“I suppose it is hard to dispel a legend of this sort which has risen up.”

“You are referring to the woman who dresses up in men’s clothes?”

“I did mean the one whom they call The Maid.”

“A momentary wonder. An exaggeration.”

“It seems to have put heart into the French and taken something from the English.”

“Whatever has been taken will be put back.”

I was not sure how much importance he attached to Joan of Arc, but I believed he was deceiving himself into thinking that she could have no effect on the war.

I soon discovered that he was by no means unconcerned about her, for as we marched through those villages, the change in the mood of the people was decidedly noticeable—and it seemed that a kind of despairing depression had fallen on our men.

Owen, who always rode in my party but never beside me, for we had warned ourselves most severely about the dangers of betraying our relationship and to be continually on the watch lest we betray it, made a discovery. He wanted to tell me, but as no opportunity presented itself, he gave the news to Joanna Courcy, asking her to tell me.

“They have captured The Maid,” she said.

“The English?”

“No…not the English. The Burgundians, who were laying siege to Compiègne. Joan was on the march with three or four hundred men on her way to Crépy when she heard that John of Luxembourg, an ally of the Duke of Burgundy, had started to besiege the town. She went to the rescue of the besieged. Some people think there was treachery. There was a good deal of envy, and some of those who should have been her staunchest supporters, being so jealous of her sought to trap her. Many of them got away in boats when the battle was going against them, and Joan with a few others assisted them in their retreat. There is a strong suspicion that her own soldiers may have betrayed her. In any case, the gates of the city were shut before she could get out. She is in the hands of John of Luxembourg and he has taken her to his castle of Beaulieu.”

“I suppose that is the same as being in the hands of the English?”

“Not quite. He will probably ask a ransom for her. He’s Burgundy’s man…and the relationship between Burgundy and the English is at the moment a little strained.”

“Poor girl. I wonder what will happen to her now.”

Joanna shook her head. “It will be the end of her glory, I am sure.”

The Cardinal was clearly overjoyed, so I knew that his indifference to The Maid had been assumed.

I wondered what I should find when I joined my brother-in-law, Bedford, at Rouen.

Such was the state of affairs in France at this time that our journey to Rouen had to proceed with the utmost care. The fact that the King was one of our party meant that no risks must be taken. I thought of my little ones in England. They would be safe, Joanna was constantly assuring me. Guillemote would defend them with her life.

There were rumors about The Maid. She had escaped, said one. She had been recaptured, said another. Then…there had been no escape. She was still the prisoner of the Count of Luxembourg. She would be sold for a large sum of money, that was certain. And who would be ready to pay that large sum of money to get her into their hands? The English! And what would her fate be when she was their prisoner—she, who had been responsible for turning the tide of war against the English? However much they denigrated her, however much they pretended to ridicule her, they must realize the truth of this.

I must admit that my thoughts were mainly occupied with the desire to get back to my children. Moreover, I could not see a great deal of Owen. He had stressed to me the necessity to be careful. But at least there was the comfort of knowing that he was there.

So cautiously we processed on this slow and tedious journey, and although we had landed at Calais in April it was not until July that we arrived in Rouen.

Bedford was there, anxiously awaiting our arrival. He had changed a good deal. He looked careworn and much older. The events of the last year had naturally had their effect on him.

His great concern was for the King, but he greeted me with the kindliness which he had always extended toward me. He was the sort of man who would never forget his brother’s injunctions to look after me, and would carry out his promise to do so to the very best of his abilities. How differently I felt toward him than I did toward his brother Gloucester.

I was delighted to find that his wife was with him. Because of our relationship, Anne of Burgundy and I had seen each other now and then during our childhood, and we had always liked each other. It would have been difficult not to like Anne. She had grown very beautiful, with a beauty which comes from an inner goodness rather than from features.

I was able to talk to her more freely than to other members of the party—except, of course, Joanna Courcy.

She told me how anxious her husband was.

“The situation here,” she said, “is worse than is generally admitted. It is incredible what this Maid has done. She has even aroused Charles from his lethargy sufficiently to get him to agree to a coronation.”

“Poor Charles!” I said. “He never really wanted a crown.”

“Nor did his brother Jean. How strange that so many fight to attain a crown and that those to whom it comes by inheritance would rather someone else had it.”

“Well, there are always many to fight for it. What a strange position we are in!”

“And you and I, Katherine, now owe our allegiance to a new country…and one which was the enemy of our native land. What a mess it all is! I think that, if there had never been this quarrel between Burgundy and Orléans or Armagnacs, everything would have been different.”

“But my husband was determined to take France.”

“And my husband is determined to follow his brother’s wishes.”

“And we are caught up in it. Your case is different from mine, Anne. I was married to Henry as part of a treaty. You married his brother because you loved him.”

“Yes. I was one of the lucky ones. But you loved Henry. John says that Henry was above all other men. It was such a tragedy. John has never got over it. He worshiped his brother.”

“Henry was the sort of man people worshiped.”

She put her hand over mine and pressed it firmly.

I felt an urge to tell her. Do not be sorry for me, I wanted to say, for I have found a greater happiness than I ever had with Henry. If I could be left in peace with my family, there is nothing else I would ask.

I restrained myself. Anne was a good woman; she would be sympathetic, but her first allegiance would be to Bedford, and if she thought I had broken the law—which many might say I had—she would feel it her duty to tell her husband.

And sitting with Anne, I did realize fully that, however unimportant I had been made to feel, I yet remained the Queen, and it could be that the children I had by a second marriage might have some claim to the throne. Henry was the natural heir, of course, but Edmund and Jasper…oh no, the circumstances would have to be very extraordinary for anyone to think for a moment that they could be in line for the throne. But something of that kind must have been behind Gloucester’s reasoning when he had forced that statute through Parliament. Perhaps there was something in his scheming beyond spite. No…no…the idea was too remote.

I said: “Henry and your husband were such great friends. It was wonderful to see the brotherly love between them.”

“I felt they always wanted to protect each other…and themselves, of course. Their father’s hold on the throne was not very secure, and that made them alert for danger. It drew them together as a family.”

“The Duke of Gloucester does not appear to have the same family feeling.”

“There are some who will always work for themselves and see everything as it affects them personally.”

“And Gloucester is one of those.”

There was a pause and at length she said: “He has caused John a great deal of anxiety. I have worried a great deal. My brother is very angry with Gloucester. It affects his relationship with my husband, for my brother is, I believe, the most powerful man in France.”

“I know. There was the proposed duel.”

“Which, fortunately, did not take place.”

“I believe no one intended that it should.”

“No. But the trouble is still there, and Gloucester has caused it. I could not bear to see the friendship between my husband and brother broken.”

I nodded in agreement and she went on: “And now there is The Maid.”

“She is in the hands of Luxembourg.”

“Yes…and I believe he will sell her to the highest bidder.”

“Poor girl!”

“She has wrought great havoc.”

“To the English,” I replied. “To the French she has brought hope.”

Anne looked a little surprised. I could see that she regarded England as her country now. How lucky Bedford was! I felt a pang of envy. I understood completely their love for each other. Was I not blessed with similar devotion? But they did not have to hide their happiness behind a cloak of deception.

“I am so glad that I found you here,” I said.

“I am with John whenever possible,” she replied. “We hate to be separated.”

“Have you any idea how long it will be before Henry is crowned?” I asked.

“John wants it to be soon. He always wanted it to take place in Rheims. It should. That will mean a great deal.”

“Then why do we not go to Rheims? Why do we stay here in Rouen?”

“I will tell you why. Because there is so much disruption in the country. It is not safe to attempt the journey. The King must not be taken into danger.”