Libuše hid behind the pillars on the front of the castle as Teta made her announcement. Kazi stood off to the side as well, staring at Libuše with a tilt in her head that meant she knew something was up. Libuše tried to avoid the questioning green gaze, eventually having to stride forward to stand beside Teta.
The crowd started humming. Whispers darting between lips and barely reaching her ears. The Princess -the Queen. Libuše. Libuše. Libuše. Was it Libuše?
"Libuše!" one farmer broke out. "Libuše, is the prophet you? Have you heard from the Gods?"
"My people, relax," Libuše said, holding a hand into the air to silence them. The crowd fell silent, gazing up at her jewelled fingers in awe. "I am not the prophet. I am your Judge and Queen, but I am no prophet."
"But Libuše, it has to be you!" a maiden cried. "You always know the weather, and you knew when a fire started in the cabin!"
Libuše kept her hand in the air. "I will accept myself as prophet if the animals are struck dead tonight," she said, shaking her head sadly. The people gasped and glanced around, as if worried they'd see arrows peeking from trees at this very moment. When they realized that she wasn't prophesying anything though, and being facetious, they let their guard drop.
"Who is this prophet, then, Libuše," Kazi asked, striding forward and allowing the crowd to draw in her golden beauty - unlike Libuše, much more like their father, Krok. She sounded intense. Angry. Aware. Kazi had knowledge of many things - of wounds and illness and any medicinal herb one could encounter. She didn't like not knowing something.
"When the prophet shows," Libuše said, dipping her head. "We will listen to their words."
The crowd was satisfied, and was Libuše waved her hand, they turned back to their chores. To digging and ploughing and watering and feeding and cleaning. Libuše would build them a better city than this.
That night, she snuck into the pastures where fluffy white sheep stood in huddles for warmth, and drew a sharp knife.
YOU ARE READING
The Queen and her Ploughman
Historical FictionLibuse is the youngest sister of three, and the people's favourite. She makes a fair ruler, a kind judge, and loves her people and country more than anything else. Except for, maybe, the ploughman from out of town, Premsyl. But Libuse is clever, tr...
