“I never did teach you how to make blancmanger, did I,” the cook says to her. He looks sad that she is leaving. He has heard the story of what she has done. (His reaction was indifferent: Joan is good at everything; if she can expertly slice apart a fish, why should she not be a natural at the bow?) His world is the kitchen. The goings-on of the rest of the garrison didn’t concern him.

“No, but you can teach him, can’t you?”

Then she leaves. If all goes smoothly, the journey will take no more than two weeks, much of it through enemy land. During the day, they sleep while two of their company keep watch. At night they ride. Each morning Joan dreams with sunlight in her eyes.

She had asked the Duke, “Why am I going to Chinon?”

“To meet His Majesty the Dauphin.”

“Why am I going to meet His Majesty the Dauphin?”

“Because you may be useful to him.”

“How may I be useful?”

He sighed. The saints give me strength, his expression said.

Later, during their journey, the royal messenger explains in his lilting manner, as if speaking to a child: “Sometimes a lord will present his king with a gift to remind him of his loyalty. Sometimes this gift is a beautiful book. Other times a chest of gold or a lion cub or a feather from a griffin’s wing.”

“I am none of those things,” Joan says.

“Well, if you do not please, we can probably find you a job in the kitchens” is his answer. He sees from her face that she is still confused.

“I am being brought to Chinon to work in the kitchens?” she asks, and the messenger groans.

It is during these days, eleven in all, that the knight, Bertrand de Poulengy, and the squire, Jean de Metz, teach her to spar. They tell her the various parts of armor and the sections of a castle, describe to her strange weapons she has never heard of, weapons with names like holy water sprinkler and morning star. They show her how to properly hold a sword.

On day one, she is beaten by the two men training her. First the squire, and then the knight, knocks her to the ground. But if she is breathless, they are, too. It puzzles them. A whole lifetime’s training against one who is new to fighting: Gaining the upper hand should be easier, so why isn’t it? And she recovers quickly. She is hungry to learn more, even if it comes at the cost of pain. They tell her to use her shoulders and every part of the sword, even the hilt. They tell her to use her fists, if that will help her win a fight. And she does.