Chapter 16
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 016
Chapter Title: Heretic King (2)
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Prague, Old Town Hall meeting room.
Two major factions sat here, barely suppressing their mutual hostility.
On one side of the heavy oak table sat the professors of Prague University.
Theologians and thinkers more familiar with quill pens than swords. Their deeply wrinkled faces bore both the pride of having led this revolution through logic and scripture, and the anguish over the war spiraling into an uncontrollable tragedy.
Opposite them stood Prague's great nobles and wealthy merchant representatives, their faces etched with anxiety.
They had joined this cause not just for theological ideals, but for practical goals like confiscating the Church's vast wealth and limiting royal authority.
Yet even they were fed up with this endless war that blocked trade routes and emptied coffers.
These two factions were mainly classified as the moderate wing of the Hussites, the Utraquists.
And standing apart from both sides, near the door, was a figure exuding a quiet yet menacing presence.
One-eyed, gaunt, with a face tanned black by the sun, clad in ragged cloth armor adorned with a crudely carved chalice emblem sewn on with wood.
He hadn't uttered a single word, but his mere presence suffocated everyone in the room.
The most radical and merciless scourge of the Hussite movement, who viewed Prague's professors as compromisers and the nobles as selfish opportunists.
Jan Zizka and the Taborites.
"Mm..."
"Ahem!"
Under his chilling gaze, a suffocating silence blanketed the meeting room. Only awkward coughs pierced the stillness.
All eyes in the room fixed on a single sheet of parchment at the center of the table.
Not a royal edict, nor a papal bull, but a letter from some minor provincial lord.
Yet that very letter had summoned all the divided Hussite leaders here.
Finally breaking the silence was Jan Rokycana, the spiritual pillar of the moderates and a renowned Prague University professor of theology.
He was merely a theologian now, but in the future, he would become the archbishop of Prague acclaimed by the Hussites.
Rokycana scanned the room cautiously before speaking.
"The reason we're gathered here... is to discuss the letter from Lord Sternberg together."
"Discuss what? There's nothing to discuss!"
Cenek z Vartemberka, leader of the pragmatic noble faction, jumped in as if he'd been waiting.
"'May the Sternberg eight-pointed star and the Bohemian lion fly alongside your chalice banner'... Beating around the bush, but it's just him demanding we crown him king!"
The room erupted in murmurs. Rokycana calmed the commotion and spoke steadily.
"...Frankly, it's a hard offer to refuse. The weight of Charles IV's bloodline is immense."
"Rokycana's right!"
Excitement laced Cenec's voice, like finding a long-blocked path.
"Have you forgotten? We're fighting all of Europe right now! The Pope and Emperor call us heretics and send crusades because we're rebels without a king."
Cenek clenched his fists and ranted on.
"But if Charles IV's legitimate descendant stands with us, everything changes. This won't be rebellion—it'll be a rightful civil war reclaiming the throne from usurpers! Even the Pope couldn't lightly call the Emperor's direct blood heretics!"
At that moment, Jan Zelivsky, the hardline Taborite theologian, shot to his feet.
"Nonsense!"
He had led the defenestration of Prague councilors, inadvertently shocking 'Inept King' Wenceslaus IV to death.
Fanatical fire blazed in Zelivsky's eyes.
"He's Charles IV's grandson, sure—but Sigismund's nephew, the liar who burned our teacher Jan Hus! His father backed the Catholic Emperor, and he himself torched our comrade Mikulas!"
Bam!
Zelivsky slammed the table.
"What's to say this isn't Sigismund's trap?!"
The room stirred again at his shout. Cenec sneered contemptuously.
"By that logic, no Luxembourg heir could ever be king."
"What?!"
"So you want to keep fighting kingless and get picked off one by one by foreign invaders? Will your precious faith block crusade swords?"
As sparks flew between them, Rokycana intervened.
"Calm down. Let's judge purely on rationale, not emotion. The claim of being Charles IV's grandson is powerful. It could unite Bohemia, nostalgic for the old Emperor's golden age. It might even rally moderate Catholics who despise Sigismund."
Then, Prokop Holy, the Taborite warrior-priest watching from a corner with arms crossed, spoke scornfully.
"Two sons of the great Emperor turned out like that—think the grandson's any different? An outsider grandson, half-blood at best."
"What nonsense! Isn't a grandson still a grandson?!"
Cenek bellowed.
"And we're quibbling over full or half now? With crusaders sharpening blades beyond our borders?!"
Rokycana reminded them gravely of reality.
"Everyone. We must face facts. Do we even have other options?"
His words crushed the room's air heavier.
"Moravia's Jost and Margrave Prokop, Charles IV's nephews, are dead. Excluding Sigismund and Prince Wenceslaus, they were Bohemia's most legitimate heirs."
In truth, Sigismund's throne lust wasn't new.
Some twenty years ago, he'd used his brother Wenceslaus IV's incompetence as pretext to kidnap and imprison him in Vienna, aiming to seize Bohemia himself.
Then, four vied for the throne: Charles IV's two sons (Wenceslaus, Sigismund) and two nephews (Jost, Prokop).
Jost of Moravia even outranked Sigismund briefly as Holy Roman Emperor.
But he died mysteriously of illness after fifteen weeks—victory meaningless.
Now, two decades later, only Sigismund lived among the four.
"Charles IV's other descendants have refused our crown or become foreign queens. Hate to admit it, but in Bohemia now, only Sigismund... and this Ulrich have legitimate claim."
Heavy silence fell again. In it, Prokop Holy spoke.
"...Isn't there one more? Władysław II Jagiełło. He hates Sigismund too."
Cenek raised an eyebrow.
"The Polish king? A foreigner with no Bohemian ties."
"Not Charles IV's blood, but one of Europe's mightiest rulers. And Sigismund's foe—Sigismund openly backs Poland's nemesis, the Teutonic Knights. I hear Jagiełło took our proposal seriously."
Poland secretly aiding Hussites to weaken Sigismund was an open secret.
Rokycana shook his head.
"But he's a Catholic monarch. No matter how he loathes Sigismund, he won't risk excommunication as a heretic king. So he pushed his cousin, Grand Duke Vytautas of Lithuania, as proxy."
Prokop frowned.
"King's proxy, huh. Then maybe him..."
"Vytautas feared the heretic label too. He sent his nephew Duke Korybut instead."
Cenek let out a hollow laugh.
"...So, serve the proxy's proxy as king? If we reject this Ulrich."
Chilly silence swept the room again.
Heretic.
That damned label was the issue.
Becoming Bohemian king now meant making enemies of the Holy Roman Empire and the entire Catholic world.
Finding a ruler to risk that was like chasing stars.
Cenek sighed deeply.
"Can't trust it... But this Ulrich's either mad or genius. He knows we have no other candidates and set this board."
He asked, baffled.
"How did a direct heir of Charles IV hide unnamed till now? Why didn't we know of him?"
"I'll explain that."
Jan of Pribram, Prague University's most learned theologian on records and genealogies, spoke.
He opened a dusty tome and began calmly.
Ulrich's mother, Princess Elisuka, was Charles IV's youngest daughter, born late in life.
But premature, and with her empress mother dying in childbirth, she was deemed ominous in court.
So frail, all expected her death soon—even her father.
Naturally, she faded from memory. But a miracle occurred.
An old maid's devoted care let her survive to adulthood, bedridden most days.
When the forgotten princess came of age, the Emperor pondered. Too weak for foreign marriage, unlikely to bear heirs.
So he entrusted her to his most trusted vassal, Petr of Sternberg.
Promising remarriage in the Emperor's name if she died childless young.
Thus, the imperial wedding was modest, known to few.
But unexpectedly, duty turned to true love for Petr.
Their devoted marriage miraculously produced a son. But happiness was brief.
Princess Elisuka died years after childbirth... and Petr never remarried.
"A frail princess who could die anytime... I see. Politically worthless, unfit for royal alliances."
"Exactly. Not news for provincial lords or us scholars, let alone peasants."
Then, radical theologian Jan Zelivsky scoffed from silence.
"Touching tale. So the tragic hero emerges now claiming the throne? Too timely for coincidence."
Cenek countered instantly.
"Nonsense! Forgotten princess's tragic heir! The masses will love it!"
"Perfect trap!"
Zelivsky glared bloodshot.
"Ever think it's Sigismund's ploy? Failed to kill his thorn nephew through us, now baits division! Accepting that pup lord rots our revolution from within!"
After heated debate, exhausted Rokycana shouted.
"Enough! All of you, stop!"
The clamor subsided. Rokycana smoothed his disheveled hair.
"Even as we argue, Sigismund gathers armies. Time to decide: accept Sternberg's offer or reject."
Silence gripped the room again. No one spoke first.
Then it happened.
The shadow against the wall, Jan Zizka—motionless till now—finally spoke.
His battle-rough voice carried weight silencing all noise instantly.
"Fights aren't won with words."
All eyes turned to him. The one-eyed veteran stared piercingly at the letter.
"Grandson of Charles IV or devil's spawn—doesn't matter. Spy or savior—irrelevant. One thing counts: can he fight?"
Zizka's gaze swept the room slowly.
"Mikulas was no pushover, stupid or not. Beat him twice with dozens of soldiers and peasants. Not luck."
"I know no theology, no politics. Only war. In war, it's not claims or blood that win—it's a blade that kills."
"Whether this letter's sender wields a real blade or just pretty junk, I'll see and judge myself."
Jan of Pribram sighed deeply, agreeing.
"...General Zizka's right. We must verify his worth ourselves. Can't gamble Bohemia’s crown on the unproven. Too big a risk."
He proposed no more debate, but a practical compromise all could accept.
"Offer him Bohemian regency. Let him govern in the king's stead, command our Hussite armies against Sigismund."
No throne, but near-kingly power and duty—a clever move.
"If he truly shares our cause and proves himself commander... then crown him king later. But if scheming or incompetent... we depose him."
Cenek of Bartemberk nodded first, smiling satisfied.
"Good idea, Chancellor. Rational, practical. Perfect test of his heart and skill."
Zelivsky scowled but with Zizka firm, had no grounds to oppose. He sullenly shut up.
Thus, Hussite leadership unified. Rokycana concluded.
"Then send the letter. To Sternberg's young lord: come to Prague, prove your worth in person."