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 2: A New Name
Irinya was deeper into the catacombs than she had believed possible. The sound of the battering ram and war drums had been left behind several levels ago. Sarcophagi no longer lined the walls as when they had entered the catacombs. Those had given way to neatly stacked bones. Then only bare damp rock. Even the torch sconces were gone.
They were in the bowels of the mountain now where the only sound was the dripping of water. Manah carried a torch but didn’t seem to need it. Irinya was exhausted. She had not spoken a word since they had left the sanctuary. She did not know what was happening or where she was going. Her mother had only told her to hide and follow instructions from Manah and the high priestess. This was her mother’s plan, and she had no part in it. After all, she was still a child. A child who was soon to be an orphan.
The news of her father’s death in battle had come one month ago. For generations, Adyll had thought their land was impenetrable, located on a mountain plateau, surrounded by cliffs. Beyond the cliffs - desert on all sides but one where the ocean waves crashed violently onto a rocky shore. They had been arrogant. Kingdoms all around them had fallen to the armies of the Swarm. The Swarm, who went from one kingdom to the next, overrunning each country they came to, feeding off their lands, enslaving the people. One by one every kingdom had fallen. Soon there was nothing left for the Swarm to take except Adyll.
Now they had swarmed through the secret path from the desert floor up the canyons to the top of the plateau. They took heavy losses along the way, but still found their way to the capital with numbers that far exceeded the armies of Adyll. There were rumors that had even reached Irinya’s sheltered ears that the Locusts’ leader used magic to see what could not be seen. That he was immortal. That he drank blood. That he was a god. Even her mother called him strigoi-viu, a blood drinking monster from the stories old men would tell their grandchildren to frighten them into obedience.
In each town he came to, the Locust King defiled the temples, setting himself up as the lone object of worship. Those who would not bend their knee to him were put to the sword. In each kingdom he conquered, he would kill the king and queen, designating one of his own lieutenants to rule the kingdom in his place before moving on to his next conquest. The royal family’s children were taken hostage. The daughters were married immediately to the tyrant, giving him legitimate claim to the rulership of the kingdom. Males of the royal line were pressed into military service, taken hostage by the tyrant to be trained as his soldiers. He took care to not kill the children. They were too valuable in helping to control the citizens.
There were other rumors as well: that the children in the lands he conquered became possessed by this man, body and soul. They had no will of their own. They became willing to die for the man who killed their parents. But the tyrant had no children of his own. He had no need for them. He would live forever.
Irinya understood why her mother had sent her away. If Irinya survived, she was hope… hope for her people. But right now, she was just a scared little girl stumbling through the bones of her ancestors.
They had been walking for what seemed like hours. The tunnel widened into a large cavern. It was lighter here, a faint glow emanating from the pool of water in the middle of the cave. The pool steamed slightly. The vapor glimmered in the faint light.
“We will stop here. You may rest now, but then we must prepare. We will have to return before dawn,” explained Manah. Irinya began to protest.
“I know this must be hard for you. But, princess, we must follow your mother’s plan. We will have you hidden in plain sight. Would you rather live in this dark place forever? Never seeing the sun? Because that will be what happens if you are not in plain sight when he arrives.”
“I must see him?” Irinya was incredulous.
“Yes. But he must not see you. Sit down. Eat. You must have strength for this. It will be hard, but you must have strength.” He reached into his pockets and produced an apple and some cheese wrapped in a linen cloth. “The water here is clean and safe to drink.” He motioned her toward the pool. She realized she was incredibly thirsty and began to scoop water to her mouth with cupped hands.
“Once you are done eating, wash the tears from your face. Tears are something you can no longer afford to shed. Learn to hide your pain, and your happiness if we ever have it again. You must never attract attention to yourself.”
Irinya took a deep breath and sat back on her heels. “How will we do this?” she asked. “How can I, Irinya, princess of Adyll, hide?” She held out a handful of blonde hair. “How? As soon as anyone sees this they will know who I am no matter how well I shield my expressions.”
“You will be an acolyte for the Lady,” answered Manah. “You will live as the other acolytes do, a holy life, set away from others. You will sacrifice your life to serve. You will shave your head as they do. It is a sign of the removal of pride.” He took the knife from his belt.
“But he will desecrate the temple. He will destroy our Lady just as he has destroyed every other god he has come across,” said Irinya, “Just like he will destroy me.”
“No, he will not,” he said firmly. “The Lady is special. He cannot destroy Her. He cannot possess Her. He cannot do this to you, either. Will he destroy Her holy temple? Yes. Will he command worship of himself? Yes. This does not destroy the Lady. She exists regardless of belief. You will exist regardless of whether anyone knows you exist or not.”
“If he destroys the temple, how can I be an acolyte?” asked Irinya.
“He is a parasite. Like a blood drinking insect. He will use the Temple and its priests and priestesses for his own purposes. The high priestess has already arranged it with him. If she gives him control of the Temple, if she prepares his sacrifices, and if she denounces the holiness of the Lady, he will not touch the people of the temple. You will be one of these people, Irinya.”
“She has already arranged this with him? She is a traitor.”
“She arranged this with him because it was the wish of your mother. Does that make her a traitor?” asked the hermit.
“Why would my mother wish such a thing? To have our Lady’s most sacred place desecrated?” cried Irinya.
“Because your mother is a mother, just as the Lady is. When your father’s armies were defeated in battle and all his allies were destroyed, the Queen knew that the fall of Adyll was inevitable. Yet it didn’t have to be permanent. If you survived, there was hope of defeating him in the future. If you were lost, all was lost. The Lady lives in Her people who are descended from Her. That is Her most sacred place. Now prepare yourself. You are no longer Princess Irinya. You are an acolyte. An acolyte to Our Lady, soon to be an acolyte in the service of the new Lord of this land.”
“It is not of my choosing to do this. But I will to honor my father and mother. What shall I be called, then?”
"When the priestesses are dedicated to The Lady’s service, they choose a new name. You may do so as well,” answered the hermit.
“I will be Aisha, if I am to be life and hope,” she said resolutely.
The old man began the task of cutting away her hair with his blade. “Aisha was the name of the Lady before she ascended into heaven. It is fitting, Aisha, for one who resembles her namesake so much.” Her hair fell in a golden pile around her, and she wept.
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