“Come on, Pierre,” said Jean. Her brother shuffled through the yellow wildflowers that spotted the fields just outside of Domrémy. The mid-morning sun warmed the spring air, providing them with a fresh feeling.
Pierre darted after his older sister but the long-legged Jean was not to be caught. Her straw-blonde hair hung braided down her back, and thumped her with each stride. She cast a smile to her brother who never gave up trying to tag her. With a gleeful shriek, she dropped and rolled into the long grass. Her brother copied her, and they both looked at the sky through the green spear points. They rolled on their backs, and Pierre pointed up saying,
“What’s that?” Jean gazed at the cloud he indicated and said, “It looks like a cow.”
Pierre laughed and said, “No, it’s a horse. A knight’s horse. And it’s a French one. Not some stupid Burgundian or English one.”
Jean turned to her brother and smiled. “Maybe you’re right.”
She had seen too many of those invaders. Her village was in the eastern part of France and was too close to Burgundy. But her father, who was a local official as well as a farmer, managed to hold off raiders without much loss of property or life. Several sacks of grain bought off hungry soldiers-for-hire.
Jean looked back into the sky and saw a cloud forming in the breeze far away. It was a long line with a bar. She knew that symbol well. She tried to point to the cross in the sky, but her arm would not move, like it belonged to someone else.
Panic, an inner fire, spread throughout her body. The sounds of nature around her dulled into silence, and all she heard were her shallow breaths and rapid heartbeat. Jean struggled in vain to break free of the spell that held her. But all she could do was stare up into the sky. What’s happening to me?
Then an unearthly voice said, “Jean of Domrémy, France has been suffering far too long. The war with England sickens God, and you will stop it. You will do so by going to Charles the Dauphin and see that he fights the English. Through this action and by this symbol, France shall be restored.”
The cross-shaped cloud whirled around and looked like a flaming sword. Tears rolled down Jean’s cheeks. If God owns a sword, this has to be it. “Go now to your father,” the voice said, “for he is in need. Do not hesitate.”
Unblinking, Jean gaped at the sword cloud, which dissolved into the sky. Her brother’s face appeared above her. His mouth was moving, but she could not hear anything he said. Pierre shook her a bit, and then she heard him. “Jean—Jean, are you all right?”
She sprung upright, making her brother reel back and gasp. “We have to go back to the farm.”
“What?” he said and scrunched up his face. “Why? It’s such a nice day and we’re having fun and—”
“Papa’s in trouble. Come on!”
Jean shot up and sprinted through the grass towards home, not even checking whether her brother was even following her. She just ran. The fields turned into hills. And from there she could see her village below.
Several English mounted sergeants and a score of infantrymen were pushing around a group of her neighbors. Pierre caught up with her and saw what was happening. He looked to Jean wide-eyed and said, “How— how did you know?”
“God told me.”
Being naïve, Pierre ran towards the farmhouse at the edge of the village. Jean ran after him. “Pierre stop!”
But it was too late. A small group of men-at-arms that were marching on a nearby trail towards the village spotted Pierre. “Halt!”
Jean ran after her stupid brother. The men broke formation and chased the children. The heavy plate and chain armor clanked with each step. But there was also an archer in the group, and he was quick. Jean had often heard that the English soldiers sometimes liked to make sport of children and hunt them like deer. For once, the stories seemed true.
She caught up with Pierre and pulled him along. They both screamed, “Papa!”
Their father emerged from the barn and said, “Jean, Pierre, come quickly!”
With legs burning, Jean and her brother raced to protection. The family dogs met them in the field and playfully nipped at her legs. Jean took a moment and looked back and saw the longbowman stop, knock an arrow, and take range.
The words she had heard in the flowery field echoed in her mind, so the fear from being stalked ended. She knew she would not be harmed, so she relaxed her stride and slowed down.
As her brother continued running like mad to their father, she stopped and faced the archer, looking him in the eye. The arrow sped from the bow, and time seemed to slow down. Jean could see the shaft approach, and could almost hear its feathers whistling in the wind. This was to be her first test. She put her hands at her sides, and awaited God’s verdict.
The arrow sped and landed with a thud between her feet. She knew the promise made to her was real. Jean looked down at the arrow stuck in the dirt and then up to the sky. Her teary eyes closed and her mouth opened wide into a toothy smile. She stretched her arms upward to heaven.
France will be saved, and I’m to be her savior.
You are very talentrd Chris. Keep the books and stories coming.
ReplyDeleteBev.