Black clouds and drenching rain and shattering waves hit those ships at sea. That storm hurtled in from the west, crashing along the channel, thunder and lightning obliterating what had been a mild blue sky towards a spring day’s end. Out of nowhere, men and women later said.

Many died in the wreckage of many ships.

Good men, bad men. The sea does not care.

Jeanette knows she never invoked it. Had only prayed, as always, for respite, safety, protection for Ferrieres and its people. And its king. She always prayed for the king. She would not ask Jad to kill any of his mortal children for her, though if battle came she’d take that on herself, as best she could.

She calls herself a soldier but knows nothing of warfare. Not even how to properly use her sword. Her older brother has been learning how to fight, and the younger is unexpectedly good with horses.

She only knows, absolutely, in her soul, that the god is guiding her. She doesn’t know why. Why her. It is not a question she asks any more. She only hears him, or voices that speak his will. She never doubts that now.

She is told, within, when she stands up on the strand by the sea, the sky still blue in that morning moment, that she must start back south. She is to go to a place called Chervaux, and send word ahead that the court should meet her there. And the king, she is told.

“And the king,” she says to the riders she sends. They have a few horses now. Her older brother Peire is one of the riders. They have not been apart since leaving Broché. This is new. She will miss him. She is still not afraid.

He rides to Orane, while other riders go ahead of her to this place named Chervaux on the Livraise, wherever that is. She does not know the world, where places are.

Nearly five hundred people are with her now, almost all from the countryside, or villages, walking through Ferrieres. Trusting her. It can be called an army, if someone wants to do that. Their weapons are sticks and staves, pitchforks, rusted family swords, some knives and daggers. They are given food and drink wherever they pass. People kneel before Jeanette now when she goes by. She doesn’t like that but cannot stop it from happening.

She does not know how her brother succeeds in getting word to the palace, to the queen.

But by then the tale of the Maiden has spread. Some clerics are deeply suspicious; others choose to see her as a miracle sent by Jad. From the start Jeanette has divided people. This never changes. But Peire is admitted into the palace, to the queen, and he says what his sister has told him to say.