by D. J. Holmes
“Jacque, come over to the window. I want to show you something.” Isabelle requests. Walking over to his wife, he looks in the direction that she is pointing. “Look at Jehanne, Jacque. Can you believe that she is sixteen years old?”
“No, I can’t, time has gone so quickly. She has grown into a beautiful woman, just like her mother,” he says putting his arm around Isabelle’s waist and pulling her close to his side.
“Yes, she is rather beautiful, isn’t she,” Isabelle smiles. “And she is as tall as I am.”
“You call that tall?” Jacque quips.
“It’s a nice size for a woman, Jacque.”
“You are perfect for me, Isabelle.”
“Some of the young men must be thinking the same thing about Jehanne, because they are always looking at her when we walk through the village.”
“Well, they had better stay away from her until she is a lot older.”
“I don’t think that we have to worry about that, Jacque. She’s not even noticing that they are looking at her. It’s as though she knows her purpose, and she isn’t going to be swayed from the path that she has promised God she would travel.”
“From the day she was born, it seems that she has been directed in what she was supposed to do. How many other girls would give up their bed to a complete stranger, to make sure the stranger would be warm and get a goodnight’s sleep….”
“…Not very many. And I have always loved taking flowers with her to the church and praying for everyone that we know. I haven’t heard of any other mother and daughter doing that either. Her heart is focused on God and his purpose for this world.”
“We have had very good children, Isabelle….” Sensing his ears trying to make something of the sounds coming their way, Jacque finally says, “I can hear horses….”
Walking over to the door, he states, “My captains have finally come to talk over strategies. The English are testing us with false attacks, so they can see what we will do in any given situation. This helps them prepare for future attacks. We know that they will attack soon… I wish we could talk a lot longer, my sweet, but I had better go to the strategy tent.”
“I understand. I’ll send Jehanne with your lunch.”
“I will see you later,” he waves his hand as he walks to where his captains are waiting for him.
Walking into the cottage from the Hen House, Jehanne greets her parents, “Mother, Father here are some fresh eggs.”
“Thank you, Jehanne…your father left to be with his Captains. We were watching you feed the chickens earlier, and we both noticed how beautiful you have become.”
“Many people tell me that I look like you Mother, except for the color of my hair,” she says with a huge engaging smile.
“I’m flattered, Jehanne. Life has been kind to me, particularly with having a daughter like you.”
“Thank you, Mother. I am honored to be your daughter. After I have finished my chores, I will come back in and help you.”
“Until then,” Isabelle says to her daughter.
Finally with the sun high in the sky, the morning chores are done, Jehanne comes into the cottage. “Is there anything that I can help you with, Mother?”
“Yes, would you take your father and his men their lunch?”
“Where is he, Mother?”
“He’s in the strategy tent.”
Taking the lunch, and running toward the tent, Jehanne quietly enters.
“Here is your lunch, Father.”
“Ah… My beautiful daughter, come over here and tell me what you would do,” her father says as she steps up beside him. Using his index finger, he points saying, “The English are over here, and our village soldiers are here.”
As Jehanne’s Father and his fellow Captains watch her, she walks slowly around the strategy table, carefully surveying the mountains, lakes, and rolling hills. She looks from angle to angle. Then, with the concentration of a great general, she says, “Here is the English weakness, Father. Put a few men on top of this hill, in plain sight. I would make the English think that you know nothing about fighting strategy. As the English approach, have your men run down this side,” sliding her finger down the mountain side and toward the back of the hill. “As the English continue to approach, they will come through the narrow passage and around here to the back. It is here that they think they will fight a few scared French men. This is where you will have half of your forces. The other half will come up behind the English, through this same narrow passage way, making it impossible for the English to retreat. They will be trapped in-between two French forces. The surprise will be complete!”
“For a girl you know quite a bit about war,” her father commented with pride.
“Jehanne……..Jehanne,” her mother calls.
“I’ve got to go, Father.”
As Jehanne takes leave of her Father, his men start to make comments about her knowledge of war tactics.
“Jacque, do you think that it is wise to have your daughter know so much about war?” they ask.
“What is wrong with a woman knowing the tactics of war? They are the ones that give birth to the men that fight. If they know the tactics of war, they can help train our sons. They will also be able to defend themselves when we have to leave the village.”
“Jacque, women are not supposed to fight. They are supposed to stay home, tend the sheep, sew, cook and create blankets on the loom.”
“And what are they supposed to do when we are off fighting the English? Who is supposed to protect them? Don’t you think that it would be a good thing if they knew how to protect themselves, in case we are not around when they need us?”
“Listen, all I can say is that the women are supposed to stay home, clean; make us happy and have children.”
“And who is the person that decided that?” Jacque asks as he looks very stern and directly at his men.
“It has always been that way! It’s what makes a society work, everyone, has their own job and does it! All I can say is that if you allow your daughter to talk this way, we will tell the whole village, and they will come against your whole family.”
Jacque looks at them…takes a breath…pushes his lips together, but decides not to say anything.
“We’ll go and tell everyone to prepare and meet at the base of the hill. Will you be there, Jacque?” he is asked as they leave the tent.
“I’ll be there.” His anger gets the best of him, and he throws a part of the war strategy table to the ground. “Those closed minded saps. Who are they to tell me what I can teach my daughter!”
