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Chapters (43)
  1. Cover
  2. Epigraph
  3. CAST OF CHARACTERS
  4. Map
  5. Part One
  6. I
  7. II
  8. III
  9. IV
  10. V
  11. VI
  12. VII
  13. Part Two
  14. I
  15. II
  16. III
  17. IV
  18. V
  19. VI
  20. VII
  21. VIII
  22. IX
  23. X
  24. Part Three
  25. I
  26. II
  27. III
  28. IV
  29. V
  30. Part Four
  31. I
  32. II
  33. III
  34. IV
  35. V
  36. VI
  37. EPILOGUE
  38. afterword
  39. Dedication
  40. acknowledgments
  41. By Katherine J. Chen
  42. about the author
  43. What’s next onyour reading list?

She has been gripping the bars of the cage, and from below, a sound like the scraping of metal reaches her, harsh and grating. In her hands, she sees the bars are now slightly bent. Not by much, yet the gap between them is larger than before. Not enough to slip through. Not enough for anything. Yet it is there; it exists.

Call it what you like. A sign. A miracle. Though she is a prisoner, nothing has changed. And if this is possible, what else may she do if given the chance? So, she will bide her time. She will be patient. If she is tried by the church, she will say what she needs to say to survive.

She thinks, I have become more than just myself. I am here, in this cage. But I have another body, which is unseen. I am the battle cry, the roar of spears, pikes, and poleaxes rattling. I am the sound of a hundred horses thundering down a hill and the wind that ripples through banners, the swing of a catapult, the deafening blast and explosion of cannonry. Every soldier, young and old, who goes to war shall think of me and carry me in his soul. A hundred years from now, the sound of my name will still make the English shake, though my own people will look upon me tenderly, with pride and with love. Before each battle, the foot soldiers, artillerymen, and sappers will bend their heads and call my name. They will say, Joan, give me strength and courage, and I shall hear them, wherever I am. I can never die.

Here is God, in the sky and the rosy mist, ready to strike a bargain. In the roar of the waves she hears the cheers of the people—her people. She hears her sister’s laughter and knows it comes from Paradise.

God is listening. Into His ear, she prays. That is, she tells Him: I, Joan, will return. All prayers are wishes, but this is not a wish.

It is a promise.

afterword

I don’t know when the idea to write about Joan of Arc first came to me. Only that it did, and for the last four years, she has been my constant companion and most steadfast friend. It is still strange to describe the evolution by which a historical character can become more real than the people in the next room. But that is what happened, and no wonder: Joan is a remarkable individual.