Pierrelot tried to coax her to eat.

‘Hush you,’ said Zabillet. ‘You should know it is no use trying to persuade Jeannette when she has made up her mind.’

Later her father took her on one side and whispered to her that there was a matter of some concern to Domrémy and he wished to speak to her about it.

She listened attentively while he went on: ‘We are as poor as ever, and you know what that means. We are finding it hard to meet the new demands from the treasury. The villagers have begged me to have a word with you to ask if you could persuade the King to give us exemption from the new tax. You are his friend they say. You have given him his crown. Will he give your native village this concession if you ask for it?’

‘I know he will,’ said Jeannette. ‘Rest assured I shall ask him.’

Jacques looked greatly relieved. He had made this journey chiefly to make this request. He wanted to see Jeannette in her glory, of course, but he was still a little suspicious of it. Her strangeness had worried him a great deal and that she, his humble daughter, should have been selected for such a task still seemed like some sort of necromancy. He had heard it whispered in some quarters that she was a witch. That would be the final degradation. But to see her, so radiant, so self-effacing, so beloved of the people and respected by great men such as the Bastard of Orléans and the King himself, lulled his fear though not entirely.

He was greatly relieved when the King decreed that Domrémy and Greux should be exempt from all tallies, aids, subsidies and subventions. He said also that the family’s expenses should be paid and that they should be provided with horses to take them back to Domrémy.

When they said good-bye, Zabillet clung to her daughter.

‘Jeannette,’ she murmured, ‘why do you not come back with us? You have done your work. This is what you set out to do, was it not? You saved Orléans for the French and had the King crowned at Rheims. What else is there for you, Jeannette?’

‘I shall not be happy, dear mother, until there is not a single Godon left in France.’

‘Jeannette, God has guarded you so far. Come home now.’

Jeannette shook her head.

‘God rest you, dear mother. Go and live in peace. I shall know what I must do when the time comes.’

Zabillet sighed. As she said earlier to Pierrelot, it was no use trying to persuade Jeannette.

Chapter XIV

DISASTER AT COMPIÈGNE

LATER, in her darkest moments she believed that she should have gone. That was the moment … the time of glory. She had accomplished her mission. She had obeyed the commands of Heaven. She had been the instrument through which God had imposed His Will.

Why did she stay? Was she a little intoxicated by glory? Had she come to believe herself not merely that instrument but the possessor of divine powers? She had seen a miracle come from her work; she had heard the acclamation of the crowds. In Rheims at the time of the coronation the poor had come to kneel at her feet. They asked only to touch her hands, to touch the hem of her garment. Great men had bowed to her, listened to her, followed her wishes, showed their respect for her. The Bastard of Orléans, the Duc d’Alençon, the Sire de Gamaches, the King himself – had all treated her with something like reverence. Had the sin of pride come very close to her? She had stressed her humility, her origins, her lack of education … But even in that was there a touch of pride?

How could she tell? It was easy to look back afterwards and say: I should have done this. I should not have done that. If … If …

She believed now that she had a further mission. She would not rest until every Englishman had been driven from the shores of France. Perhaps having accomplished one seemingly impossible mission she must have another.

‘Come back with us to Domrémy,’ her mother had said. ‘You have done what God commanded.’

Should she have listened? It was easy to say ‘Yes’ … looking back.

There were many who loved her; but there were others who hated her. Rich, powerful people there were who wanted to destroy her. The King was her friend … but what was the friendship of kings ever worth, and Charles the Seventh had never shown himself as a steadfast character. There was the wily Duke of Burgundy, who was the ally of the English while not averse to a little flirtation with the French and ready to jump whichever way was best for Burgundy. He hated the King because he had instigated the murder of John the Fearless, the last Duke, and that was something which the present Duke Philip could never forget.

And did she think the great Duke of Bedford would stand quietly by and see his armies defeated by a peasant girl from Domrémy?

There were enemies closer to her. There was Georges de la Trémoïlle – as treacherous a man as ever lived. His father had been attached to the Duke of Burgundy and Georges had been brought up at that Court with Duke Philip. It was not unlikely that Georges would still retain a certain liaison with his boyhood companion; and the Duke would deem it beneficial to have a man who must feel some friendship for him living so close to his enemy the King.

Georges de la Trémoïlle was unscrupulous in the extreme – a man who would not hesitate to murder. His treatment of his first wife had created a scandal at one time. He had married her, taken all she possessed and then driven her from his house. She had died as the result of the condition into which he had forced her. His reason for getting rid of her was that he had his eyes on another woman who was both comely and extremely wealthy and he thought it would be not only pleasant to marry her but profitable also.

It had not been a difficult matter for Trémoïlle, favourite as he was with the King, to arrange for the murder of the lady’s husband and marry her himself.

Such a man would have no scruples and little difficulty in removing Jeannette, once her great popularity had died down. It would be dangerous, of course, to do it at the time when she was regarded almost as a saint throughout the country and had many friends in high places.

But Trémoïlle had always been a man who knew how to wait.

Regnault de Chartres, the Chancellor, could easily be handled by him. Regnault, Bishop of Rheims, was a man of ambition and he sought to satisfy that, as so many had before him, through the Church. He hated Jeannette. If God had wanted to guide the King to Rheims, why should He have chosen a simple country girl to do it when the Bishop of Rheims was standing by?

He wanted to get rid of Jeannette but like Trémoïlle he realised that they must wait until the tumult was over.

He and Trémoïlle were aware that the two most important men in the country were Burgundy and Bedford; Bedford was going to find some means of staining Jeannette’s image. He had to. It was the belief in her supernatural gifts which had defeated his army. It was not force of arms which had raised the siege of Orléans. It was fear of the powers of light or of darkness – it mattered not which, they were both equally effective for striking fear into men.

Moreover Burgundy was not going to stand by and see Charles victorious. As soon as he was free of his present commitments he would spring into action.

As for King Charles, they had little respect for him. They would know how to handle him when the time came.

Jeannette was now planning to march on Paris. She knew that until the capital was in French hands there could be no true victory. The girl had learned her military tactics well, they had to admit. She wanted to march on Paris and take it for the King while both Trémoïlle and Regnault saw that if she succeeded in this it would be impossible to destroy Jeannette. What they wanted was to gain Paris through negotiations – their negotiations – and they believed this should be done through an alliance with Burgundy.

Charles hated bloodshed and it should not be difficult to make him listen.

Jeannette knew very well that the Duke of Burgundy was the enemy of the King of France. He would always regard him as his father’s murderer and if anyone reminded him that Louis of Orléans had been murdered at the instigation of a Duke of Burgundy that made no difference.

Thus Jeannette had powerful people working against her. Moreover her voices rarely came to her now. When she was involved in a skirmish, sometimes she was successful, at other times not. She was filled with a burning desire to drive the Godons from France, but secretly she was beginning to wonder whether God no longer desired her services.

With the people she was still Jeannette, the wonder girl from Domrémy who had achieved miracles. It would take a little time for such a reputation to be destroyed, but many had short memories. Already it seemed the King did not listen to her with the same respect. His advisers Trémoïlle and Regnault had his ear; and she did not like what was going on. Sometimes she was very depressed; she longed to hear her voices and they did not come. She followed the King from Château-Thierry to Senlis, from Blois to Compiègne. She was obsessed by her devotion to him and to France. But she missed the divine inspiration. She had become a good commander; but so were Dunois, Alençon and a score of others; and they had not been able to save Orléans.

The Duke of Bedford had brought five hundred of his dreaded archers to Paris. One division of his army there carried a standard on which was embossed a distaff and a spindle. ‘Now, fair one, come!’ was its inscription. Jeannette was eager to attack Paris and she still had influential supporters. One was the Duc d’Alençon who had complete faith in her. However the attack failed.