Read Online Sparrow by Michael Morpurgo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Morpurgo
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there was envy too. Of allof them she trusted only the Duc d’Alençon, ‘my fair duke’ as she always called him.
She had just a few days of tranquillity and peace with the Duc d’Alençon and his Duchess at their castle nearby in the countryside, and she knew even then it would be the last such days she would ever know. Here the Duchess had made for her some new clothes, not just suitable for any soldier, but as she said, ‘for a great soldier of France’. They presented her with the finest horse they had, ‘to chase the Godoms out of France’; and the three rode, and sang, and walked and talked together for hours on end. Parting from the Duchess, when it came, was hard. “Look after him for me, Joan,” she said, embracing her. “He’s such a hot-head.”
“Fear nothing,” Joan replied, “I will send him back to you as safe and well as he is now, or even better.”
Back at the Dauphin’s court at Chinon she found herself treated now like a royal princess. She had her own rooms high in the Coudray Tower inside the castle itself. This suited Belami fine. He found he could fly in and out just as he pleased. She had her own chapel too and her own priest to go with it. She could hear Mass every day. She lacked for nothing – she even had servants now, and a page.
Her page was called Louis, a slip of a lad, barely fourteen, just three years younger than she was. When they first met he was tongue-tied with awe, for by now Joan was even more famous than the Dauphin himself.
“Well, Louis, what does a page do? I’ve never had one before,” Joan asked him.
“Look after you, I suppose,” said Louis.
“But I can look after myself,” replied Joan. “I always have done.”
“What must I do then?” he asked her.
“Be a friend to me, Louis, that’s all I ask. And be a friend to my Belami. Feed him when I forget. And, Louis, if ever I get too big for my boots – and I fear I shall – then prod me and remind me I am just Joan from Domrémy, and must always remain so. Will you do that for me? Will you promise?”
After that, young Louis went everywhere with her, half an eye on Belami and half an eye on his young mistress – prodding her vanity whenever it appeared. He did this often and gently, particularly when she became overwhelmingly imperious or presumptuous which she was inclined to be from time to time. Joan came to trust in him absolutely, and so did Belami. He would sit on Louis’ finger, on his shoulder, on his head, anywhere – providing he got fed, of course.
Joan longed to be gone with the army toOrléans; but, like Robert de Beaudricourt before him, the Dauphin began to lose his nerve after his first flush of enthusiasm. His marshals complained bitterly at the prospect of having a peasant girl leading their army. Only the great Marshall La Hire was firm in his support. “We have not done so well without God’s help,” he said. “If she is from God – and she may be – then let’s have God on our side. We need Him.” The bishops too sowed new doubts about her in his mind, and the doubts preyed on him. He sent countless bishops and learned clerics up to her tower to interview her; and he sent ladies to examine her purity, to make quite sure which she was, girl or boy. The Dauphin himself accompanied her to Poitiers where she had to endure long days of interrogation before more bishops and more learned clerics. Joan bore it all stoically, though on occasion her patience worevery thin. They would ask her such silly questions, and she was always inclined to give as good as she got.
“Do you believe in God?” one asked her.
“Yes,” she snapped back, “and better than you.”
“Can you give us some proof that you are sent by God as you say you are?”
“By God’s name,” she replied. “I have not come to Poitiers to perform miracles. Lead me to Orléans, and I will show you the miracle for which I am sent.”
In the end it was not her answers that convinced the
She had just a few days of tranquillity and peace with the Duc d’Alençon and his Duchess at their castle nearby in the countryside, and she knew even then it would be the last such days she would ever know. Here the Duchess had made for her some new clothes, not just suitable for any soldier, but as she said, ‘for a great soldier of France’. They presented her with the finest horse they had, ‘to chase the Godoms out of France’; and the three rode, and sang, and walked and talked together for hours on end. Parting from the Duchess, when it came, was hard. “Look after him for me, Joan,” she said, embracing her. “He’s such a hot-head.”
“Fear nothing,” Joan replied, “I will send him back to you as safe and well as he is now, or even better.”
Back at the Dauphin’s court at Chinon she found herself treated now like a royal princess. She had her own rooms high in the Coudray Tower inside the castle itself. This suited Belami fine. He found he could fly in and out just as he pleased. She had her own chapel too and her own priest to go with it. She could hear Mass every day. She lacked for nothing – she even had servants now, and a page.
Her page was called Louis, a slip of a lad, barely fourteen, just three years younger than she was. When they first met he was tongue-tied with awe, for by now Joan was even more famous than the Dauphin himself.
“Well, Louis, what does a page do? I’ve never had one before,” Joan asked him.
“Look after you, I suppose,” said Louis.
“But I can look after myself,” replied Joan. “I always have done.”
“What must I do then?” he asked her.
“Be a friend to me, Louis, that’s all I ask. And be a friend to my Belami. Feed him when I forget. And, Louis, if ever I get too big for my boots – and I fear I shall – then prod me and remind me I am just Joan from Domrémy, and must always remain so. Will you do that for me? Will you promise?”
After that, young Louis went everywhere with her, half an eye on Belami and half an eye on his young mistress – prodding her vanity whenever it appeared. He did this often and gently, particularly when she became overwhelmingly imperious or presumptuous which she was inclined to be from time to time. Joan came to trust in him absolutely, and so did Belami. He would sit on Louis’ finger, on his shoulder, on his head, anywhere – providing he got fed, of course.
Joan longed to be gone with the army toOrléans; but, like Robert de Beaudricourt before him, the Dauphin began to lose his nerve after his first flush of enthusiasm. His marshals complained bitterly at the prospect of having a peasant girl leading their army. Only the great Marshall La Hire was firm in his support. “We have not done so well without God’s help,” he said. “If she is from God – and she may be – then let’s have God on our side. We need Him.” The bishops too sowed new doubts about her in his mind, and the doubts preyed on him. He sent countless bishops and learned clerics up to her tower to interview her; and he sent ladies to examine her purity, to make quite sure which she was, girl or boy. The Dauphin himself accompanied her to Poitiers where she had to endure long days of interrogation before more bishops and more learned clerics. Joan bore it all stoically, though on occasion her patience worevery thin. They would ask her such silly questions, and she was always inclined to give as good as she got.
“Do you believe in God?” one asked her.
“Yes,” she snapped back, “and better than you.”
“Can you give us some proof that you are sent by God as you say you are?”
“By God’s name,” she replied. “I have not come to Poitiers to perform miracles. Lead me to Orléans, and I will show you the miracle for which I am sent.”
In the end it was not her answers that convinced the
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