Chapter 28

In the early hours before dawn, Jeanne d’Arc’s body was hot from the sweat she had shed throughout the night. She hurriedly wiped herself down with a damp cloth.

Sweat poured off her like rain. Trying to ease her fatigue, she wiped herself down once more with the wet cloth. Mentally, she found this far more difficult than leading people.

Beneath the clear morning sky, her heart was heavy as she prayed.

Our Father in Heaven, this weak and unworthy soul confesses before You. I am nothing but a shameful human being who has failed to repay the grace You bestowed upon me. I repent for failing to guard my heart last night…

She had realized that Maxime reacted sensitively whenever their bodies touched. That realization had led to a furtive longing, which in turn led her to repeatedly seek physical contact while pretending not to notice what she was doing. It stirred in her a sense of sinful transgression in a way she had never imagined experiencing in her entire life.

My reason was shaken by the desires of the flesh, and I sullied my hands with shameful deeds. Please wash away the murky current within me and rekindle the lamp of chastity. Forgive me for my weakness in yielding to temptation…

She was an unmarried woman.

Her act of self-pleasure had amounted to little more than rubbing herself slightly through her clothes, yet she felt such overwhelming guilt that it was as though she had lost her virginity.

If I am only going to keep falling prey to such wicked temptation, perhaps it would be better to enter into a proper marriage… N-No, Lord, I truly repent…!

Jeanne startled at the desire that had slipped into her thoughts even in the middle of prayer. She hurriedly bowed her head and silently offered up a prayer of repentance.

***

We arrived in Blois. A three-hundred-man supply convoy carrying provisions for Orléans joined us there.

“The first thing we need to do is deliver supplies to the defenders of Orléans, whose supply lines have been cut off. Unless we accomplish that first, we have no chance of winning the siege.”

“If it’s that urgent, we should join them immediately. Do we really have time to waste on discussions?”

“…If it were up to me, I’d like to join them right away as well, but reaching them isn’t that simple.

Since the Battle of the Herrings, the English have heavily fortified the Bastille Saint-Laurent to the west and the Tourelles to the south. It’ll be difficult for a force as large as ours to enter Orléans all at once.”

It was nothing like the conventional image of two opposing armies divided between north and south, struggling against one another across a front line.

The enemy was on the outside. Our allies were trapped inside, surrounded by the enemy. The situation itself forced losses upon our side.

Under those circumstances, Orléans had been cut off from supplies for quite some time. As a result, despite the city’s importance, few Frenchmen genuinely believed it could be defended.

I brought the others, who were struggling with a problem that had no clear answer, back to the practical course of action.

“Let’s send a letter to our allies in Orléans. They’re the ones who know the situation best. Once we know what’s happening, we’ll have a better idea of the most appropriate way to respond.”

“Exactly! I wholeheartedly agree with the saint!”

It was hardly a remarkable suggestion, yet Gilles de Rais openly voiced his support. At this rate, anyone watching would assume he was my knight. I planned to call him aside later and warn him about it.

“…I’m ready to fight even now. But I also agree with Maxi… with your judgment.”

Jeanne d’Arc added her support as well.

My proposal carried no risk and made logical sense. It passed without any particular opposition.

Still, some of the commanders were visibly displeased by the very idea of discussing military matters with an uneducated country peasant like me.

If the Duke of Alençon and several of the knights had not supported me, the meeting probably would have ended long ago.

Four days later.

“We’ve received a reply from Count Jean de Dunois.”

Count Dunois was the Duke of Orléans’s brother. He was currently leading the relief forces.

There had originally been other commanders as well, but they were now devoting all their strength to recovering from the wounds they had suffered at the Battle of the Herrings. Returning to the field was out of the question.

“He sent us a map showing a route that will let us detour to the south. He says that if we follow the embankment to Chécy, a village upstream, his men can take possession of the supplies there.

As long as we give them the word, they’ll immediately attack the English forces to draw their attention!”

Our attempt at communication had paid off. Learning about the alternate route alone had made sending the messenger worthwhile.

“Even if we take a detour, there’s no way the English won’t notice that many people moving.”

“If we go by boat… it’ll be difficult to transport all nine hundred of us.”

“Why don’t we secure the alternate route and use boats only as a supplementary means of transporting the supplies?”

“But if we’re moving the supplies, we’ll have to cross the river eventually, won’t we? We’ll need boats sturdy and large enough to carry everyone.”

“Then why don’t we drastically reduce the number of men and focus solely on delivering the supplies?”

The situation changed by the moment. In an age when communication was slow, there was no single correct answer. Everyone had their own ideas, and the meeting room grew chaotic as opinions clashed and overlapped.

I listened to everything, taking into account the map, the situation, and the various opinions. The more I heard, the deeper I sank into thought.

If Jeanne d’Arc were leading us, I feel like we could break through the English defenses even with a straightforward charge… But there’s no way such a reckless proposal would ever pass. Jeanne’s combat ability hasn’t been proven yet.

I couldn’t simply sit back and watch how things unfolded. The commanders’ ideas weren’t exactly encouraging. If I stood by and did nothing, our losses would only grow.

After giving it some thought, I spoke up.

“We can get through the alternate route before the enemy has time to properly respond.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“We need to overhaul the supply convoy and its logistics. Give me one week. I’ll show you what the technical unit is capable of.”

“Listen, if you start tampering with the supplies we’ve worked so hard to stockpile—”

“I agree! I agree wholeheartedly!! Every knight among us has complete faith in the saint!”

“……”

The meeting concluded with me taking charge of the operation to join up with the forces at Orléans.

Some still had their concerns, but faced with one particular knight’s madness, they were unable to put up much of an argument.

***

I gathered the technical unit and brought out wedges and squares.

The men from Domrémy strictly followed the simplified division of labor I had taught them, taking charge of their respective roles within the technical unit.

“First, let’s unload everything from the wagons.”

…“…”

The newcomers to the technical unit looked overwhelmed by the sheer size of the supply train, but since it was an order from the saint, they reluctantly accepted their fate.

With the soldiers helping us, it didn’t take long to unload and sort the supplies.

“If we want to reduce the time spent moving supplies, efficient and systematic loading is essential. Right now, every wagon is built to different dimensions and comes in a different size, so the supplies loaded onto them are scattered around without any consistency.”

I inspected every packaged item. We reorganized the supplies, and whenever necessary, broke apart the crates they had come in and rebuilt them to standardized dimensions.

“Pierre, gather the soldiers and have them take the test I made. Anyone who passes will be assigned to logistics. Tell them there’ll be a small bonus as well.”

If we wanted to shorten transportation time, we needed people capable of understanding and coordinating the organized movement of supplies. Most of the promising candidates came from the supply convoy.

“This is a load-handling capstan I designed. It’ll help us raise and lower the crates.”

I then reorganized the wagon train, which had previously been arranged without any consistency, grouping the wagons according to size.

I reorganized the supplies loaded onto the wagons as well. Thanks to that, the carrying capacity of the same wagons increased by nearly thirty percent. Some could carry almost fifty percent more than before.

My experience working as an ace at a logistics center while I was on leave from college came in handy.

“There’s too much friction in the wheel bearings. Let’s pull them all out and improve them.”

“Brother, you workaholic fucking lunatic…!”

I worked with Coat’s agonized groans as my background music.

We improved the wheels just as we had done with the wagons we rode from Vaucouleurs and applied plenty of lubricant.

As a result, the wagons could carry more while moving far more smoothly than before.

“There are improvements we can make to the transport boats as well. First, let’s install fixed ramps for unloading supplies. Most of the transport boats are small, so the ramps need to be firmly anchored to the shore.”

We also installed sluice gates that could block the current or regulate the flow of water during unloading.

For the medium-sized vessels, we added folding ramps at the bow and stern that could connect directly to the wagons.

The folding ramps had a limited weight capacity, however, so they could only be used for the relatively light crates classified as Grade C. I even had warning illustrations painted on the ramps to keep the soldiers from making mistakes.

A week passed, just as I had promised.

“As promised, all preparations are complete. We’ve also conducted trial runs with the selected soldiers, so there shouldn’t be any problems putting everything into practice immediately.”

“…….”

The commanders who were witnessing the way I worked for the first time couldn’t keep up with how mechanically precise and relentless the entire process was.

A select few had offered to help me, and those commanders who tried to match my pace quickly found themselves struggling to keep up with the speed of the work.

“Where… did all this knowledge of yours come from?”

“The Lord watches over me and has blessed me with these revelations.”

Once again, I invoked God’s name to explain myself.

***

We set out from Blois for Orléans.

The departure ceremony was religious in nature. Priests distributed banners, and Jeanne took one depicting Jesus and the Virgin Mary.

“Let’s proceed according to our original plan. As soon as we’re in position, we’ll begin transporting the supplies, while our six hundred troops enter Orléans. The remaining convoy will deliver the supplies as originally planned and then return to Blois.”

The operation began, utilizing both wagons and transport boats. Walter seemed to know there was nothing for him to do, so he lay quietly inside my wagon.

As promised, Dunois attacked the English garrison at Saint-Laurent on the northern bank of the river. At first glance, the diversion appeared to be working.

“Once we get past that bank ahead, we’ll reach Chécy, just as planned!”

“Good. Pick up the pace and prepare to launch the transport boats.”

“Wait! Arrows!”

The English, having noticed the reinforcements, began firing arrows at us.

“Get the shields! Protect the wagons with whatever you can!”

But their attack didn’t last long.

“The attack… stopped?”

“…They’re putting up less resistance than I expected.”

“Come on, they probably don’t want to waste arrows at this distance either.”

We reached the village upstream. The relief troops waiting there welcomed us.

“We can talk once everything is over. For now, we need to break through the English defensive line.”

We joined forces and made our way toward Orléans.

“We’re almost there! Those lazy bastards only know how to lie around and shoot arrows… They can’t keep up with the grit of Frenchmen!”

Something bothered me.

Judging by how they’re deploying their troops, they clearly have forces to spare, yet they’re letting us through this easily? …There might be another reason they aren’t actively trying to stop us.

My suspicions were correct.

In fact, the English had no intention of pursuing us.

***

The enemy commander, William de la Pole, had his own thoughts.

Those idiots must be desperate to starve to death together!

From the beginning, William had known that launching a full-scale assault would inevitably result in massive casualties. Instead, his plan was to bombard the city relentlessly and maintain a thorough blockade until the enemy starved to death.

Orléans was surrounded by numerous English fortifications. On top of that, their successful resupply after the Battle of the Herrings had left them with plenty to spare.

Those men weren’t reinforcements. The moment that many additional troops entered Orléans, there would simply be more mouths to feed, accelerating the starvation inside the city.

You foolish Frenchmen. You’ve created your own hell!