Part 4

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"Libuše is a prophet!"

"Libuše's the prophet!"

"Queen Libuše!"

"Libuše!"

"Libuše!"

"Lib-"

Libuše stood on the balcony of the castle, overlooking the clearing in which her entire people crowded, heads tilted up to the heavens to watch her stand and look down. She smiled sympathetically, and could no longer deny it. She was the prophet. They all knew she was the prophet.

"Libuše."

The voice was stern, not praising. Libuše turned slowly, to face Teta. She stood with her eyes narrowed and arms stiff at her sides. Her dress was orange and thick, appropriate for the blustering winds growing on the horizon. The blues and whites and purples of Libuše's dress gathered around her as she turned. She could feel the eyes of the Heaven.

"You have tricked me," she said. "You lied to get what - power?"

Love.

"Have the Gods spoken to you?"

Silence. "No."

"Then all is well."

Libuše turned to face the crowd again, causing another outburst. The winds in the dark clouds were picking up. She should hurry.

"It's storming, Libuše, is that not warning enough?"

"I see a great city whose glory will touch the stars," Libuše called, silencing the crowd with the command in her voice. She felt her hair being tugged from the delicately ornate braided crown. The strands caught in the wind as she continued. "A city so grand that all else will fall to its shadows. A city so beautiful the stars themselves will weep, and a city so powerful that even the Gods will have to bow their heads to cross its threshold - and that shall be what we call it. Praha."

"Libuše, the God's will wreak havoc upon you!" Teta shouted. The winds were just a little bit stronger, and Libuše could feel the first splatterings of rain. The crowd, though, was cheering.

"This city with ascend all of Czech into glory and prosperity! Not one will forget its name!"

The crowd was chanting. Most were shouting "Praha, Praha, Praha!"

Many were saying: "Libuše, Libuše, Libuše!"

And Libuše stood.

"The Gods will have you pay for this," Teta snarled, whipping around and disappearing back into the castle. Libuše didn't care, she tilted her head up to the sky and let rain fall to her face, dripping in rivers, pooling in the corners of her eyes like faux tears. Tears she could have spilled if she tried. She breathed in the scent of petrichor and frenzy.

"Where is this city, Libuše?" someone in the crowd called. "When will we have it?"

"The city will be found to the east!" she said. "And who would like to find it?"

Everyone screamed and begged and leapt and wanted to be chosen but Libuše was careful. She pointed down to a old man, with stiff grey in his beard and a glazed look to his eye. A hardy man who wouldn't try anything.

"You," she said. "Dalibor. Ride east as far as you can. You will know you have reached the location for the great city of Praha when you find a man making the best use of his teeth at midday."

He stared up at her.

"I'm sorry?"

"I have not misspoken," she snapped. "You will know the man when you see him. Now go! Take one of the castle horses, take any supplies you desire, but go and make haste, we have no time to lose. We must begin to build our city of glory and stars!"

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