"Archers! Shoot those birds!" bellowed Mahleck as the crowd erupted in chaos.
In their panic to flee the temple grounds, the people pressed against one another, causing even the trained men of the Swarm to fall into disarray. By the time the archers nocked arrows, the birds and their macabre prizes had disappeared into the western night sky.
Mahleck cursed under his breath as his soldiers struggled to keep the crowd under control. Baraz stepped forward and touched his God's shoulder, motioning him to enter the sanctuary.
"Lord Prince Takri, come," said Mahleck. "We will wait this out inside."
Takri followed, hesitating only a moment before stepping inside. The sanctuary of the Lady was forbidden ground for any male not employed by the Temple. In the days before Mahleck, this action would have been sacrilege.
The room inside was smaller than Takri had imagined it. No trace of the Lady remained. Just a small smoke-filled room, hot from charcoal filled braziers that burned in every corner. Mahleck and Baraz whispered together at the far end of the room. Takri hung back, unsure of his place inside the holy building.
"We should kill all of them, every person who witnessed this devilry!" hissed Baraz.
"If we kill all of them, I will be left ruling over a land filled with nothing but corpses," said Mahleck. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Then how shall we keep belief in the demoness' cult from spreading? You heard her oracle. She has told them the princess is alive. Anyone with ears to hear, they all know!" said Baraz. "How do I explain what we just saw?"
"Are you saying the false demoness has more power than the God-Among-Men, Baraz?" Mahleck asked. "If you have lost your faith, maybe I need to think about raising up a new high priest." He turned and looked towards Takri, and a smile spread across his face. The young warrior stood with his back towards the two men, staring out the small window in the sanctuary door with his hand on his sword.
"There is no need, my Lord and God. I live only to serve you. Forgive me," pleaded Baraz.
"Of course, Baraz," said Mahleck. "You will be successful in stamping out this heresy."
"Thank you for your mercy. I am but a sinner," groveled Baraz.
Mahleck turned his gaze back to the priest. "What were the words she said?"
"That the Blood of the Goddess lives among them. Her love lives below them. That her blood will destroy the destroyer," said Baraz. "I am sure there are records we can find in the library that can explain these lies spoken by the witch."
"Lord Prince Takri," called Mahleck across the room. "You were born of the desert people who also worshipped at this temple, were you not?"
Takri turned to face the king. "Yes, sire."
"Join us," invited Mahleck. "You do not need to guard us against the citizenry. We have nothing to fear."
Takri approached the two other men. Mahleck clapped him on his shoulder in welcome. Baraz eyed him with outright disdain until Mahleck turned in his direction.
"Baraz and I were just speaking about the role of the oracle witches in Adyllian culture. These misguided people believed their foolish prophecies to be the words of their whore goddess. Do you remember these traditions?"
Takri froze for a moment. Memories of every past equinox, both spring and autumn flooded his mind. The Days of Between where day and night reigned equally danced in front of him like the figures in the fire. He had received his own words from Zora. To survive among the Locusts, you must act like one.
"In the dark times before you came to liberate us, my tribe would make a pilgrimage up the mountain to worship at the demoness' temple at every equinox and solstice unless weather made the way impassible. The priestesses called the equinoxes the Days of Between. On those days, the oracles spoke with the voice of the demoness, and the Holy Mother would interpret the prophecy for the assembled people" answered Takri.
"I believe the young prince has provided us with a solution where you were unable to, priest. Perhaps you are too immersed in your books to ask the right questions," said Mahleck. "We shall bring the blind bitch forth. She will address the people and tell them it was an illusion. Or witchcraft. Whatever you think is best, Baraz. For now, we wait until the crowd has been subdued."
Nasreen watched Takri enter the sanctuary with Mahleck and the high priest across the chaos below. Aisha pulled at her sleeve. "Nasreen, we must go. The other women say the only safe place is the women's quarters. We can wait there until the Swarm brings the crowd under control. Come on!"
Nasreen shook herself free from her stupor. "Of course, Aisha. It is not safe here."
Below them, the Swarm beat any citizen who came within arm’s reach. Some bystanders had been trampled by the panicked mob. Nasreen took one more look at the sanctuary doors before following Aisha and the other women out of the classroom and down the corridors to the women's dormitory. There they found the Holy Mother weeping on her knees next to her cot. Nasreen and Aisha could still hear the battle that waged in the courtyard outside as some of the populace attempted to flee while others fought with the soldiers of the Swarm.
"Holy Mother, what should we do? Should we fight or hide?" asked one of the former priestesses.
"Do as you will. I am no longer holy or a mother," said the old woman.
The procuress who oversaw the brothel turned towards the frightened women. "She is right. She is not holy. She has betrayed all of us. You heard the words of the oracle. She told us the destroyer will be destroyed. That the Blood of the Goddess lives among us! We should fight!"
"For now, we should bar the door," said another of the older women. "The Goddess never desires the bloodshed of her children. Let us discuss our next course of action."
"Agreed," said the procuress. "All of you who are of strong body, push anything heavy you can find against the doors."
Aisha ran to her cot to secure the scroll from where it had been hidden, shoving it within her robe, and then joined the others in barricading the doors from intruders, whether that be Locusts or a citizen desiring justice from the former Holy Mother. From outside, cries of rebellion could be heard as the women settled onto the floor. Nasreen and Aisha leaned against each other.
"Death to the usurper!"
"Destroy the destoyer!"
"The Blood lives! She lives!"
"Who is young and strong enough to climb up to the windows and report on what is happening in the courtyard below?" asked the procuress.
Aisha slid the scroll to Nasreen. "Keep this hidden," she whispered, then turned to the procuress. "I can do it."
"Very well, young bookmaker," said the procuress. "Let us find you a ladder, and you can serve as eyes for all of us."