My thoughts were completely absorbed by my family; so I listened halfheartedly to the news which filtered into the palace and was avidly seized on by the others.
Guillemote’s stream of talk broke into my reverie.
“I believe it to be true,” she said.
“What do you believe, Guillemote?” I asked.
“That The Maid has been sent by God.”
“Oh, you are talking of that again, are you?”
“My lady…dear madam, everyone is talking about it.”
“Do they still think she is divine?”
“They do not think that she is divine…just that she is a messenger from God.”
“Well, would that not make her divine?”
“She does not say that she is. She says she is a simple girl who hears voices commanding her to take up arms and lead the soldiers to victory.”
I yawned slightly and stroked the little shift I was embroidering. “Orléans will fall to the French they say,” went on Guillemote. “And if it does, that will be the turning point. It will be Paris next.”
“Orléans fall!” I said.
“Yes…the siege. The English have been holding on. It is hoped that they are on the verge of surrender. Joan the Maid is there leading the men on, urging them to break through the walls and rescue Orléans.”
“How can she…a woman …?”
“With the help of God,” said Guillemote.
“Guillemote, you can’t really believe …”
Guillemote looked at me steadily and said: “I do believe.”
“The Duke of Bedford will never allow it.”
“What hope has he? He is losing Burgundy’s friendship. It only lingers on because Burgundy loves his sister Anne, who pleads with him not to desert her husband.”
“This is gossip.”
“Mayhap. But there is often truth in gossip. If Orléans should fall, men will flock to The Maid. It will prove that she has led her fellow countrymen to achieve what seemed impossible.”
“You are bemused by this Maid.”
“Madame…the whole of France is bemused by this Maid.”
I could not take these tales seriously, but I soon learned that I should.
Orléans was taken and this was a resounding victory for the French.
I could not help thinking of my brother-in-law Bedford. He must be disconsolate. It had been a sacred mission for him to carry out Henry’s wishes and keep—and add to—the possessions in France. And now one of the key cities was lost. It was not only this loss but the effect the victory would have on the army which was losing its spirit as well as much of the land conquered by Henry.
Owen was dismayed by the news. He repeated his conviction that it could never have happened if Henry had been alive.
“I cannot imagine what this will mean,” he said. “It is hard to believe that one victory like this can change the course of the war. But it seems this is not all. The Maid has aroused a new spirit in France. And when people are fighting for their own country, they seem to acquire a special strength.”
“You cannot believe this story of The Maid’s being sent by God?”
“There are many strange things that happen on earth which are beyond our understanding. This might be one of them. Moreover, we have to consider this victory, this new spirit which is arising in France. The Dauphin is now bestirring himself.”
“My brother never wanted the crown.”
“It seems that The Maid has inspired him to now.”
Owen had discovered that messengers were constantly crossing the Channel. The Duke of Bedford was keeping the Council informed. Even I, absorbed as I was in the child I had and the one who was coming, could not be unaware that momentous events were taking place.
One day a messenger came to Hatfield.
I was alarmed. I had hoped that few had been aware of my change of residence, but the fact that this messenger came meant that the move was not unknown.
He was French and had been in the service of my father at one time; and I think it was for this reason that he had made the perilous journey to Hatfield to see me.
He wanted to give me the news in person, for he did not forget that, although I was the Queen of England, I was also a French princess.
I could see that he thought he had brought me good news.
I welcomed him, feeling greatly relieved that my pregnancy, as yet, was not apparent.
He told me that there was great rejoicing in France, and the news he brought was that my brother had been crowned in Rheims.
How could that be? I wondered. My little Henry was the acknowledged King of France. It had been part of the treaty of peace which had been signed between my parents and my husband who had graciously allowed my father to bear the title until his death, and my father was now dead. Henry would have been King had he lived, and then none would have dared raise a voice against that—but now he was dead and the crown had gone to his son Henry.
So how could my brother Charles be crowned King?
“The Maid came with him to the cathedral,” said the messenger. “It was a goodly sight indeed. She carried her banner high. ‘Jhesus Maria.’ So bold it was that all could read it. Her face shone with glory, my lady. All knew that she was God’s messenger.”
“And my brother…the Dauphin …”
“The Dauphin no longer, my lady, but King Charles VII of France.”
I wanted to say: that cannot be. I could see Henry’s face before me, shining with victory. If he had lived…oh, but if he had lived, everything would have been different. Owen would not now be my husband. Edmund would not have been born. I felt the child move within me as though to remind me of its presence.
No. If Henry had lived, it would have been a different story.
“Hope is springing up throughout France, my lady. It is hard to believe that this could have happened. It is a different country. The people have been given hope. And all through The Maid. But when you see her…my lady…that radiant goodness…it is not difficult to understand why.”
I lowered my head, and the messenger seemed suddenly to realize that, although I had been a princess of France, that was no longer my country and he was talking of the defeat of the one to which I now belonged.
I wanted to ease his embarrassment. I said: “It was good of you to come to me with this news. I thank you. It must have been a very hazardous journey for you.”
“I served your father. I knew of his love for you. I see now …”
“No…no,” I assured him. “It was good of you. I thank you. You must be refreshed. I wish you a safe journey back.”
He left me…subdued.
The weeks were passing. My pregnancy was beginning to show itself. September was coming to an end, and the mornings were misty; the trees were taking on their autumnal tints. Before the year was out, my baby would be born.
I remembered the day well. Messengers came riding to the palace. They always caused me great disquiet. If my enemy Gloucester discovered that Owen and I had broken the law and married—even though the law was made after our marriage—I could not guess what our fate would be. They would perhaps not dare harm me, and as my brother now called himself the King of France, they would have to act with caution. It was Owen for whom I feared. They would call him a traitor. I trembled for Owen.