Afterward in Joan’s room, La Hire ambles up to her. “By the way…” His voice becomes shy. “Dunois and I have a wager. He says there are people in the world, rare but in existence, who are, in fact, born both as men and as women. They have breasts, but they have cocks as well.”

Joan glances at him, keeps her face straight. “Here I was thinking you and my lord Dunois were spending your time wisely, planning battles, organizing France’s army, being the preeminent captains of this side of the war.”

“Oh, we did that in the first five minutes of our talk.”

“It shows,” she replies.

“You are a woman, are you not?” he asks. He is almost blushing. “It is just, I want my five livres if you are. But if you aren’t, then we will keep it a secret between us, since I have spent all my money.”

“Lose another wager?” she asks.

“You avoid the question,” he says, smiling at her. “So, you imply that you may or may not have a cock. Well, I shall tell Dunois that there is every possibility he is right, then.”

“Don’t let the question keep you up at night, my friend.”

“Only when my bed is empty,” he replies, “which is a rare occasion these days. Everyone likes a winner.” He adds, after a pause, he is serious, “But it is your name the people call out. It is ‘Joan’ that is on their lips, not ‘La Hire.’ You are like the warrior Yde, the lady who fled from her father and became a knight. Do you know the story? Every tournament was hers to win until an angel turned her into a man because a princess had fallen in love with her.”

There is no resemblance between La Hire and Durand Laxart. One is built like an angry cannon; the other, a reed that nods to every passing breeze. Yet she feels it could be her uncle standing next to her, ready with another tale to tell. And she wonders what he, Durand, is doing now. What tricks he is up to. For a moment, she feels a small panic. She hopes he has a pallet to sleep on, a roof over his head. She hopes he isn’t going hungry. Then she remembers, he is a better survivor than she will ever be. If he goes one day without dinner and a bed, then tomorrow he will be patting his full belly and whistling a song. He will be admiring a new pair of boots, fit for a lord.

And she is not like Yde, for she would rather keep her womanhood. Yde was already a great knight before the angel transformed her, so why did she change?

“What would I gain by being a man?” she says. “A cock, a deeper voice, hair across my chest. I would not become stronger. I am already strong.”