La Hire is here. He would not miss a fight, though Dunois has excused himself. He has said to her, regret in his voice, I cannot go against His Majesty’s wishes. But a surprise: one of the King’s own cousins, the Duke of Alençon, has joined her.

“My God,” La Hire says when he hears Dunois will not come. “You know what this has turned into, Joan. It’s not about taking back the capital anymore. It is about you and the King. Who is on whose side.”

But all she feels is anger, and it is not even anger at His Majesty. Her meeting with Jacques is still fresh on her mind. Those who do nothing, who stand by and watch as chaos unravels, who feel that as long as they are alive and in good health, it does not matter what else is happening in front of them, why should they be innocent? They are guilty, too.

When she rallies her men, a pulse in her forehead throbs. The King would like everything both ways: his peace treaty with Burgundy kept intact, though if Joan can take Paris with an army of three thousand, then all the better for France’s negotiations with her enemies.

It is the eighth of September, the feast day of the Nativity of the Virgin. One should not fight on holy days, but there are so many saints in Christendom.

“The walls of Paris may be tall, they may be well fortified,” she tells her men. “But our strength is greater. Our courage is greater. And do not forget: I will be with you.”

La Hire squeezes her arm, tugs her back. “These are bad odds,” he says. “It is still not too late.” She sees he has been rehearsing this speech in his head. “Your men, they will understand if you decide to give up the battle today, if you choose to fight another morning. None of them will think any less of you, I will make sure of it. And this may be a blessing. There will be other opportunities, perhaps ones more fortuitous than this. Other chances to take Paris, and with more men than what we have now when you regain the King’s support.” He stops to see if his words have had any effect. They haven’t. “Friends are like this,” he continues. “Good friends, the best of friends. Sometimes, they hate each other because of some perceived slight. And then they come together and wonder what it was they were fighting about. They return to a state of perfect amity and are able to laugh at past events.”