Chapter 16

Today is Sunday.

In Catholicism, Sundays are meant to be kept free from one’s occupation and physical labor, and believers are encouraged to refrain from anything that might interfere with prayer.

As a devout Catholic, Jeanne faithfully observes the Church’s teachings. She takes Sundays off from work and spends the day fulfilling her duties as a believer.

From her perspective, I must have seemed strange for working without rest. Even more so if she believed I was a devout Catholic myself.

One day, she asked me why I never stopped working, even on Sundays.

“My hammering is like a blessing that makes life easier for my neighbors. Every time I swing this hammer, more believers are able to spend their Sundays in peace. This, above all else, is the prayer I offer to God.”

I couldn’t think of a convincing excuse, so I clumsily tried to talk my way out of it.

Sunday observance values rest as well. Logically, what I said didn’t really hold up.

Yet Jeanne seemed genuinely moved by my excuse. From that day on, she came every Sunday, insisting on helping with my “prayer”, my hammering.

Her help amounted to little more than bringing me food and wiping the sweat from my face with a towel.

Still, receiving such sincere kindness filled me with guilt for deceiving her.

Maybe that was why, even though I possessed barely a trace of faith myself, I couldn’t bring myself to dislike people who truly believed.

In Europe, faith is less a religion than a set of rules essential for holding society together.

I was convinced that if medieval people ever lost their faith, horrors beyond imagination would follow.

Have you ever seen an enraged mob roaming the streets, looting and setting buildings on fire?

When the Black Death swept across Europe, thieves stole from the dead so relentlessly that naked corpses littered the streets.

The bodies piled up like snow and were left where they fell. When winter arrived, the abandoned corpses became food stores for wild animals.

Once you live in a place like this, you come to understand how precious religion truly is.

People who murder simply because they dislike someone. Robbery, rape, and fraud committed without the slightest sense of guilt.

You would be astonished to see just how cruel human beings can become.

The Bible so often commands people to love their neighbors because there have always been so many who hate and torment them.

Just as Confucianism and Taoism helped shape society in Asia, Catholicism taught the beasts of Europe how to become human.

Someone who follows God’s teachings will at least hesitate once before committing a wrongdoing. And if they’re fortunate enough, they’ll stop altogether. They’re afraid of ending up in Hell.

I never thought it was a bad thing for the people of Domrémy to have faith. Religion was the greatest tool for guiding people toward virtue.

This was an age in which the light religion brought far outweighed its darkness.

“Thank you for praying with me. I always wished we could pray together, but our prayer times never matched. Today… we’re together.”

Jeanne spoke shyly.

I had invited her to spend Sundays together.

When I first asked if she was free on Sundays, I never imagined it would make her this happy.

I should have asked her much sooner. I’d always been too busy to make time, and I couldn’t help regretting it.

“You’ll have plenty of chances to pray together from now on. Even if it isn’t Sunday, I’ll let you know whenever I have the time.”

“…Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

Twitch. Twitch.

The corners of Jeanne’s mouth quivered. She quickly lowered her head and turned her back to me.

“Yes… I’d like that very much. I’m always available. You’re someone who walks with God. I’m sure I have a lot I can learn from you.”

She still kept her back to me.

“Me, with God? If God exists, I’m sure He’d rather spend His time with you than with me.

Besides, praying together was nicer than I expected.”

During prayer, I simply simulated my craftsmanship in my head.

To everyone else, it probably looked as though I was praying with complete devotion. In reality, I was just continuing my work mentally.

“…What exactly was nice about it? Please tell me in detail.”

Jeanne turned back toward me.

She moved so quickly that I deliberately ignored the way her chest swayed.

“I don’t know how to explain it. Being around you gives me positive energy. Somehow my mind feels clearer. I think faster than usual.”

I meant every word.

Whenever I was around Jeanne, I felt strangely refreshed.

My work required a great deal of thought, and thinking through problems in advance genuinely helped me save time later.

“…I don’t really understand, but… you’re saying I helped you?”

“Of course. And not just with this. You’ve always helped me.

Protecting Domrémy as captain of the village guard isn’t an easy job. If I’d been your age, I couldn’t have done what you did.”

“You’re just saying that… But thank you.”

Did she think I was only being polite?

“When I was your age, I would’ve been terrified of armed soldiers. Being afraid is the normal reaction.”

“I have people I need to protect, and… as long as I’m with you, I’m not afraid.”

Jeanne wasn’t the type to offer empty compliments.

If she said she wasn’t afraid, then she truly meant it.

I was amazed.

Of all people, Jeanne one who cried easily and wore every emotion on her sleeve was braver than anyone when faced with violence and chaos.

She’s incredible.

Even now, I still remembered the day the Burgundian soldiers raided the village like a nightmare.

It taught me just how easily I could lose my temper and my composure. I’d adapted enough that I could keep a clear head in battle now, but keeping up with rapidly changing situations was still exhausting.

Then again, it’s hardly fair to compare. War isn’t an environment any living creature is meant to adapt to. If anything, Jeanne and her siblings are the unusual ones for staying so composed even after it’s over.

That wasn’t something you could simply call courage. It meant overcoming the most fundamental instinct every living creature possessed. The instinct to survive.

“You may be fine now, but if things ever become too much, tell me. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do everything I can.”

“…I will.”

“How’s the new training program? Pierre told me the latest recruits have been performing exceptionally well.”

“They’ve all worked incredibly hard, so we’ve seen great results. It’s also thanks to the training program you designed, Maxime. But…”

“But?”

“Agathe took one of the Thunder Falcons we’d set aside for training without telling anyone.”

So she’d stolen it.

That little brat…

After raising my little sister like she was made of gold, this was the news I got?

“I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry. I wanted to handle it myself, but… Agathe’s been missing since yesterday.”

“…Leave it for now. We suddenly told her we were heading off to war. She must’ve been confused. Honestly… I probably would’ve rebelled too. I’ll talk to her and get the Thunder Falcon back.”

Jeanne still looked anxious, so I assured her there was nothing to worry about.

“More importantly, it’s about time we went to see Uncle Jacques.”

“Okay.”

Meeting Jeanne’s father was the biggest reason I’d arranged to spend the day with her.

***

Jacques d’Arc was a controlling father.

He possessed the leadership to guide the local community, and his abilities had allowed him to build a prosperous household.

Given the era, it was hardly surprising that he tried to control his youngest daughter.

You were born a woman, and you want to join the army? The only thing a woman can do in an army is become a prostitute. If you’re going to do something that disgraceful, you’d be better off getting married!

When Jeanne declared that she intended to enlist, Jacques d’Arc had opposed her with every ounce of his strength.

It was only after accompanying her into the field several times that he reluctantly acknowledged some of her talent.

Even then, earning his full approval had been a long and difficult journey. If I hadn’t stepped in, he probably still wouldn’t have accepted her.

“Welcome, Maxime. May God’s blessings always be with you.”

“Thank you for having me, Madame Isabelle.”

Isabelle welcomed me warmly.

She treated me with more affection than she did her own son, Pierre. To an outsider, I probably looked more like her child than he did.

“Showing up without so much as a word…”

“Jacques, be polite to our guest.”

“Hmph. He’s the fellow who took both my youngest son and my youngest daughter away from me. Call him a thief if you want, but don’t call him a guest.”

Ever since Jeanne had become captain of the village guard, things between Jacques and me had grown awkward.

From his perspective, I was somewhere between his greatest benefactor and his worst enemy.

He didn’t like the sight of me, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate me outright.

“So, what brings such a busy man here?”

“I came because there’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s something that will shape our future.”

“……”

“Even if my husband objects, I’m in favor of it.”

Isabelle chimed in before I’d even explained why I was there.

“I’ve received a revelation from God. He has commanded me to save a France drowning in despair. Jeanne and I are going to join the war to save our country.”

Bang!

Jacques slammed his fist into the wall.

“So that’s what this is about…”

“What Maxime said is true. I’ve been receiving revelations for years.”

“You dare—”

“If things continue like this, France will fall. Aren’t you worried about the future of Domrémy, a village that supports the Armagnac faction? The fact that we’ve survived this long is nothing short of a miracle. Once the Burgundians and the English send reinforcements south, Domrémy won’t stand a chance.”

“Enough! Don’t you lecture me about politics!”

“Do you not believe our revelations?”

“I don’t believe words alone!”

Jacques reached toward the wall and pulled down a spear.

I’d forged that spear myself. I knew perfectly well it wasn’t decorative. It was a battlefield weapon with a razor-sharp point.

“Jacques!”

As Madame Isabelle cried out, the cold steel pressed against my throat.

A chilling sensation ran through me.

I glanced down to see a thin stream of blood trickling from my neck.

Jeanne tried to rush toward Jacques, but I stopped her with one hand. The blade bit deeper into my flesh, yet I didn’t so much as flinch.

“Can you take responsibility for my daughter? If a single word out of your mouth is a lie, I’ll drive this spear straight through you.”

“I can. And I will. If giving my life is what it takes, then I’ll do so willingly.”

“Those aren’t just empty words?”

“I can even change history. That’s why I can say I’ll take responsibility.”

“……”

Jacques and I locked eyes.

A great deal passed between us without either of us saying a word.

That should be enough to convince him I’m serious.

Contrary to my expectations, Jacques interpreted my words in a completely different way.

If he’s willing to stake his life on my daughter, then he’s saying he’ll take responsibility for her… by marrying her.

As far as Jacques was concerned, I wasn’t the kind of man who would ever go back on his word.

“If you come back with her dead, I’ll kill you.”

“If either of us is going to die, it’ll be me first.”

“Even if you’re already dead, I’ll hunt down your soul and kill that too.”

“…Let’s just make sure we both come back alive.”

Only then did Jacques lower the spear.

Madame Isabelle looked as though she were on the verge of fainting.

Jeanne glared at her father while pressing a cloth against my neck to stop the bleeding.

That went more smoothly than I expected.

I was the only one who seemed satisfied with how the conversation had gone.

***

Agathe Blanche.

She believed she was living a worthless life.

The villagers were always praising the Blanche family.

Maxime Blanche, the pride of the village.

Coat Blanche, the gifted craftsman of the forge.

The eldest son shone so brilliantly that people could hardly stop talking about him, while the second son possessed remarkable talent of his own.

The brighter they shone, the more Agathe felt like hopeless trash.

No one ever spoke about her.

Whenever people praised the Blanche family, Agathe was completely absent from the conversation.

She wanted to prove that she had value.

She wanted to stop feeling like she was worthless.

At first, she tried working at the forge. Although it was an unspoken rule that women did not become blacksmiths, no one in the Blanche family discouraged her from trying.

…She simply wasn’t talented.

She had believed that because greatness ran in the family, she could do it too, even as a woman.

Instead, her physical limitations left her with less aptitude than even an average man.

The only thing Agathe was good at was playing harmless pranks that didn’t upset anyone.

She didn’t want to spend her life as nothing more than the village clown.

She wanted to be someone who genuinely helped others.

It wasn’t just jealousy.

The people she cherished were all fighting in their own ways.

She didn’t want to be the only one left behind in safety.

Sorry, Jeanne… but this is something I have to do.

That was why she’d stolen the Thunder Falcon.