The carved outer gates of the temple slowly swung open. The Locust King and his honor guard on horseback took no heed that their horses trampled holy ground as they entered. Mahleck sat astride his black warhorse with the Queen balanced in front of him on his saddle. She sat straight and regal. Only her tearstained face and muddied gown betrayed any loss of station. Her two bodyguards followed behind the horse, tied at the wrists with a lead attached to the horse’s saddle. They had been dragged part of the way back to the temple.
“Idolaters!” bellowed Mahleck. “Receive your Queen!”
His men rushed to the entrance to the inner courtyard that housed the sanctuary and pulled open the doors. Mahleck did not bother to dismount, continuing on horseback through the door. The twin bodyguards stumbled after him. Inside, the entire populace of the temple was gathered for morning prayers, seated in groups facing the sanctuary. He cantered through the silent congregation of priests and priestesses in their colored robes, stopping only when he reached the elderly high priestess, who stood in front of the doors to the sanctuary with a small group of warrior priests behind her. Her face drained of color when she saw her sons bound and stumbling behind the horse. She swiftly regained her composure and faced the King of Locusts.
“You stated none of the members of the priesthood would be harmed, my Lord. And yet I see two behind you that have been treated unkindly. Do you intend to keep your word?” she asked.
“I stated that none of your idolatrous… Priesthood,” (He spat the word with disdain) “would be killed. I said nothing about kindness. Kindness is weakness, priestess. You will need to learn this for the truth that it is. Just as you will learn that I am the only true God. Your people will need to be purged of their sins with suffering before they can serve me with righteousness as I deserve to be served. For now, your Queen needs to have words with your people. Call the nobility here to me. I go to pay my respects to the Princess Irinya.”
He dismounted and lifted the Queen from her place in the saddle. She followed him silently into the sanctuary.
The high priestess pulled a dagger from the belt of the nearest priest and ran to her sons, who were kneeling on the ground behind the war horse. Their faces were bruised and their clothes smeared with blood and horse shit. She grabbed the younger son’s bonds as if to cut him free, but he pulled himself away.
“Holy Mother, leave us. He will kill you if you do this. He vowed not to kill any of the priesthood, but if you do this, you are condemning us all to death,” he said. "We must not resist him."
She nodded, then stood up slowly. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
“I believe our pride hurts the most, Mother. The bruises will fade,” said the elder. “We must be strong, Mother. He is more evil than you know. But our Goddess sees and She will repay him for all he has done.”
“May Her peace come upon us all. Thank you, my sons.” She returned to her place with the guards. “Summon the nobility. Inform them if they do not appear before the King their houses will face execution.” The guards departed.
The Locust King. The strigoi-viu. Mahleck. The one the nursemaid told me stories about to scare me into behaving when I was little. He is real. And he has my mother. And he wants me. Aisha’s thoughts tumbled around in her head, one on top of the other, all screaming for attention. Her own body felt numb, but the pain of her thoughts was almost unbearable. I will kill him. I will kill myself. I cannot sit here and let this happen. I cannot move. I cannot die. I cannot live. He will kill us all. Manah lied. The High Priestess betrayed us. My mother betrayed us. There is no hope.
And then, through the numbness, she felt something. The warm softness of Nasreen’s hand enfolded around her own. “Sister, we mustn't be afraid,” Nasreen whispered. “All is not yet lost.”
Aisha nodded silently and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I am Aisha,” she whispered.
“That means life and hope, doesn’t it?” whispered Nasreen. Aisha nodded. “You picked that name for a reason. We all need life and hope now. Don’t give up yet.” She squeezed Aisha’s hand reassuringly. “Let us continue to pray.”
Once inside the sanctuary, Mahleck grabbed the Queen by the back of her hair and wrenched her to the altar where the child’s body lay. “Your Goddess did nothing to protect you, woman. Nothing. Just as you did nothing to help your own daughter. I would have made her a queen, and she would have wanted for nothing. But you didn’t heed my warning, and now your daughter is dead. Just like your filthy goddess. Dead.”
He threw her to the floor in front of the maiden's corpse and the statue of the Goddess. “Bow down before your idol! Prostrate yourself before her! She cannot move, cannot speak. She is silent. If she is alive, she must be the foulest bitch in the heavens and the earth.” He spat at the statue, then said with disgust, “Lady, Goddess, Mother of us all… Bitch. Slut. Disease ridden whore! Demoness, know that I am the one who takes your children away from you. I am the one you hide from. I have always had the power to destroy and control! You are nothing compared to what I am, what I have become. I am God. The ONE God!"
He turned his attention back to Queen Mila as she stood up from the place where he had thrown her and continued his tirade. This time he addressed her directly instead of the Goddess. "Even if I cannot possess your daughter, I will possess your precious country. Your mountains and rivers are mine. Your fields, your crops, your livestock. Even your Goddess's children are mine to do with as I wish. They will serve me as God. They will learn to curse you and your Goddess for abandoning them. They will give me their children as tribute. I will make this city my capital, and I will never leave it. All that was yours is now mine. Queen Mila, prostrate yourself before the True God of this Land!”
She did, cowering before him as he expected.
He does not know that a commoner lies before him on this altar. Let this remain so, Lady. Please. Save my child, she prayed.
A clatter of hoof beats on stone came from outside the sanctuary, and a moment later a thin man dressed from head to foot in flowing black silk robes entered and stood just within the door with his head bowed. “My King. You summoned me.”
“Yes, Vizier Baraz. You will supervise the occupation of the Temple. Destroy every vestige of this filthy idolatry. Preserve only this statue for my personal use.”
“Yes, my God and King. You are most gracious to your humble servant. It shall be done as you command,” said Baraz, bowing low again. His face was sharp featured and cruel, a deep intelligence behind his eyes.
“And prepare the Princess Irinya for burial in the royal crypt.”
“Of course. My deepest sympathies, my Lord, on the loss of your bride.” His advisor bowed again.
Mahleck’s attention returned to the Queen. “Get up, woman. We go to address your people.”
“You will keep your word?”
“I am God. My word is law.” He offered her his hand, which she took. “I have called servants to help you dress. Your current appearance is not becoming a woman of your rank.”