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 DaysChapter 23 The Price of Betrayal
"Water-bearers! You showed no mercy. You acted in a way that befits a Locust. You purified the weakness from our camp. You should be proud this day!" said the commander, rising from his seat.
The initiation ceremony was complete. The Adyllian boys were sent to the healers' tents for treatment of wounds. The commander had called Zayaan, Takri, and the other water-bearers to feast with him and the officers outside his tent in celebration. The two cousins were seated next to one another at the table, but neither dared to speak out loud.
"From this moment on, you shall be considered full members of the Swarm,” the commander droned on. “Locusts act as one being. Without thought. Without question. They consume. They destroy. They leave nothing behind them but bare ground, for this is their due. This is your due, and your reward!"
The commander gestured to the table before them, loaded with roasted meats and flatbread. Fruit brought from Adyllian orchards sat in silver dishes along the table. Flagons of fine Adyllian wine were passed down the table to each guest. This was the first real meal the water-bearers had seen since they arrived in the camp. Both Takri and Zayaan were hardened by the camp diet of grains boiled in broth and stagnant water.
Takri glanced at his cousin and recognized the look of haggard determination, and it frightened him. Their time with the Swarm had forced them both to do things to keep themselves alive. But Takri was not like his cousin. Zayaan struggled to hide how much he detested the role he had to play. With Takri the deception came easier, but the ease with which he found himself torturing the young Adyllian nobles was terrifying. In the desert camp among the Narim, Takri was the prankster who played tricks on the younger children, but he was also the one who knew a scraped knee could be soothed by blowing on it. He taught the younger ones where to find the sweetest desert fruit. He taught Zayaan how to string a bow and wrestle. Now, Takri hoped the betrayal of his cousin at their own initiation a year ago had not destroyed Zayaan's idealism.
Takri's stomach growled. Zayaan reached for his glass of wine, making a face at the acrid taste. Desert heat over a week's travel from Adyll had soured it. At the head of the table, the commander laughed and drank deeply from his cup.
"Zayaan, I see you have no experience with the drinks of nobility," said the commander. "After all, you come from such a primitive people, surviving like rats on the edges of the desert. I am sure the taste surprises you. You will grow used to it with time."
Zayaan nodded and remained silent. Argument would only have him trapped in the camp longer. Instead, he focused his anger on the food in front of him, ripping the flatbread into pieces and using one to scoop up a fatty piece of meat.
Takri was careful to keep his face impassive as he drank the vinegary wine from his flagon. He realized soon after their initiation that he did not want the attention of any of the officers. It was better to go unnoticed in the camp.
"Zayaan, I believe you are the only one at the table with a scarred face. You have come far since the day of your initiation when you were struck dumb with fear," said the commander. "Do you remember that day? Tonight, at the fire, I saw a man in you for the very first time!"
"Thank you, sir," said Zayaan, trying to swallow his food.
The night they arrived in camp as prisoners a year ago was almost a blur, but there was one moment that was clear as mountain water in Takri’s mind. The moment the strigoi-viu asked them who was weaker. Zayaan had gone mute in the moment, refusing or unable to talk, Takri was not sure. It was only when they had been threatened with death Takri spoke and pointed to Zayaan as the weaker of the two. He had seen enough of his people killed, and Mahleck would have laughed and burned them both if Takri had volunteered. Takri made the choice to accuse his cousin. Better that than death for both.
"What was it like, being the water-bearer instead of the one being marked?" asked Zayaan's captain from across the table. "I remember pouring the water on your face, and how you screamed for your mother. Now you have done the same, and the commander calls you a man."
Fighting was not an option for the two young men that night a year ago. The strigoi-viu Mahleck who led the Swarm could not be killed. The Swarm itself was so vast that as soon as one was killed, two more sprang up to take his place. When the Narim were overrun by the Swarm, Takri saw his father engage the Locust King in close combat. He saw with his own eyes his father run the man through with his spear, and then how Mahleck had pulled it from his own chest. Mahleck used the same spear to kill his father. They could not win. Even after retreating to the cliff caves, the Swarm followed. The Adyllian King arrived too late to save any of the Narim.
Mahleck ordered the death of all adults of their tribe, and all children under the age of twelve. They had fought too well, both men and women. The children were only a liability. In the Locust King's eyes, Lilua was old enough to be married. Takri and Zayaan were of age to be trained as soldiers. Takri's last memory of the camp was Lilua draped in red silks, her eyes covered, being bound to Mahleck with the silken cord of marriage, and Zayaan launching himself at Mahleck with a knife stolen from a guard. Zayaan did not get close enough to even scratch the strigoi-viu before he was brought down by the royal guard. This night around the fire was the closest Takri had been to Zayaan since their own initiation later that night a year previous as the two had been kept on opposite ends of the sprawling camp. They had been unable to even communicate with the hand signals common to all desert traders.
Aaysha, grant us our revenge, prayed Takri. And forgive us for what we must do to attain it.
"I remember that night, Captain," said Zayaan. "I am honored to be able to provide service to the Locust."
"But did you enjoy it?" asked the captain. "Did you enjoy seeing the blisters as they formed on their soft skin? Because I did watching you."
Under the table, Takri could see Zayaan was bouncing his knee up and down at a rapid pace, something he had seen his cousin do when they were young. Zayaan was about to lose his temper. Takri nudged his knee with his own and signed under the table, Stop, calm yourself. I will handle this.
I don't need your help, gestured Zayaan.
"I am sure my cousin felt as I did," interrupted Takri aloud. "It was satisfying, like watching fat render from a roasting animal."
"Let him speak," said the captain. "I want to hear his own words."
"I am thankful to have been chosen," said Zayaan. "I am sure the Adyllian recruits will also know one day that they have been chosen for something greater as they serve the Locust."
"But did you enjoy it?" asked the captain.
"Yes," said Zayaan, looking down at his lap and rubbing his palms on his legs.
"Good. Because you will be helping me rid these Adyllian recruits of any stain of weakness in the coming year. The commander has chosen you to remain in camp to assist me."
Takri inhaled sharply. Beside him, Zayaan momentarily balled his hands into fists, then spread his fingers wide, placing them on his lap.
"I am at your disposal, sir," said Zayaan.
"Always so formal," said the commander. "You and your desert ways. Lod, Jacu, Oretu, Pelon, and Takri, you will be heading to the Adyllian capital in three moon's time. What delights await you in the palace! Women, food, wine, hunting in the God-King's own forests! You have truly been blessed."
Takri looked at his cousin, who sat impassively at his side. A cheer went up from their fellow water bearers.
I will find her, signed Takri under the table.
Zayaan did not respond.
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