The Queen and her Ploughman

Part 11

"Well you can't kill, her," Přemysl said, sitting down on one of the plush couches decorating their new room in the castle. "Teta's just mad that you're lying about the Gods, so she's lashing out. Someone of her caliber is bound to be touchy."

"But what if she's going to do something to the baby?" Libuše said, pacing over carpet of gold and red and running hands through tangled brown hair. "I can't just let this continue!"

"I'm going to say it again," Přemysl said slowly. "You can't kill your sister."

"I don't want to kill her," Libuše said, groaning and turning to him. "I just want her on my side. I want her to see that the Gods don't care what I do. That everything is fine."

"What if they aren't fine?" Přemysl tried. "What if the Gods truly are angry, though, what then? There is no way to undo your years of work..."

"No," Libuše snapped. "I'm not giving you or this city up. I've finally got what I wanted. If the Gods are angry, they'll have to strike down the best ruler Czech will ever have. I belong here."

Přemysl stood up slowly, reaching out to take her shoulders and steady the girl.

"Look, you got here on your own - you're brilliant, Libuše, and if anyone is going to be able to turn this around and take what she wants, it's you."
"But I'm done!" she cried. "I'm done being a prophet, I'm done being devious. I got what I wanted."

"So you have an advantage," Přemysl agreed, smiling. "Now you have me, and I'm not going to let anything happen."

~~~

They buried the body of their first child, Radobyl.

Libuše screamed and lay over the coffin, which was placed in a crypt. He died at the age of two, barely able to talk, barely understanding why he might be victim to such a terrible illness.

Přemysl snuck away that night, to the cabin he had neglected and trailed his hands along the mossy wood and unploughed fields. It was weird to not call himself the ploughman anymore. He was the King. Around back, he found the withered and dead shoot of a hazel tree. Beneath it, was a new sprout. Hope, he thought it meant. So he took the news back to Libuše.

"I told you this would happen. You have to appease the Gods, Libuše," Teta was saying, crossing her arms. The sisters had been at odds every hour of every day for years now, but they had softened as time wore on. Praha prospered, the city lived and loved and everything was good. Everything was supposed to be good.

Kazi, who had been the last to see Radobyl alive, bit at her nails nervously in the corner, watching her sisters. Přemysl thought it was strange that through everything, the eldest sister had remained impartial to the fighting. Never picking a side, the healer had waited and listened and used every bit of her knowledge to save the child. It wasn't enough, and it was hitting her hard. She wasn't used to losing patients.

Přemysl put a hand on the healer's shoulder as he passed, approaching the two younger sisters facing off.

"I don't know how!" Libuše wailed. "There's nothing I can do now! Everything's been done!"

"Get rid of the castle!" Teta shouted. "Get rid of the city! Get rid of your rule! Get rid of him!"

"No!"

Libuše backed up, taking Přemysl's arm. "I am a better ruler than either of you could ever be. I'm not throwing away the greatness of Czech because some Gods are angry. I'll find another way."

"You better," Přemysl said, shocking everyone with his voice. He usually knew better than to speak when the sisters were conferring. "If Teta's right about that tree being our livelihood, in about nine months we'll find out if we're cursed or not."