the lesson, daughter. The weak are easily swayed and easily sacrificed. Be mindful of this. You may think you are serving others, when you are only serving yourself. Here you were, a princess of Adyll, picking lice from a poor man’s head, giving the dregs of society the finest wine and food while they sang praises to their murderous Locust King. And you told yourself you were so humble while you served them. Oh, so humble! You were learning a great spiritual truth from your service to these ungrateful wretches! The lesson is a simple one, princess," the old woman's voice cracked with emotion and guilt. "The lesson is that our Goddess has left us. And there is no hope.”
Below them, one of the young victims in white tried to break free from his captors as his mother was led towards the altar. He was quickly subdued by the Temple soldiers and forced back with the others where his sister held him.
“What of the others? The ones in white? Are they to die, as well?” asked Aisha.
“They will be spared this day. They are the strigoi-viu’s own special victims for him alone to kill as he wishes. They are his tribute. From this day forward it will be our duty to prepare his sacrifices at his appointed times. The young, the strong he claims for his own. And as long as we provide them, he will not take us. Do you understand, Aisha?”
Aisha nodded. “We bring others to the slaughter so that we will be spared. This is an evil thing for someone who took the vows you did! How can you prepare this sacrifice of your own people? Even if you believe the Lady is gone, how can you do this?”
“I do this because your mother convinced me that saving you would be best for us all. And now I must do it, no matter how evil it is. No matter how I despise you. For if I do not do it, everything I love will die. My sons. My family. The people of the temple. And is it not better for the lowest of us die so that the best of us might survive? Do not presume to judge me, child. I would turn you over to the Locusts in an instant if I thought it would not bring destruction to the people of the temple. I no longer bear any love in my heart for your bloodline - descended from a goddess who abandoned her people.”
“I will not help you prepare these innocents for torture and death at the hands of the strigoi-viu,” said Aisha.
“Spoken like the proud, sheltered, naïve princess you are. When the time comes, you will help me to select the people to be given to this God-King,” said the old woman. “You will. Just as I will. And you will hate yourself. As I hate myself. But you will survive.”
“I cannot do this thing, Holy Mother.”
“When the time comes… when the time comes. I’m sure that the hundred or so street people he takes back with him to the castle will last for some time. Now, take me back to the dormitory. I need to rest.”
Aisha took the woman’s hand and placed it on her shoulder, and led her back to the women’s quarters. She did not know how she could refuse to participate in this evil and survive. But more importantly, how could she refuse and keep the others safe?
Once the screams from outside had stopped and all the women finally laid down to sleep, Nasreen asked Aisha what she saw with the priestess. Aisha refused to answer.
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