By the time daylight was creeping back into existence, I was wakening naturally. About this time I would be preparing myself for my daily duties at court. Were I still at the palace, I would be tending to little Louis, fussing and coddling him for hours at a time. Instead, I was attending to my duty elsewhere. Aramis was finally sleeping, breathing deeply with light, periodic snores. Gazing at him fondly, I brushed aside his hair and moved the cloak so that it covered us both, remaining against him so that he was not wakened by my absence should I rise. I watched the camp come alive as the sun continually rose, people trickling from their beds to begin their own morning ablutions, noise and sound gradually increasing as more people stirred from slumber. I watched them all dreamily, blinking slowly as I observed the movement of the camp until Emilie's mother appeared.
She veered towards us, carrying a large earthenware jug. When she reached us, she kicked at Aramis's foot despite my protest, but he awoke sharply and immediately tightened his grip upon me. "Emilie wants to see you," she announced flatly. "But first, you can help me." Setting down the jug, she walked away expectantly, leaving Aramis and I to blink after her.
"I will go," he decided, flicking back the cloak but before I rose to follow, he leaned across and kissed my cheek. "Good morning, my sweet."
"Good morning to you too, beloved husband." Teasing him gently, I fussed at his hair for a moment before Aramis rolled onto his feet and lifted the jug, allowing me to draw at the cloak and fold it neatly over my arm, watching him go. Taking this opportunity, I went to Emilie's tent and entered to find her alone. "Forgive the intrusion, your mother said that you wanted to see us." Announcing myself politely, I lingered by the entryway, angling myself so that I was only partially inside as Emilie turned towards the sound of my voice. "Unless you meant you only wished to speak to Aramis?"
"Not at all, please come inside. I hope you slept well," inviting me to enter, I dropped the flap of the tent after stepping inside.
"I did, thank you." I paused. "I could not help but hear your disturbances, however. Are you alright? Such dreams must exhaust you," without even realising I had done so, I had stretched up my hand to touch the back of it against Emilie's brow as she blinked those large, wide eyes upon me. "Hm…you are a little warm. Do you feel feverish at all?"
"No, but it is good of you to ask, so thank you. Your soul is a kind one, it is as plain as day." Such praise was of course greatly appreciated, though I thought her too generous in her compliment.
"I only wish to be of service to others. Perhaps God guided me to follow my husband so that I might be of service to you in some way, Emilie." This notion seemed to please the young woman, for she smiled brightly and looked somewhat gratified to think of someone other than her mother caring for her. She looked as if she had taken her first breath of fresh air in many moons, her shoulders lowering as they relaxed.
"You must be hungry. Join me, and we shall break our fast together." Admittedly, I was a little peckish, so I gladly accepted and joined her for a light breakfast which was washed down with ale. After we were done, Aramis returned with the water he had fetched from the river, setting down the jug to enter the tent where Emilie was sat in anticipation of his arrival. Upon seeing him, she beamed radiantly. "I had a vision," she declared earnestly. "I saw you and me with the king. You were close by my side." Grasping at his hand, Emilie held it tightly as I rose from my seat to offer it to Aramis as he squeezed kindly at the girl's fingers, letting them slip through his grasp as he came to sit opposite her. still she smiled. "I was happy."
"What else did you dream of?" Speaking softly, Aramis rested his arms against his legs as I stood beside him, leaning slightly against his frame as my hand settled upon his shoulder. The very image of a devoted husband and wife. "I heard your screams." At this, Emilie's smile faded, like a ray of sunlight vanishing behind a dark cloud.
"Death. Suffering. A terror like a sharp blade cutting at my soul." I pitied her. To my reckoning, I could not imagine God would wish such ill visions to constantly plague His children, yet here Emilie suffered every night because of these dreams. "I pray when the Spanish are defeated, God brings me peace."
"How can you be so sure these visions come from God?" A little of her glowing smile returned.
"I feel God's light inside me. I have no doubts." At the very least, I admired her conviction. Such assuredness was rarely found, even amongst those of faith. There was a pureness to her confidence which seemed to make her all the more precious, and I began to understand why so many chose to follow the words of a young woman so readily devoted to the words of a higher power. "Even in the agony there is a joy beyond comprehension. This is all His will, it's not mine." Lifting her hand, she gestured to the heavens. "How can I ignore it?"
"It must feel a terrible burden at times," I sympathised, beginning to rub at Aramis's shoulders as I dimly thought they might be stiff from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position all night. "Your devotion and faith are inspiring, Emilie."
"I am merely a instrument of God's will, anyone of faith would do the same were they in my position." Now this I did not believe, for it was the nature of mankind to be greedy and selfish, but here stood a girl so pure and zealous that I felt a strong urge to protect her, even from herself. I knew not where these visions came from, whether they truly were from God or from a more sinister source, but I knew the outcome of this venture could lead only to one end. The same ending Joan of Arc had found. I did not wish for such a fate to befall Emilie.
She invited us to walk about the camp with her, wanting to show us what she and the other commonfolk had built since she had called them to arms. We readily accepted, for it was an opportunity for us to see what provisions and weaponry these people possessed. For the most part, it seemed rather lacking. "My people are restless," Emilie finally noted as we walked together, Aramis and I flanking her side as we moved through the camp. "They love their king. Why does he not love them? I don't know how long I can contain their anger."
"That sounds like a threat," as Aramis spoke, a little girl approached Emilie who beamed welcomingly to her, offering her hand which the little one brightly accepted to join us in our walk.
"The king and I are both servants of God. We must obey His will. He must send for me soon."
"What one person interprets, another may differ in opinion," I reasoned gently, "the king is anointed by God, but he does not receive the same visions of prompting as you. He does not sense the urgency of your appeal, or realise the restlessness of his people."
"Then he should see for himself. When was the last time he walked among his own people and heard their voices?" At Emilie's innocent question, Aramis and I looked at one another wryly. If only she knew. We had quite a tale to tell about that. We bypassed that branch in the conversation and returned instead to the most important matter at hand.
"If you march on Spain, most of these people will die." Seeing a woman bowing reverently to Emilie as we passed, Aramis had touched her face and looked imploringly to Emilie. "Do you think God can protect them from muskets, artillery, gunpowder?" Whether blinded to the truth or simply so utterly convinced in her cause Emilie did not understand the reality of injury and death, she offered no hint of concern for the enemy's weapons or armies.
"I know He will. Faith is the only armour we need."
"It is a thinner armour than you might think. God can only do so much amongst so many. It is outrageous to want to test his power by praying for protection whilst walking onto the field of battle and expecting to emerge unscathed. We are responsible for our own actions, everything we do will have consequence." Looking down at the little girl who still held Emelie's hand, I rested my hand atop her head. "God watches over us, but we instruct our own fate."
"You speak well, and there is an element of truth to your words, but my mind is clear. I cannot ignore what is so plainly set before me, and I cannot act alone in this. Everyone you see is here because they too share in my belief that God has willed us to end the Antichrist who is Philip of Spain." Seeing that we were getting nowhere, I inclined my head towards Aramis, indicating that I would remain silent for a while so he promptly continued our line of question.
"Why Spain? Why not England or the Holy Roman Empire?"
"It is not for me to say." Continuing to walk, Aramis and I hastened after her.
"You think God told you explicitly that King Philip was the Antichrist?" Now halting in order to look upon him, Emilie's expression was kindly and gentle, overflowing with understanding.
"I know you don't believe in me, Aramis, but I know you for a good man." Stooping down, Emilie lifted the little girl into her arms, pausing to look at him once more. "You won't betray me." She left us then to ponder her worldly riddles.
"She has the measure of you," I finally broke the silence, watching as her form receded into the business of the campground. Aramis cocked an eyebrow towards me. I nudged at him gently. "You are indeed a good man." Chuckling richly, Aramis drew an arm around me and together, we walked on through the camp.