We ain’t seen our maiden for nigh on … how long?
Well, it’s 2015, isn’t it? Right on.
Back in the 15th Century, in the year
1429, there lived a man named Jean.
People called him The Bastard of Orleans.
Jean was the illegitimate son of King
Louis and Mariette of Enghein. Think
of John Snow from Game of Thrones. That was Jean, the
Bastard. He was real, though, and became a bon
friend to Joan, the Maiden of Orleans, though
their initial meeting was less than chummy.
It was a windy day in France. Joan rode up
with her banner flapping in the breeze. She looked
at Jean and said, “You there … are you The Bastard?”
“Yes, I am, and I rejoice in your coming,”
He replied, kneeling like a gentleman. She
sighed. “Are you the one who questioned my orders
and told me not to attack the English?” Jean
gulped, then looked around at his associates,
all of whom were suddenly interested
in the sky or their boots or the ground. “Well … yes.
I and others, m’lady,” he stammered. “The
wisest men around me had given this ad-
vice, believing it best and safest.” Joan laughed,
pointed to her eye, tapped her heart twice and blew
snot on The Bastard’s boot. She turned around and
raised her right hand. Suddenly the wind stopped. She
smirked and waived her banner left and right. The wind
picked up in the opposite direction, then
Joan put her right hand to her ear and looked at
The Bastard. In his head he heard Her Voice and
it was angry. This is what she said to him:
“Our Lord God is wiser and safer than yours.
You thought you could fool me and instead you fool
yourself. I bring you better help than ever
came to you from any soldier to any
city. It’s the help of the King of Heaven.”