Mysterious Destiny Bright Lights and Thunder Part I

by D. J. Holmes

  ***

  “Thank goodness for that wind,” Pierre expresses, “the smoke has been blowing in our direction for miles making it hard to see. Finally, we can ride a little faster.”

  On the outskirts of Rouen looking up to the ridge of trees which overlooks the Market Square, Jacquemin asks, “Aren’t those French soldiers up there?”

  Looking up in the direction of the ridge, Jean says, “I think that they are. Why are they all kneeling down?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go and find out.”

  Riding up close to the ridge, Jacquemin, Pierre, Jean and all the soldiers that have come with them dismount and walk quietly, out of respect for the sacredness of the moment.

  Whispering between each other, Jacquemin asks, “Do you think that father is in this group of soldiers?”

  Looking around, Pierre finally points, “Yes, over there. I think that’s him.”

  “I think that you are right, Pierre,” Jean begins walking in his direction with Pierre and Jacquemin following him.

  Walking up behind him, Jean kneels and taps Jacque on the shoulder. “Father….”

  Jacque hears nothing as his body trembles in sobs.

  Jean looks back at his brothers as they all suddenly realize that everyone is crying, French soldiers completely overcome with grief.

  Finding room they kneel by their father, with quiet respectfulness, still not understanding the full impact of what has happened to their family.

  Jacque begins to quiet down as he feels someone familiar near him. Opening his eyes and looking to each side, “Jean…Pierre,” and turning to look behind “Jacquemin. Oh, my sons. If I ever needed you at any time in my life, this would be the moment.” Putting his arms around all of them he continues to cry.

  “What’s the matter, Father? What happened here?” Jean asks.

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “No, Father. We haven’t heard anything. We just arrived and found everyone kneeling on the ridge.”

  “My sons, the English have done their cruelest injustice to one of France’s most saintly daughters.”

  Afraid to ask, but wanting to know, Pierre finally speaks, “What are you saying, Father?”

  Jacque’s mouth begins to tremble as he slowly articulates, “They burned Jehanne at the stake.”

  Pierre immediately cradles his head in his hands, “I knew it! I could feel that something was happening.”

  Jean stares at his father in disbelief.

  Hearing what his father has just said, Jacquemin slowly looks around at the soldiers still on their knees, remembering the smoke that blew on him as he rode with his brothers and the other soldiers to Rouen.

  Standing next to Jacque and his sons, Charles Martel hears what has just been said. He quietly tells one of his soldiers and asks him to pass it on.

  Throughout their ride to free Jehanne, their hopes had been so high. With Jehanne by their side, they would rid France of every English soldier that crossed their border.

  Finally, Jacquemin, Jean and Pierre find the courage to look into the Market Square. Overwhelmed with their own grief, they now understand what everyone on the ridge is experiencing: The loss of their sister; the loss of a great French commander; the loss of a true French patriot; the loss of a truly great person who respected all people.

  Memories come to their minds of Jehanne as a small child kicking rocks out of her way on the path as she walks with their mother to put flowers in the chapel. They remembered her expertise as she bandaged their father’s soldiers after a battle, by the side of her mother. Her enchanting laugh echoed in their minds as they remembered playing the war board game by the light of the evening fire, as its light reflected on her beautiful soft face.

  Now, all they could see was smoldering wood. Devastated and filled with grief as they kneel by Jacque’s side, they continue to watch the burning embers consume what is left of the stake Jehanne’s body is chained to; all representing English justice.

  A light had gone out. There was an empty, non-descript feeling in the air. In all the years that the war had been fought, there had never been a commander who gave selflessly for the welfare of all people, like she did. No one had inspired patriotism in her soldiers, like she did. No one believed in France like she did. And because of this, the English had burnt her as a warning to all who would not play the game as they intended it to be played.

  Who would have the courage to go against the English now? How would France regain the freedom that so many of its people had fought and died for centuries earlier? Why did people who lived in France centuries earlier have more courage? Why did they understand the meaning of freedom better then the French did now? Were the French that lived now beaten down? Or had they lost their will to live in freedom? Was it much easier to have someone rule you, rather than to rule yourself?

  And why had it been Jehanne’s mission, a nineteen year old, to lead her country and show that it could be done, for God whispers the ideas of freedom into the hearts of all the oppressed.

  It became Jehanne’s mission because she heard and acted on the words of God. She accepted that mission. She was willing to be a servant, not to the English, but only to God; listening only to His voice, through her angels. Now that she is gone, thoughts of freedom seem to once again permeate the air and echo as a whisper in the hearts of all the French. On the ridge, the French soldiers begin to experience this feeling.

  “We waited too long,” one soldier says as he looks up at the rest of the soldiers.

  “We were afraid to go on our own,” another says, looking to the ground.

  “Jehanne never had any fear when she led us into battle. But without her, we were afraid,” a soldier cries.

  Jacquemin looks at his father. “We tried to get to her to save her.”

  Jacque answers, “I tried to get here to save her also.” His right hand sweeps the area pointing to his soldiers. “All of these men were willing to put their lives in danger to save her, as she had done so many times for France. What we need to do now is to continue what she started. She showed us courage and determination; that is the only way that we can gain and keep our freedom.”

  Pierre adds, “Yes, Father. You and Mother have always taught us that. What we need to do is to go to all the French and teach them that they must have faith. Not a faith of acceptance or of waiting and watching, but a faith of action; action to do what needs to be done to keep our God given freedom.”

  “And they have to be reminded that fear is natural,” Jean states.

  Adding from his own experiences, Jacquemin says, “All heroes feel fear. For fear is a weapon the enemy creates, trying to mask their own feelings. We have to remind all the French to pray and to ask for strength to fight their own battles, not to pray for someone else to save them, for true heroes continue to step forward to protect their own freedom and the freedom of those that depend upon them.”

  Finally standing up and facing all of his soldiers, Jacque begins to speak, “Let us go to Compiegne. That city is still under siege. If they fall, everyone will be killed because they are standing up to the English and their allies. It is time to dry our tears and be men of action. In memory of Jehanne, who will ride with me?”

  Hearing his words, the soldiers don’t raise their voices, or their swords, but walk with great determination to their horses, wiping the tears from their eyes; they mount impatient to ride. Looking at his sons, he says proudly, “I think that we have an army. We had better get on our horses and lead out, or we will be left in their dust!”

  They all ride in great haste to Compiegne, knowing that every minute counts. Arriving at the rear gate through the forest, Jacque announces, “I am Jacque d’Arc, father of Jehanne d’Arc. These soldiers and I have come in memory of Jehanne to help you fight the English.”

  The guards yell, “OPEN THE GATES!”