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 Flower Chapter 95: Two Days Chapter 96: Small Comforts Chapter 97: Heroes Chapter 98: Fire, Water, and Wax Chapter 99: Beneath the Temple Chapter 100: The Way of Eagles Chapter 101: The Gallu Chapter 102: The Cast Off Chapter 103: The Empty Bed Chapter 104: If It Is Her Will Chapter 105: Hunger Chapter 106: The Strigoi-Viu's Gift Chapter 107: Pennyroyal Chapter 108: Forgiveness Chapter 109: Fragile Chapter 110: Another Lord Prince Chapter 111: Divine Intervention Chapter 112: Chance to Live Chapter 113: Accusations Chapter 114: NegotiationsChapter 113: Accusations
Dasha shook with the chills of a fever after a day and night in the damp cold of the palace dungeon. Her Eyes did what she could to help ease her mentor's discomfort, wrapping the older woman in her own cloak, and giving her all of her rations and water.
"Why do you care for her, after she has done such horrible things, girl?" asked Jul. "You are giving the woman who tricked you into poisoning your holy sister your own food and drink. Why? She is evil, a murderess who is bringing death to both you and I for something she herself wrought!"
"She did not trick me," answered the girl. "I knew what I was doing, and the risk if I was caught. I chose this!"
"Who told you to give the girl the herb?" said Jul. "Who planted it in your mind? It wasn't your idea. It was hers. Let her reap her consequences without the comfort of your blessing."
"It doesn't matter Jul," whispered the Holy Mother. "We will all die at the hands of the Locusts. Leave the girl alone."
"It does matter," said Jul. "This is an evil you wrought, and now she and I will suffer the consequences of your need to control everything around you. Girl, she is using you. She even took your name away and calls you by the body part you replace. Can't you see it? Even now, she plays at being ill to gain your sympathy. She plays her games, but it is always someone else who suffers."
Dasha took a deep, wracking breath and sat upright. "You have no right to speak ill of me. I am the last of the Holy Mothers. No right..."
"How strange it is that the woman who bears the title 'Holy Mother' has no living children who care enough to see her," mused the cook. "Are not Floryan and Luka both in the palace? Surely they know you are here. And yet they do not come."
"My sons are no concern of yours," said the old woman. "If they could come, I know they would be here."
"Are you sure?" scoffed Jul.
The scrape of a metal door on the stone floor and heavy bootsteps interrupted the women's arguing. The Holy Mother lay back down on the floor, shuddering with chills from the fever as the jailer's key turned in the lock.
"What do you want?" the Eyes asked, voice shaking.
"The old woman." The hulking man pushed open the door. "I don't need you, girl. Get out of my way."
"I must go with her," said the Eyes. "She is taken ill, and she is blind. She needs me to guide her."
"She may be blind, but I'm not," laughed the jailer. "My orders are her alone." He threw the pile of garments off the old woman and picked her up, slinging her over one shoulder.
The younger girl clung to his arm, trying desperately to keep him from taking her mentor. "Please, let me come with her. Please. I will do anything... I have never laid with a man. I would give myself to you if you let me come with her."
The jailer threw her off him and laughed. "There is nothing you can offer me that I would want, girl. The God-King took those pieces long before he brought me here. Don't you know that no keeper of women in the Locust's empire is an intact man?"
She recoiled in horror as he locked the door and walked back down the row of cells, the Holy Mother dangling behind him.
Fevered images of the last time she saw her sons swam in Dasha's memory as she was carried away. Her boys, beautiful and strong, kneeling in the courtyard of the temple, bruised and battered, horse excrement smearing their white and silver robes. She had been so proud of them in that moment. Just as she had when they were chosen by the Queen to be her personal bodyguards. And then the image of them as children, defiant and disrespectful. Of Floryan and his lover plotting behind her back, when he should have been pursuing a union which would have given her a granddaughter, a true heir. They had always been willful, but she never thought they would desert her entirely. She was owed more than that. After all, she was their mother.
The jailer put her down unceremoniously on a straw covered floor and then left the room, closing and latching the door closed behind him. The air felt colder and drier here than in the cells below, and she could smell snow from the outside on the draft from an open window. She crawled until she felt a wall, where she stopped, exhausted. She pulled herself upright to lean against it, and arranged her clothing in a more dignified fashion. And then she waited.
She woke coughing to the scent of wine and leather, and a faint smell of blood mixing in the cold from outside.
Mahleck.
"I am glad you are awake, Heresiarch, although it is hard to tell since you have no eyes to open or close," said Mahleck.
His voice seemed impossibly close even though she felt no warmth from his body in the cold air.
She choked out the words, "My God and King, I would prostrate myself, but I have taken ill."
"It must be difficult to be old and blind, much less infirm," said Mahleck. "Especially one so used to power, even if it was in service to a false goddess. I imagine the helplessness would be unbearable."
"Please forgive your loyal servant," said the Holy Mother. "It is my sin and I bear the burden of my heresy to be stricken so. Your punishment was just."
"Do you believe that?" asked Mahleck. She heard the creak of leather as he stood up. "You say you serve me, but your own women say you poisoned my priest."
"I did not poison anyone," said the old woman, her voice cracking. "It is by your mercy alone that I live. Why would I poison your priest?"
Find your way!
Resources
WHO WE ARE
LEGAL
Get the news
Listen to our Podcast
Our Allies
