sovbooks Chapter 29 The Girl from Orleans
Chapter 29 The Girl from Orleans
"Tell me more about this girl. Is she really a country girl?"
Dunoir and Alençon stood on the city wall, gazing at Orléans. Except for a few soldiers on duty, almost everyone rushed to meet the supply convoy that was entering the city.
"Uncle Dinoir, it's absolutely true. I heard from Arthur that at least two months ago, she was just a shepherdess in Champagne. Her name was the same as my wife's, Jeanne—but now? Everyone calls her 'The Maid of Orléans'."
Dinoire pointed to the large banner in the center of the city: "When did the shepherdess learn these skills? I've been besieged in the city for six months, have all the women of Champagne changed? Who taught her these skills? Where did she get her audacity?"
Alenson shook his head: "I don't know either. Perhaps... it really is a gift from God. Sir, do you know? Some people have already started calling her a saint."
Dinoire chuckled. "I've been called 'the bastard son of Orleans' for so many years, and she became a saint after just one day?" He stopped laughing. "But we should indeed thank her for bringing reinforcements. By the way, where is she?"
Alençon pointed to the spire in the city: "She said she was going to church."
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Metz had never realized he was so popular—citizens surrounded them, reaching out to touch them, and even he, in his armor, could barely keep up. He only caught his breath as the large banner entered the church and the frenzied crowd was kept at bay.
The priest leading the way was a little embarrassed: "Everyone has been besieged for half a year, so they are especially excited to see Miss Joan of Arc bring reinforcements. We wouldn't normally be like this."
Joan of Arc shook her head, indicating that she was alright. She planted the flag at the church entrance, stepped into the chapel, and found that only the stone platform remained inside; not a single bench was left.
The priest was somewhat embarrassed: "Lord Dinois didn't dismantle the church, but he saw that the pews were made of pine, so he took them down to use as timber. However, you don't necessarily have to sit to pray, so it doesn't make much of a difference."
Joan of Arc nodded, knelt before the altar, and began to pray silently. Metz and the others followed suit.
After a long prayer, Joan of Arc rose and asked, "Father, did you hold a Grand Mass after the siege?"
Seeing the priest's confusion, she added, "In my hometown, requiem masses are usually held after war. Orleans has been besieged for so long; I'm afraid quite a few people have died, haven't they?"
The priest sighed, "That's to be expected. But the atmosphere in the city has been very tense for the past six months, and I really can't find any manpower. The soldiers are all on duty, the citizens have to participate in militia training, the monks have to go around praying for the dead, and even the nuns have to help take care of the wounded."
Joan of Arc pointed to herself: "If you don't mind, we reinforcements can serve as manpower. Orleans has suffered too much—it needs a requiem mass."
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Alençon pushed open the doors to the council chamber. Dinois was frowning at the map, while the other generals were scattered around the candlesticks. The dimly lit hall was filled with the smell of burnt soot.
"Lord Dinois," Alençon said, walking to the table, "Miss Joan of Arc said she cannot come for the time being; she is preparing for a major mass with the church."
LaHail frowned. "Mass? At this time? We're still at war!"
"She said morale in the city was low and a requiem mass was needed." Alençon paused. "She also suggested that prayers be offered for the dead outside the city—including the English. She hoped that envoys could be sent to discuss with the English whether they could jointly collect the bodies."
A moment of silence fell over the room. La Hire scoffed, "Praying for the British? And expecting those monsters to agree to collect the corpses? I think she's overestimating the British! I'd say the British would never agree."
Giles remained silent, only looking at Dinois.
Dinois was silent for a moment, then raised his hand to stop La Hire from speaking: "The city does indeed need a mass. The soldiers have been trapped for half a year, and their morale cannot depend solely on the supplies you bring. As for leaving the city—" He glanced at Alençon, "we'll deal with the situation inside the city first. As for the matter outside, let her send a messenger to the British herself and see if they agree."
Before La Hire could say anything more, Dinois turned to the map: "Let's put the plan to attack the western fortress on hold for now. You've just entered the city, the defenses haven't been fully handed over, and you're not familiar with the terrain. Let's scout for a few more days, and then make our move after Mass is over and morale has recovered."
The crowd nodded in agreement and departed. Dinois called out to Alençon.
He lowered his voice: "Let me tell you the truth, has this girl always been so reckless? Not only did she not come to see me, but she wanted to hold a mass as soon as she entered the city, and then go out of the city to collect corpses? Does she even know that Orleans is still under siege?"
Alenson thought for a moment and said, "If you ask me, she's practically omniscient. If she wants to do something, she must have her reasons."
Dinois glanced at the young man but didn't ask any more questions.
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The messenger set off from the north gate, headed to the nearest castle, "Paris Castle," and quickly returned.
The British response was straightforward—no. Not only did they refuse, but the envoy was also driven back by longbowmen who shouted insults at him.
"They said..." the messenger said, his head bowed and his voice strained, "that the English have no bodies to collect. But the French bodies should just rot in the dirt. They even called you... a cowherd whore."
Metz looked at Joan of Arc, who stood there silently.
Mass was celebrated as usual.
At dawn, the bells of the Basilica of Santa Croce rang. The sound of the Mass bells poured down from the bell tower, echoing throughout the city of Orléans, across the desolate fields littered with corpses outside the city, and reaching all the way to the English fortifications.
The cross was held high at the head of the procession, and the silver statue of Christ gleamed softly in the morning light. Joan of Arc followed behind, carrying her large fleur-de-lis banner. Soldiers in armor and citizens and monks held candles. The procession started from the church, passed through the main streets of Orléans, circled the demolished houses, and went past alleyways piled with sandbags, step by step, traversing the entire city.
The ranks grew longer and longer. Six months of siege, six months of death, gunfire, and fear had all transformed into those low, mournful prayers.
When they returned to the church entrance, half of Orléans was already following behind the banner. Joan of Arc, carrying the battle flag, climbed the steps, turned around, and faced the dark mass of people.
"Citizens and soldiers of Orléans!" her voice boomed, "Count Dunois led you in holding out for six months—you are the bravest men in France!"
A low sob rose from the crowd.
"And today, we have arrived!" Joan of Arc waved her banner, irises unfurling in the wind. "I assure you—the siege of Orleans will soon end! This city will surely regain peace!"
Cheers surged up like a tide, crashing against the church's stone walls.
After the commotion subsided, Joan of Arc continued, "Outside the city are our compatriots, and our enemies. Their bones are scattered in the moats, in the fields, and in places we cannot see. The English refused our request to collect the bodies out of fear, but we will not give up on appeasing them because of this."
She turned around, planted the iris banner at the church entrance, and knelt down.
Half the city knelt down with her.
The bells rang again, one after another, flowing into the deserted wilderness outside the city.
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At noon, the east gate of Orléans—the Burgundy Gate—opened, and a group of a dozen or so people dressed as priests and nuns were released from the city. They carried crosses aloft, wore white vestments, and circled the city walls. Then, praying loudly, they walked past the frozen, rotting, and half-buried corpses, approaching the moat beside the English fortifications.
British sentries peered out from behind the earthen ramparts, watching them, but there was no artillery fire or arrow shooting. Some lower-ranking soldiers even removed their helmets and made the sign of the cross on their chests.
And so, the British troops outside the city watched this small contingent walk through the inner circle of the blockade and return to the city through the east gate.
After attending Mass, the French generals returned to the council chamber and continued to rack their brains about the main attack direction until nightfall—the debate was only interrupted when the doors were pushed open.
The newcomer was dressed in a nun's black robe.
Alençon stood at the door, about to stop her, when he saw the "nun" remove her hood, revealing blonde hair. He recognized her: "Miss Joan of Arc, why are you wearing a nun's habit?"
Joan of Arc glanced around, her gaze settling on the map marking the English earthen ramparts outside the city. "I just finished Mass," she said, pointing to several ramparts in the northeast corner. "These—their structure is loose, and the morale of the defenders is low. The roads to the ramparts in other directions are not very smooth, so reinforcements can't get through. We should attack here first."
There was a moment of silence in the room. Lahail opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Dinois looked at her for a moment: "How did you know?"
Joan of Arc raised her head: "I saw it with my own eyes outside the city; I was in the procession praying outside the city. When I was closest, I could see the appearance of the defenders—most of them were listless and clearly did not want to fight anymore."
Dinois remained silent for a few moments, then turned to the map.
"Then let's try it as she says. We'll send troops as soon as reinforcements arrive."