Within the confines of the village hall and some of the surrounding buildings, the wounded were dragged in to safety while the town defenders withdrew to take a brief rest from the fierce combat that had taken place at the northern limits of Donremy. After finding a cot to lay Jacques down on, Henri and his companions tiredly removed their helmets and caught their breaths while a town doctor came over to see him. The main hall was getting flooded with the tired and injured causing some distress to the local families who had taken refuge there.

Women and children went to see their husbands and fathers who had helped fight off the first attack while the royal soldiers stood off and regrouped with their own comrades. As Angie passed a water flask and shared with her two friends, she looked up to see Captain Beaumont of the royal army walk in to assess the situation. He looked tired and haggard while he tried to wipe some of the blood and dirt off his own steel cuirass. He nodded toward the mercenaries and spoke, "I heard Jacques d'Arc was hurt in the fighting. Is he going to be all right?"

Roger glanced over to where Joan and the rest of her family had gathered around in concern while the doctor did his best to treat the wounded man. "He's still alive. That's a blessing in and of itself."

Beaumont ran a hand over his dark mustache, "Well we could use more blessings right now. We have a handful of dead and at least a score of men wounded."

That meant that despite the success at the wall it had been costly. The effective fighting strength of the town defenders had been diminished by half and it was looking like a second attack was coming once the enemy mercenaries regrouped themselves.

"These people don't know how bad things look right now, do they?" Angie mused quietly, "Do we tell them the truth? That we may have to make a last stand here?"

Henri looked over again to where Jacques lay in his makeshift cot, struggling through the pain of having the crossbow bolt removed and his wound staunched. He looked a little pale from having lost a lot of blood and it was hard to think there was still some glimmer of hope.

Jacques wife rose from her husband's side and came over to the mercenaries wearing a distraught look, "You! Mercenaries! This is your fault! How could let this happen?"

Henri balked as she feebly began to pull at his cloak, "You were supposed to help protect this place and my husband! Joan saw you ride off from the walls and now you come back?"

"Mother, they there helping fight off another band of enemies coming from the east," Joan explained as she came over to that corner of the hall, "Father just told me what happened. Please don't be angry."

Joan's mother paused and gave a tired look to the soldiers, "Is this true?"

Captain Beaumont nodded, "Yes Ma'am. We were under attack from two sides. These mercenaries stopped the other force and came back to help protect us at the wall."

"But we didn't make it back fast enough," Henri grimaced looking toward Joan, "I'm very sorry your father got hurt."

Joan simply nodded and came back to her father's side as he lay drinking some water offered by Pierre.

He turned and looked to his daughter, trying to put on an encouraging smile while taking her hand, "Joan… I'm glad you're here. I promise everything is going to be okay now."

"I'm not sure I believe you father," she said in concern, "You're not well and the other soldiers here still look troubled. There's still danger, isn't there?"

"Joan," her father sighed, "This is not something you need to concern yourself with right now."

"No. You're wrong, father. This does concern me," Joan argued as she balled her fists while she sat, "I've seen enough here today and I want to help. There are many good people here risking their lives to help our town and I want to help too."

"Joan, you are not going out there," Jacques protested and gestured to his bloodied side, "Look here. This is why you should not get involved the war."

"It's exactly why I should get involved," she retorted, "I refuse to watch as you and other people I care about get hurt out there. I'm tired of watching our people suffer at the hands of the English and I'm tired of living in fear. I say we need to stand up together… all of us here... today."

The three mercenaries stood silently while listening and feeling the young woman's words galvanize their own will to fight on. It was hard to tell if there was something unnatural about her or maybe even divine, but she spoke with such surprising conviction that it was hard not to listen and feel moved.

"Be serious now Joan," Jacques replied, "Even if what you said about God and his angels are true, then think… how could a young woman who barely knows how to swing a sword possibly go about saving all of France?"

"Maybe I just need to start by saving my own family and my own village," she said with determination as she rose to her feet and picked up her father's sheathed short sword. She tied it to the waist of her skirt and tried not to let on how awkward it felt to her before she headed for the door.

Her mother and brother came over to try and stop her but she gently tried to move them aside. Her mother pleaded, "Joan! No! You can't go!"

"You know I have to," Joan said prying her mother off, "If we are going to save our town and defeat the English, we have to believe that we can do it."

Jacques called out to his daughter before sinking back into his cot with exhaustion as the rest of his family came over to help him. Joan gave an apologetic look before turning to head out the door, "I'm sorry father… I promise I'll come back soon."

The young woman pushed through the crowd of townspeople and soldiers who mobbed the front of the village hall followed by Henri and the other mercenaries. Once outside, Joan looked to the skies and saw that the rain had begun to give way and the gray skies had turned a little brighter as the midday bells tolled from the local church.

She picked up a discarded spear as well as a blue pennon with the royal fleur de lis on it. She tied the pennon to the end of the polearm before stepping up atop a few supply crates and barrels. She took a deep breath and gave the crude makeshift battle standard a wave as she spoke in a loud voice to address the weary and dejected soldiers and townsfolk who were present. "People of Donremy! Soldiers of France! Hear me! Do not give in to despair! Now is the time for us to come together to protect this town from our English tormentors!"

"Girl, you must be mad!" one of the villagers called out in challenge, "The English are preparing to attack again and when they do, they'll kill us all!"

"He's right Joan!" another townswoman called, "The king's soldiers can't even protect us from the English. You really expect we can stand against their warriors?"

"I say the English are not invincible!" Joan called back trying desperately to keep her voice loud and sure while she had the peoples' attention, "We've won battles against them before and I say we can do it again, right here! I only ask that you have faith in my words and in God that He has ordained our victory today!"

Roger and Angie exchanged an awed look with each other after listening to Joan speak, "Wow... is she for real?"

The crowd began to murmur and stir as Joan stepped back down to address the people at their level. When she did, she was immediately surrounded by several royal soldiers who had seemed to take some insult from her presence. As the trio came closer they saw Joan standing her ground while she was encircled by the grizzled royal soldiers. They all began laughing with derision as one of the sergeants of the royal soldiers started to mock her, "Come on now. Surely you're joking. This is not a game little girl. You honestly think you can just step up and act like some general? That you can actually make a difference standing on the frontline?"

"This is my village and I will fight for it," she answered as she gripped the pennon in her hand and gave a determined look. This only caused the soldiers to erupt into another gale of scornful laughter.

The sergeant grabbed the spear from her hand and turned up his nose, "The very idea... women don't belong on a battlefield. She should stay quiet and remain at home with their needlework."

Joan narrowed her eyes and spoke with a defiant but level voice, "I don't have to be a man in order to want to protect my village."

I think you should go and let the real men do the fighting here darling," the soldier scoffed but he was suddenly silenced as Henri and his companions pushed their way into the circle. Roger and Angie glared at some of the men who were present to get them to back off while Henri strode forward and pulled the spear away from the mocking soldier.

He gave a man a slight shove in the chest to get him away from Joan while wearing a protective scowl, "And I think you should leave the girl alone. If you're so sure of that, then go prove that you're as tough as you say you are."

"I'm not going to take any lip from some farm girl and a bunch of mangy sell swords," the grizzled sergeant growled toward Henri before turning away and walking off with a few of his comrades. As the small crowd continued to buzz, Joan gave a grateful look to her mercenary friends and graced them all with a quiet smile, "Everyone... thank you."

Henry handed the spear back to her and gave a little nod, "Here. I think you're going to need this."

Joan furrowed her brow thoughtfully as she took back the improvised pennon, "Henri... you and your friends have done enough for this village already and I know this is mostly our fight now. We didn't pay you to come and throw your lives away for nothing so I'd understand if you wanted to leave now."

Henri gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword and let his own blue eyes meet hers, "I can't speak for my two friends, but I've decided to stay. After hearing the things you said to your father and to this crowd right now, I think there's something worth fighting and dying for here that's greater than gold... peace for our kingdom and pride in ourselves."

The Benoit siblings exchanged a quiet look with each other and nodded in agreement before they stepped forward to join the others in solidarity. Joan graced them with another grateful smile before looking to Henri, "So you've changed your mind? You really believe in this cause? In God's will for France?"

"Honestly... I'm still not completely sure," he admitted with a faint grin, "But I know I want to believe again and that counts for something, doesn't it?"

Joan beamed in gratitude before a horn sounded and some of the royal soldiers began looking toward the north end of the town. They drew their weapons and listened as one of their comrades called out from a rooftop, "The English raiders are attacking again! They're making for the town center!"

At that signal, Joan took her pennon and gave it another wave determined to galvanize everyone's spirits and rally the people around her once again, "People of Donremy! Stand together! Now is the time to show England we are not afraid!"

This encouraged many of the people and they gave a cheer as the soldiers fell in line and other townspeople who were originally non-combatants picked up anything they could use as a weapon. Henri took up a steel shield from a fallen royal soldier and gathered his comrades along with a few others to act as an honor guard for Joan. He gave a wave of his weapon as they fell into formation, "Come with me!"

As the defenders hurried on foot in a massed column, the could see smoke rising from the edge of town where the renewed assault by the invaders was coming from. When they got closer, they could see some light from the flames engulfing the rooftops of a few buildings while the smell of smoke and ash grew stronger. Joan gripped her pennon and tensed her muscles as she led her small "army" forward to drive out the raiders. They rounded a corner and saw another large band of the Saxon mercenaries already looting a few empty homes while putting others to the torch.

Having been caught off guard and not expecting to see such a large group of local defenders gather to challenge them, the mercenaries wearing English red stopped what they were doing and stared dumbly for a moment while the ragtag company of French soldiers and townspeople did the same. They were immediately spurred to action as Joan waved her banner and gave an encouraging shout, "Forward! Charge them!"

The armored French royal soldiers in blue tunics led the push with their raised shields followed by their mercenary allies and the townspeople who fanned out into the large northern square. A fierce melee broke out as steel met steel and combatants pushed against each other to gain an upper hand. While the Saxon marauders had the advantage of chainmail armor and experience, it only did so much against mobs of town watchmen and angry peasants wielding sickles, pitchforks, and clubs. Amid the ferocious hand to hand that raged, Roger swung his halberd in wide arcs scything down a couple of Saxons with the fearsome axe head to clear a path for Joan. To Joan's sides, Henri and Angie protected her too. Henri battered a raider back with an armored shoulder check before bashing another one down with his shield and gutting him with his sword. At the other flank, Angie shot a charging raider before drawing her own short sword and using it to defend herself at close range against the onslaught.

Amid the shouting, the ringing of steel, and the suffocating heat from the blaze around them, it almost felt as if they were trapped in some hellish terrifying inferno. In the confusion and chaos, Joan found herself buffeted around and separated from her mercenary protectors. Here and there she swung her spear to strike away enemies until she realized she was now open and vulnerable. That was when she saw two Saxon warriors in red capes move toward her. They wore murderous looks and carried hand-axes as they stalked closer like predatory wolves. Joan leveled her spear again and took a defensive stance, trying her best to give them a warning look. The first Saxon scoffed in amusement and attacked first raising his weapon for a blow.

Joan planted her feet and swung her spearhead to ward off the strike before feinting a thrust to give her foe pause. As he did, she shifted her weight and used a move Angie taught her to twirl the other end of the weapon around to smash it into the side of the raider's head. Joan gave a cry as she let her own fear and adrenaline take over using her spearhead to slash the leg of the Saxon and drop him to the ground in a heap. She had been so focused on her enemy, she momentarily forgot about the other mercenary to attacked her from the side. Joan gasped again and raised her spear just in time to block the strike but the sheer force knocked her off balance and swept the weapon out of her hand. The girl fumbled at her side for her father's shortsword but before she could draw it, the raider slammed his shoulder into her and knocked her over to the dirt. As she toppled over in a stunned heap, the white lily flower she wore in her hair also fell to the ground.

Amidst the vicious melee that continued to swirl about, Henri spotted Joan go down and fumble her sword. He and his two mercenary companions had grouped close to each other and were already fighting off a handful of raiders in a violent tussle. They were all banged up and beginning to tire, but they were now running on pure adrenaline and battle fury as well. He slashed aside his foe and disengaged calling for his two friends to hold the line. Henri turned and sprinted as fast as he could in his armor as the raider loomed over Joan while she scrambled back to her feet. The Saxon growled and stamped down on the fallen flower with his boot before he prepared to finish the pesky farm girl off.

Just as the axe came down, Henri threw himself sideways and tackled Joan to get her clear of harm. As the two fell over each other and rolled over, Henri grunted at having the Saxon's axe clip his armored pauldron and bruise his left shoulder. He and Joan exchanged a quick look before the raider struck again with a downward chopping blow but Henri raised his round steel shield just in time to block it. Under the cover of the shield, Joan gripped her father's sword and burst forth under Henri's arm, surprising the raider by plunging her blade into the enemy's unprotected side. The marauder dropped his axe and gave a gurgling grunt before collapsing backwards into the dirt.

Joan gripped her bloodied sword and stared at it for a moment before Henri placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "Joan, are you okay?"

She took a deep breath and nodded before rising up and waving the other defenders onward with her sword, "Keep pushing! We're almost there! We can win the day!"

Having witnessed her courage and her continued resolve, the peasant defenders and the royal soldiers gave a spirited cheer and redoubled their efforts pushing back against the raiders until the enemy mercenaries broke ranks and fled in a rout. As the last of the broken enemy company turned and fled for their lives, the allies gave several victorious cheers and whoops of joy. As some of the smoke from the fires started to lift, the gloomy skies above began to clear as well. Here and there, columns of late afternoon sunlight streamed down from the heavens seeming to offer hope and divine favor on the outcome of that skirmish. Bodies of dead and wounded littered the square as the battered and exhausted survivors grouped together continuing to celebrate.

The villagers and soldiers who had seemed to doubt Joan's words and courage before now began to surround her offering their praise and adulation. Their victory was in part because of her inspiration and determination to prove that Donremy could stand up for itself even in its darkest hour. While Joan found herself suddenly mobbed by her fellow townsfolk, Henri stopped in surprise to see the trampled flower in the dirt that was once worn in Joan's hair. He picked it up gently with his dirty gauntlet and tucked it away to safety before Roger and Angie approached giving tired waves.

"Well, we've survived another bad one," Roger grinned as he clasped Henri's hand and slung an arm over his comrades, "God must have a sense of humor after all."

Henri couldn't help but laugh a little as he put his other arm over Angie and the three stood watching the villagers cheer on a bemused looking Joan. Angie turned and sighed, "She's really something, isn't she?"

Henri simply nodded with a smile as he looked on, "Yeah... she is."

Roger clapped him on the shoulder guard and the three mercenaries came over to push their way through to Joan. As the peasant girl greeted her comrades, she was surprised as both Henri and Roger quickly lifted her up on their shoulders while Angie retrieved Joan's improvised spear/pennon and handed it to her. Joan simply laughed and gave the flag another wave inspiring a fresh wave of cheers and laughter from the villagers and soldiers present.

As the blue flag fluttered in the cool autumn air and its fleur de lis caught the light of the sunlight breaking through the clouds above, the cheering grew even louder. Even if the little town of Donremy was just a lesser skirmish in the overall battle at Vaucouleurs, the people of the village felt like they had won the whole war against the English, even if it was only for that day. As a grimy faced Joan continued waving the flag with her new friends, she hoped that this spirit and belief in the people could continue on until the kingdom of France was once again whole and that a lasting peace was restored.

A/N:
For those who have come this far, stay tuned. One more chapter to go to wrap things up here.