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: ForgivenessChapter 108: Forgiveness
Nasreen floated in the warm black of exhaustion beyond measure.
“Nasreen, please wake up, please...”
I know this voice.
Takri.
My love.
We were going somewhere together. With little Aisha.
Another sensation infiltrated the darkness. Someone’s cold fingers wrapped around her own. Warm tears, and sobbing breath on her hands.
What will little Aisha do if I slipped into the black?
I am so tired.
“Lady, please bring her back to us.” Aisha’s whispered prayer cut through the veil between Nasreen and the world of the living. “I cannot live without her.”
Nasreen’s eyelids felt as if they were weighed down, but she forced them open. Firelight played on the ceiling above her. To her left she felt more tears on her hand. She let her head fall toward the sobbing.
“Aisha..?”
“Nasreen!” Aisha’s tears changed from sadness and fear to joy as she heard her friend’s voice.
Takri knelt at her other side. He choked back his own tears as he looked at his love, pale as the snow outside. Shadows gathered under her dark eyes. Her cracked lips upturned as she caught sight of him. “Takri...”
“My love,” he cried. “I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone.”
“I am so tired,” she whispered. “So very tired.”
The Procuress pushed Takri to the side to examine her charge, feeling her neck for her pulse as Nasreen’s eyes began to close once again. “No, Nasreen. You need to stay awake for a while. You can sleep as soon as you drink and eat a bit of food. Don’t sit up yet. Your Lord Prince can feed you where you lie. It is the least he can do.”
Takri returned to his place next to Nasreen with a cup of water which he held to her lips. She managed a few sips before laying her head back down in exhaustion. “I don’t know if I can eat.”
“It is only some gruel. And I will not allow you to sleep until you eat a few bites.” The Procuress handed Takri the bowl and spoon. “Make her eat. She has lost too much blood and must replenish it. We don’t have much, but anything will help.”
“What kind of food would help?” asked Takri. “I can get whatever she needs from the palace.”
“Greens, oranges, and meat,” said the Procuress. “And anything else she would eat.”
“I have cheese,” said Aisha. “She loves cheese.”
“I will bring that and more.” Takri spooned a small bite into Nasreen’s mouth. “Aisha can fetch it. She will know where to find the food I leave. The palace has so much they will never know if some goes missing.”
“Lord Prince,” said the Procuress. “I have misjudged you. And for that, I am sorry. You are not a cruel man like your fellow Locusts. But you know you cannot stay here for long.”
“Leave me alone with her for a few moments,” said Takri. “It is all I ask of you.”
The Procuress nodded and motioned for Aisha to follow her. “Go get your cheese, little bookmaker. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Aisha scurried off to retrieve the contraband cheese from under her pallet, but she froze when she heard the door open, and the soldiers snap to attention. Mahleck stood in the doorway surveying the women with open distain. A shadow darkened his face when his eyes settled on Takri feeding spoonfuls of porridge to Nasreen in front of the fire. The Lord Prince seemed oblivious to his presence.
“Find the cook who prepared the stew and take her into custody,” commanded Mahleck. Soldiers seized Jul and forced her out the room. “Lord Prince, you are with me. Now.”
Takri reluctantly out down the bowl of gruel and joined his master in the doorway. “Forgive me, my God and King.”
Mahleck dropped his voice to a whisper. “You will not dishonor yourself among women like this ever again. You are not a nursemaid. You are a member of the royal house, a Lord Prince, and you would do well to remember the honor I have bestowed upon you.”
Takri nodded in submission. “I understand. It will not happen again.”
Mahleck turned and walked out the door, leaving Takri hurrying to catch up. “If I find you have seen that whore again, I will give her to the lowest ranks of my soldiers to do with as they please before they kill her. And you will live long enough to watch before you die at my hands.”
“I understand, sire.”
Mahleck stopped in his tracks. “I do not believe you do. You flouted my divine instructions. Your carelessness with this whore led to what happened here today. Baraz’s poisoning is the result of your disobedience to my divine authority.”
Takri fell to one knee in submission before the King, his mind racing at the thought of Nasreen suffering even further. “Please forgive me, I did not understand what I was doing. Your will is my will. I beg of you, please forgive me.”
“Stand up, Lord Prince. It is not seemly that you would debase yourself like this, even before me.”
Takri looked up to find Mahleck towering over him with an almost paternal smile upon his face. He opened his arms to Takri and embraced him, feeling the Narim’s strong body against his own, the scent of young love overlaid with terror intoxicating his senses.
Takri struggled to keep his breath even and slow inside the strigoi-viu's cold embrace. If he wanted me dead, I would already be dead. Show him you trust him, that you are unafraid. Breathe.
Mahleck sighed heavily as he felt the younger man relax in his arms. He turned his head towards Takri’s neck, watching his pulse slow in the artery below his ear, the smell of his blood just below the surface so sweetly familiar, like that of his child-bride... The sweet untamed wildness of the desert.
“I forgive you.”
Takri felt the words whispered against his ear and his mouth turn dry before Mahleck released him, clapping him on the shoulder as if nothing had happened.
“You Narim have such passion in your blood! How could I not forgive you?”
Takri felt his heart racing in his chest, like a rabbit being toyed with by a desert cat. He forced himself to look Mahleck in the eye. “Thank you, my God and King. I will endeavor to obey your every command in the future. My flesh was weak, and I am young.”
Mahleck smiled, and the two men returned to walking back to their horses in the courtyard. “Your cousin Zayaan will be joining us soon. I wonder if his passions flare as much as yours?”
“Zayaan and I are very different, my King,” said Takri. “His wit and cunning far surpass my own. He is more like his sister than he is like me.”
“I find that hard to believe, Lord Prince.” Mahleck mounted his horse. “How can you compare your wit to a mute woman? You do yourself a disservice.”
“But I cannot play music as she does,” said Takri. “I am a good fighter and hunter, but Zayaan sees the world in a way I cannot. I may be stronger in body, but they are stronger in mind.”
“Yet somehow you left the camp before your cousin,” said Mahleck. “And became the Lord Prince, capturing the Zora and the heart of the entire land. If your cousin is greater than you, then I cannot wait to meet him.”
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