The Queen and her Ploughman

Part 8

 It was not unknown, now, that Libuše not only ruled fairly, but specifically with disregard for tradition or age or sex. Suddenly, those with problems previous shoved under the bed were resurfacing.

Children who didn't inherit land from their parents. Women who weren't allowed to pursue an interest, or a person. Land disputes, animal disputes, farming.

Of course, her newfound position as both judge and jury meant Kazi and Teta both had to step up to run the rest of the castle and it's kingdom. Months passed like this, and as they organized taxes and planned fields and expansions, their kingdom grew and it prospered.

Libuše seemed to know exactly how to foster the best kingdom. The people were happy, it seemed. There was plentiful food and water to go around, sickness was kept to a minimum, and those who were sick were given to Kazi's care, who excellent in not only spiritual health, but medicinal herbs and modern practices as well.

Trade from Poland to their east provided salt by the barrel and plenty at that. Meat was preserved with the salt, and when winter came, the cold, harsh winds much more powerful than usual, they had more than enough to make it through.

Teta remained adamant towards her younger sister. This cruel winter was a sign, she believed, and Teta was as adept at reading the signs from gods as Libuše was at reading people. Of course it worried Libuše. She had firmly believed that Teta was overreacting. But now, watching the flurries blanket and hide her city from view, she realized that maybe ignoring her magician sister wasn't a great idea.

Except that when the snow began to melt, and the people emerged into watery sunlight, peering at blue skies and finding patches of dirt appearing in their fields, Libuše knew that the gods might be angry but she had kept them through the winter. Her actions had protected them from godly wrath. Good preparation, a strong community. She avoided Teta's eye as she climbed the spiralling staircases to reach the balcony.

She stood in the freezing morning air, at the end of winter, and waited. The first young man noticed her. Then the next, then suddenly the crowd was gathering. Waking family, pulling siblings along. Queen Libuše was speaking.

"My sister, Teta, has told me that this winter was a sign from the gods," Libuše declared, and the crowd murmured isn't fear amongst themselves. She continued before they could grow into a frenzy. "It was harsh, it was cold, it was bitter and cruel, but we have come out on the other side. Despite their best attempts, not even the gods could touch us."

Now, fear turned into pride. They had survived the winter.

"It is our resilience that has brought one more medallion for Praha to wear - not even the gods can destroy us. We have achieved glory, I daresay!"

The crowd cheered.

"I would think to thank you all with your patience this winter," Libuše said, as it began to snow. Just lightly, little sprinkles, like flakes of starlight to powder the city. "We have preserved and come out on top and I could not be more proud of our young city. Thank you."

"Libuše!" Teta scolded, the moment Libuše stepped down from her perch. She raised an eye. "How dare you do this again? We barely survived that, and you know that! How can you think it's a sign in your favour?"

"Teta, you grow redundant," Libuše sighed, brushing past her and down to the stairs.

"I will stop pestering you when you stop being an idiot," Teta growled. "Did you really look at this winter and think that it means everything is alright?"

Libuše rounded on her, trying to keep the fire she felt contained to her eyes and not her muscles. She felt like snarling, and tried to restrain herself. "No, Teta, I don't, actually. This winter was awful. But my city does not need to think that the gods are after them."

"The gods are after them, Libuše, I see it in every movement. They're after you." She paused. "And this is our city."

Libuše stared back at her. "The gods can talk to me if they have a problem with my actions," Libuše declared, and spun to leave Teta behind. To her credit, the sister did not pursue the argument again, and allowed Libuše to disappear down the hallway.

Libuše followed the hallway down to the courtyard, where there were already people waiting.

"Libuše!'

"Libuše!"

The two men called her, and she pulled herself around to grin at him. She might have to reconsider the open door policy - she wanted to retreat to the altar, right now, and try and see if the gods really, truly, were angry. She knew Teta was rarely wrong, but she it bothered her that if they were mad, they hadn't just set the city on fire.

"Yes?" she said pleasantly, recognized Ctik, and then the younger man he was fighting with, Pavel.

"This man here," Ctik began, jabbing a finger at Pavel, "is trying to tell me that his property line extends to the cracked rock and follows the riverbed. But I've always owned that riverbed, since the moment we got here! His property goes along the treeline and down to his house, he knows that!"

"It does not,' Pavel snapped. "We arrived at the same time. Kazi herself designated equal property points. You're confused from the snow hiding the landmark for so long - we have equal property using that riverbed as the break."

"It may be equal, but it wasn't yours!"

"You don't need that much space anyways! You can't farm past the riverbed because you can't get your equipment over!"

"Doesn't mean I want you touching my land!"

"It's not your land!"

"Boys!" Libuše shouted, holding her hands up. "I've heard enough. And this is hardly a battle worth fighting. If you can't farm on the land," she said, looking at Ctik, "and it isn't an equal split anyways, then I declared that the river is the split in your land, and anyone trespassing will be dealt with as a criminal."

"Libuše!" Ctik declared, but was cut off by Pavel.

"Thank you, Queen Libuše," Pavel murmured, stepped back. "I appreciate your assistance."

"Well I do not!" Ctik roared. "And I've had it up to here with this girl! All her talk of glory but she's just a woman. She's no more fit to rule a kingdom that my cattle are. All this nonsense she spews, with girls making choices and property being given away. We need a king - we need a man in charge!" Ctik screeched, though this time there was no one there to hear him.

Finally, Libuše thought. It had taken him long enough. Finally her chance was here.

"You're right, I think," she said. "You're absolutely right. How can I rule a kingdom without a husband? Find me one. Any man you choose can be my husband - under one condition."

"I'm sorry?" Ctik said.

"You heard me," she repeated. "I want you to find my husband - and he must be a model Czech citizen, of course. The first man my horse stops at who serves you salt crackers on an iron table," she said, tapping her finger against her lip.

"Your horse?"

"My own personal horse, bred for royalty. Will you accept this regal task?" she said, raising an eye. Ctik stared back. He was smart, she knew, but not even he would turn down the Queen's task.

"Of course."