The Queen and her Ploughman

Part 5

Dalibor left that night, despite the rain that lashed out and the darkness of the clouds. He took the deep, chestnut mare from the stables and a dark leather saddles and enough food and water to last him providing he found a river for the horse. And he rode and rode and rode. It had been a long time since he served the royal family. It brought to mind almost forgotten memories of serving beside Krok, and even further back, of being just a boy and trailing behind his father as Cech and Lech led them into their new lands.

So he rode with every ounce of skill he had, and by midnight the clouds and cleared and his skin was dry and the stars allowed him light. And he rode and rode and rode and rode.

By morning he was in territory he didn't know. By mid day, when he stopped beneath a hazel tree and took a lunch of bread and dried fish and water he thought the scent of the roses dotting the countryside reminded him of his travelling days. He thought he must have passed this place travelling with Cech, the river was narrow and fast and he watched it gurgle as he enjoyed the light.

By evening he had followed the river to its narrowest point and attempted to cross it. The horse complained but he continued on until clambering out on the opposite bank. They rode further a bit, up north more, hoping for a sign. When a tiny little town of barely a few houses appeared, he slowed and dismounted to look around.

A kindly older woman let him stay in her barn, which he was glad for. He was bone tired, and fell asleep almost immediately.

He awoke late in the morning, and spent his time talking. He tried not to give anything away, but mentioned that he was here on official royal business. Everyone seemed very impressed.

It was just about midday when Dalibor was considering leaving to continuing riding, but the woman convinced him to let her serve him lunch. She made a simple meal from berries and butter and bread, and the entire town sat and laughed and ate.

Except for one.

"There goes Premysl," the woman muttered, a grouchy tone. "Never resting. Like he's got someone to impress."

Dalibor turned to find the young man, handsome and well built and using a sharp, iron saw to trim the edges of a wooden beam. Something clicked in his mind.

"That man!" Dalibor exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "That man is who I was sent to find!"

The woman, rightly confused, scowled. "Přemysl? What good is he to anyone. He's just a Ploughman."

The loudness of Dalibor's exclamation was enough to catch the attention of Přemysl, who turned politely to see how he could be of service. Dalibor rushed over.

"You! I am glad to meet you," Dalibor said, offering his hand. Přemysl shook it warily. "The Queen will be most pleased."

"Queen Libuše?" Přemysl said, frowning.

"You are using your teeth quite excellently, I might add," Dalibor went on, deepening the ploughman's frown. "All the rest are eating away, but you're still working. This will be the site of Praha."

"Praha?" the grouchy old woman exclaims. "What Praha?"

"The Queen is building the grandest city in the world," Dalibor declared, grabbing ahold of Přemysl's shoulder. "And this man means that the site of the city shall be here."

"She's building a city here," Přemysl scoffed, raising an eye.

"She is a prophet," Dalibor went on. "And has foreseen the city. Now I apologize, but I must leave, I have to deliver the news of the site for Praha!"

And Dalibor left, nearly as suddenly as he came, and he rode and rode and rode.