Joan of Arc

         My voices have told me so. After all the things that have happened to me in the past few years, things I know to be unachieveable to most girls at seventeen, I still remember these words. They told me to capture France back from the English. I have led battles resulting in the loss of many an English soldier's life. Hundreds, if not thousands of women left sobbing at home, with naught but the black plague to feed their hungry, screaming, helpless children. All this I have wept for, but rode on with confidence, for the confirmations of my voices were like a beacon of hope in the darkness of war. Like a thousand more armies behind me, comforting me, willing me to fight, to end it. Willing me to save France at last. "You are the savior."
          But all that is lost now, my voices, my beacon of hope. The very banner I rode by is now in trial by the English, who think us to be in league with the devil. My voices have forgotten me. They once told me I was powerful. They commanded me to go to the prince, who asked question after question of me to make sure I was of pure heart. I had my voices then, so he believed me. He made me commander and chief of his army. I carried his royal banner by my side. I freed city after city, giving the hope of my voices to the people who bravely fought for their country. I became wounded in the battle as cannons crashed and arrows pierced. "Be not afraid."
          Finally I managed to persuade the cowardly prince to be crowned in Rheims. I waved my banner over his head in this moment of victory. I believed in the new king, and I believed in myself. My voices told me it was over. "You must return." I begged Charles to let me return home to my village, but he refused my every request. "Treachery awaits," these are the last words I have to survive on. As much as I begged the king to attack and recapture Paris, he insisted on staying in the sanctuary of Rheims, not wanting to end his joy. I warned him that if he did not take Paris then, it would be seven years before this treacherous fighting was over. With cold eyes, blinded from all save the golden embroidered velvet crown he wore so proudly on his head,king Charles remained in his palace, extending a peace treaty with the English, and allowing me only one thing. He gave me permission to save the city of Compiegne from the Duke of Burgundy.
          With my soldiers behind me, I rode to the gate to defend the city. Seeing the oncoming troops, however, I ordered my army to retreat behind the walls of the city. But when I pounded on the door of the gate, the mayor would not grant us admission. Tired and starving, one by one, my soldiers and friends were engulfed in the attacking army and thudded heavily on the ground, leaving me with nothing. Betrayal. I had been betrayed by my king, by my country. Even my voices had nothing to say. Cold and defeated I stood as the Duke bound me and took me away. There were weeks when I was imprisoned with no offering of money from my selfish lord.
          After a while I was boughed for questioning, but not by my people, by the English. They have taken me to this cell where I now reside in silence, waiting for my fate to be decreed. There is no sign of my visions, of my late childhood, where Michael came to me so long ago as I peacefully paced the fields with my sheep. Here there is nothing but four walls and the iron around my wrists. The judges who thow these questions at me, inwardly pleading for some sign of Satan.
          "Witch girl, come out of your daze, you must be taken to the court room." The man grabbed me from my position against the wall and marched me forcefully down the hall. Then were the questions, and the trial. I stood as the judge asked about my banner. "Why do you carry this thing with the sign of the royalty of your country? Are you not but a peasant girl, and is it not evil for you to degrade your king?"
          The king wished it of me to carry this banner, for that is what my voices have told me to do." The questions continued like this for hours.I feel I must give up soon for I have no confirmations from my voices. As darkness grew the judge gave me one final word.
         "You are an evil child, if you do not confess to this we shall have you burned at the stake. If you do confess, however, you will remain in your cell, and we will not harm you or question you any longer."
         Completely discouraged, I looked him in the eye. After weeks of this trial I had never done that. "Then I am wicked," I stated, cowardly. "I am a wicked witch, sent by the devil. I will not be burned." I could see the look of relief in everyones eyes. I was taken back up to my cell. For hours I waited, thinking of how the rest of my life would be. I heard a voice behind me. "Joan," he said.
         I had not been addressed by my own name in so long, I spun around. There, after months without him, stood Michael.
         "Oh!" I cried, droppping to my knees, "I am so sorry! how could i have forgotten?"
         "You are not of the devil, Joan, all that you have done is of me. You can not let them control you so. You must recant."
         Sobbing madly, I flung myself back into the service of God. The moment the guards came in the next morning, I recanted. "I am not of the devil," I nearly screamed at them. "I am sent by God!"
         "You wicked child," said a furious guard. Grabbing me by the back of my iron chains, he practically dragged me to the town square. Everyone gathered there. In the middle of the square was a pile of wood. On top of it was the stake, where they tied me tightly.
         "Please, bring me a cross!" I begged.
         The man gave me a disgusted look, and spat in my face, but still, an English soldier in the crowd heard my call. Tying two pieces of wood together, he climbed the stips and placed the cross in my shivering hands. The fire was lit, and the flames climbed higher and higher. As they reached my legs, I clutched my cross hard. The searing pain was pressing and I needed it more than ever. As they reached my stomach I screamed, "Jesus! Michael!"
         I heard shouting around me. The pain was stopping, the voices were fading, I see a distant light.