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 DesireChapter 67: The Tea Maker
Zayaan stood, tea in hand, listening by the thick curtain separating the commander's sleeping quarters from the rest of his tent. He had learned to wait for the correct moment to enter. The commander preferred his tea served to him in bed, as part of his morning ritual.
After a few moments and some muffled grunting, one of the younger Adyllian recruits slipped from between the curtains. He shamefully glanced at Zayaan on his way out of the tent. Zayaan did his best to look the other way. The boy had as much control over his fate as Zayaan. The Swarm required obedience above all things.
Moments later, Zayaan heard the splash of urine in the bucket which served as the commander's private chamber pot. Thankfully, emptying the buckets was a duty which belonged to a lower ranking conscript.
"Tea!" bellowed the commander from behind the curtain.
Zayaan entered the room and braced himself as the smell of fresh urine and stale wine hit him in the face. He handed his commanding officer the cup and stood at attention waiting for additional orders.
"Zayaan, no questions today?" asked the commander. "Is my tea still hot?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You are finally learning." The commander took a sip and closed his eyes before shooing Zayaan away with one hand. "Don't stand there staring at me like an idiot. Go."
Zayaan bowed and exited, then began to set the table for the officers' morning meal. He was interrupted by the whinny of a horse and the sound of arguing from outside the tent. Someone was trying to get past the guards outside.
"I will see your commander now, soldier!” bellowed a man’s voice. “I haven't ridden across this sandy hell in the dark to be refused entrance because your fat assed commander likes to sleep in! Tell him it is Rolan. You know what? Fuck it. I will tell that lump of a man myself."
A brief sound of a scuffle reached Zayaan's ears. He grabbed a carving knife from the table and took a defensive stance ready to take on the intruder should he make it past the two guards. Seconds later the man entered the room unarmed, dressed in desert trader garb. Strips of cloth wound around his face protecting him from sand and sun, open only to reveal sharp green eyes in a tanned face.
"Oh, ho! What is this? A young bed warmer set to stop me?" The man started to belly laugh. "Mahleck will love to hear the story of your bravery protecting your master."
"I am not a bed warmer," growled Zayaan, holding his blade ready to strike.
"I see now. You have the scars. The old man wouldn't want you in his bed with that ugly face. I know the kind he likes," laughed the man. "Soft faces and hands like women. You don't look as though you have that luxury."
"What is all this racket!" bellowed the commander as he threw back the curtains. "Zayaan, I told you not to disturb me before..."
"Good morning, Gunnr," said the stranger, unwrapping the cloths from his face and releasing clouds of sand and dust onto the carpet below him. "I thought you could at least have some food waiting for me when I got here. I know how much you enjoy your food, you old pig." He shook even more sand from his shaggy hair before standing up and grinning at the older commander.
"Lord Prince Rolan," gasped the commander. "I... I... Zayaan, we need food for our honored guest. And tea. And put that blade away. Now."
"Ah, that makes more sense. You prepare the tea," said Rolan. "That is almost worse, you know, being a tea maker. That is women’s work."
"Zayaan, quickly. And use my special blend from the Adyllian temple," said the commander. "Nothing but the best for the Lord Prince. If it pleases you, your Grace, join my officers and I for the morning meal. I will make my private bath available for your refreshment where you may bathe and change into fresh clothing. The sand here gets everywhere. I do not know how these primitives could stand living in such conditions!"
Zayaan busied himself preparing the tea as the two men talked.
"I can see you have not changed, Gunnr," said Rolan, clapping the older officer on the back and sending more dust into the air. "It must be difficult for a man like you to be stuck in a place like this."
"It is, but if it is what the King desires for me, I shall do it," complained the commander. "If you could put in a good word for me at the palace..."
"If you stop keeping recruits as bed warmers, I think he could find another place for you," said Roland. "That is why you were sent here, you know. The God King does not approve of men who lust for male flesh. You are lucky he did not kill you outright. If you had been caught with a fully grown man, he would have."
"You are right," sighed the commander. "We all have our weaknesses. And I am sure that if I were to be at the palace surrounded by beautiful women, the urge would not be as strong."
"He sent you here to learn self-control," said Rolan. "From what I have seen of your camp, you have not taken that to heart. You are not providing adequate discipline and leadership for these recruits. I came into the camp without challenge, and I found your night watch asleep on the eastern outpost. I disarmed your personal bodyguard outside the tent without drawing a weapon, only to find your tea maker ready to fight me with a kitchen knife while you lay abed two hours after sunrise!"
Zayaan's jaw twitched as he tried to keep a grin from spreading across his face before he turned back to the men with the tea in hand. He presented the steaming cup to Rolan and bowed.
"Zayaan, let us know when the meal is ready. And do not bother us again," said the commander.
"Yes, sir."
"Wait a moment," said Rolan. "Your young tea maker risked his life to protect you from a crazed man who beat both of your guards in hand-to-hand combat. I think you should thank him for his service and bravery."
"Thank you, Zayaan," said the commander. "You are a credit to your training and your people. The God King will be honored when you arrive to serve at the palace."
"He is to be sent to the capital?" asked Rolan, draining his tea and motioning for Zayaan to refill his cup. "When? From what I have seen, none of your men are ready to take any place at court, even a brave tea maker like this one."
"Longest Night." The words poured out of Zayaan's mouth before he thought better of it. "My sister is bride to the God King."
"Zayaan, I am the one who will decide when you are ready to leave the camp," said the commander. "And from the manners you show our honored guest by speaking out of turn, I do not believe you will be ready in the months between now and Longest Night."
"I can stay until then," said the stranger. "Gunnr, old friend, you need help managing this camp if you ever wish to return to our King's good graces. And with my help at the camp, your tea maker will have manners befitting court life, and the ability to defend himself if need be. Court can be a dangerous place, especially for one who bears scars like he does."
Find your way!
Resources
WHO WE ARE
LEGAL
Get the news
Listen to our Podcast
Our Allies
