Between Two Queens

2. Bosnia, Spring 1349

Spring was coming. Elizabeta was in the courtyard playing ball with the boys. This was one of those rare moments, that she could enjoy some of the less feminine pursuits. Since news came of Bieta's death, Ursula decided not to keep Elizabeta away from the boys all of the time. Some time with her cousins could help cheer her amid her grief. But the game was quickly interrupted by the noise of the moving drawbridge. Elizabeta paused and looked at the messenger who had just ridden in. He was out of earshot, and talking to Jelena, Ursula, Anthony, and a few others. The messenger looked in Elizabeta's direction, saw the children, and then gestured to his audience to go behind a nearby wall. The messenger had a grim look on his face. This could not be good news. There was never any good news since the pestilence began.

Curious, Elizabeta walked over and followed them to the wall. A tutor reached his hand out, and tightly grabbed her by the wrist. Elizabeta struggled.

"Let me go! I must know what news this man brings! Let me go! I am Elizabeta Kotromanic, daughter of your Ban! You must listen to what I say!"

Another man stepped forward and grabbed her other hand. "None of this concerns you!" he snapped. "The messenger says that he does not want you to hear it right now." Elizabeta continued to struggle against her captors until Ursula came out.

When Ursula did emerge, Elizabeta saw tears on her face. The men released Elizabeta, and she ran to her governess. What could it be now, thought Elizabeta. Could her father now be dead too? She straightened herself, knowing that she must be prepared to hear the worse.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeta asked. The anger in her eyes had disappeared. She was now looking at Ursula with soulful brown eyes. Ursula let out a sob. She pulled Elizabeta closer. When Ursula got the news, she knew that she would have to be the one to tell Elizabeta. No one else could bear telling her this news, and since Ursula was the closest to Elizabeta, the duty fell on her.

Ursula took a long, shaky, breath. "Theodora is dead. She died of the pestilence on Monday last."

Elizabeta screamed and lost her footing. Quickly, Ursula caught her.

"No! Not Theodora! It can't be her! It can't!" She took off through the courtyard, towards the castle, and then inside. Ursula ran after her. Once she made it inside, there was no sign of Elizabeta, but a servant pointed towards a stairwell. As she went up it, and through a corridor, Ursula could hear running, a door opening, and then slamming. The sound was coming from Elizabeta's chamber. When Ursula got there, the girl threw herself on her bed, buried her head in her pillows, and wept uncontrollably.

In all of her ten years, Elizabeta had never faced such a tragedy before. She had never seen the death of another child, let alone one whom she called friend. Not even her own mother's death had hit her this hard. But after receiving news of her mother's death last November, and now not even six months later, her dear friend's, Elizabeta felt as if her world was falling apart. All day long, she would not leave her bed.

"Why Theodora?" Elizabeta said later that day. "She was my best friend. She was going to be my permanent companion when I reached womanhood. She was supposed to go everywhere I went. We were going to live our lives together. I was going to be a great lady, and she was going to be my maid of honor."

Ursula thought about that day when Theodora's father came to take her away. How he thought he was protecting her. How he thought she would be safe from the pestilence at his home. How wrong he had been. Just days after Theodora's death, he too had succumbed to the pestilence. She did not share this information with Elizabeta, as she had already been told of too many deaths in the last months.

"It must be God's will that someone else be your companion," was all that Ursula could say. Elizabeta bolted to the window. "She would have still been alive had not her accursed father taken her from here! It is all her father's fault!"