flaccid, with bulging frightened eyes.
“It’s not me who is the Dauphin, Joan,” he said, and he pointed back towards the throne. “There, there is the Dauphin.”
“In God’s name, noble Prince,” said Joan, stamping her foot, “it is you who is the Dauphin,and none other. We have no time for such games. The English will be at your gates in weeks, and you play games. Would you have me stop them, or no?” She came closer to him. “I must speak with you, alone and now.”
She took him by the arm and led him away into a side chamber. They made a strangely incongruous pair, the nervous knock-kneed potbellied Prince of France with weasly wandering eyes, and the sturdy country girl dressed up as a boy soldier. She was talking earnestly to him as they went, talking as if she had known him all her life.
Belami tried every window in the castle but still could not find them. In the end he returned to his ledge, drove off the noisy pigeons and waited. Down in the hall they waited too. It was some time before the two of them emerged. When they did the Dauphin looked a different man. The pallor hadleft his face. His eyes had stopped their wanderings. He even stood straighter, and he was holding her by the hand as if she was a long lost sister. The hall was silent at once.
“Let it be known throughout my k-kingdom,” – he spoke with a stutter, but as he went on the words came with increasing confidence, “that this Maid, this Joan of Arc of Domrémy, is a true messenger of God. She has the eye of God. She knows my prayers, things I have not divulged even to my confessor.” There were some barely suppressed sniggerings at this. “ And, and, she has it on God’s authority that despite what many of you think – and I know you think it – God knows that I am no bastard, but the true and rightful son of my father, and therefore the true king of France.” He turned to the Archbishop of Reims who was standing close by. “Archbishop, Joan would have you anoint meand crown me king in your cathedral, where all French kings should be crowned.”
“But it is impossible,” the Archbishop replied. “There are twenty thousand English between here and Reims, and they still besiege Orléans. Besides, why should we believe this chit of a peasant girl?”
“The English will not be there for long, my lord Archbishop,” said Joan. “My voices tell me I will drive them out, and my voices come from God. Don’t you believe in God, my lord Archbishop? You should, I think.”
To hear this country girl lecturing the Archbishop was too much for some, and there were angry mutterings around the hall. Just then, a young man, resplendent in gold and blue, stepped forward. He was clearly a man to be respected for everyone fell silent at once. “If the Dauphin believes her, then I believe her too,” he declared, and he declared itloud enough for everyone to hear. He bowed to Joan. “I am the Duc d’Alençon, Joan, just recently come out of an English prison, my ransom paid. I know of you from my good friends, Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulengy, and neither of them is inclined to wishful thinking. If you say you are sent by God, then I believe you. I for one will join you and fight by your side for as long as it takes.” He knelt before Joan, took her hand in his and kissed it.
“You are very welcome,” Joan said. “The more such men are gathered in God’s name the sooner we shall win.” The Dauphin clapped at that, and then everyone was clapping with him and cheering, such cheering as the castle had never known in all its history.
Up on his ledge, Belami’s heart swelled with pride. When he flew off it was to soar high abovethe castle towers singing out his joy like a lark – as nearly like a lark as he could manage anyway.
Joan dined at the castle that evening with the Dauphin, and two of the great dukes of France, the Duc d’Alençon and the Duc de la Trémoille. They talked only of how they could raise the siege
“It’s not me who is the Dauphin, Joan,” he said, and he pointed back towards the throne. “There, there is the Dauphin.”
“In God’s name, noble Prince,” said Joan, stamping her foot, “it is you who is the Dauphin,and none other. We have no time for such games. The English will be at your gates in weeks, and you play games. Would you have me stop them, or no?” She came closer to him. “I must speak with you, alone and now.”
She took him by the arm and led him away into a side chamber. They made a strangely incongruous pair, the nervous knock-kneed potbellied Prince of France with weasly wandering eyes, and the sturdy country girl dressed up as a boy soldier. She was talking earnestly to him as they went, talking as if she had known him all her life.
Belami tried every window in the castle but still could not find them. In the end he returned to his ledge, drove off the noisy pigeons and waited. Down in the hall they waited too. It was some time before the two of them emerged. When they did the Dauphin looked a different man. The pallor hadleft his face. His eyes had stopped their wanderings. He even stood straighter, and he was holding her by the hand as if she was a long lost sister. The hall was silent at once.
“Let it be known throughout my k-kingdom,” – he spoke with a stutter, but as he went on the words came with increasing confidence, “that this Maid, this Joan of Arc of Domrémy, is a true messenger of God. She has the eye of God. She knows my prayers, things I have not divulged even to my confessor.” There were some barely suppressed sniggerings at this. “ And, and, she has it on God’s authority that despite what many of you think – and I know you think it – God knows that I am no bastard, but the true and rightful son of my father, and therefore the true king of France.” He turned to the Archbishop of Reims who was standing close by. “Archbishop, Joan would have you anoint meand crown me king in your cathedral, where all French kings should be crowned.”
“But it is impossible,” the Archbishop replied. “There are twenty thousand English between here and Reims, and they still besiege Orléans. Besides, why should we believe this chit of a peasant girl?”
“The English will not be there for long, my lord Archbishop,” said Joan. “My voices tell me I will drive them out, and my voices come from God. Don’t you believe in God, my lord Archbishop? You should, I think.”
To hear this country girl lecturing the Archbishop was too much for some, and there were angry mutterings around the hall. Just then, a young man, resplendent in gold and blue, stepped forward. He was clearly a man to be respected for everyone fell silent at once. “If the Dauphin believes her, then I believe her too,” he declared, and he declared itloud enough for everyone to hear. He bowed to Joan. “I am the Duc d’Alençon, Joan, just recently come out of an English prison, my ransom paid. I know of you from my good friends, Jean de Metz and Bertrand de Poulengy, and neither of them is inclined to wishful thinking. If you say you are sent by God, then I believe you. I for one will join you and fight by your side for as long as it takes.” He knelt before Joan, took her hand in his and kissed it.
“You are very welcome,” Joan said. “The more such men are gathered in God’s name the sooner we shall win.” The Dauphin clapped at that, and then everyone was clapping with him and cheering, such cheering as the castle had never known in all its history.
Up on his ledge, Belami’s heart swelled with pride. When he flew off it was to soar high abovethe castle towers singing out his joy like a lark – as nearly like a lark as he could manage anyway.
Joan dined at the castle that evening with the Dauphin, and two of the great dukes of France, the Duc d’Alençon and the Duc de la Trémoille. They talked only of how they could raise the siege
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