“Come, Jehanne,”
my escort, Jean Massieu, says kindly.
“There was hardly a cloud all day,
so the stars will crowd the sky tonight.”
I ask Reverend Massieu
if we are done with the trial.
The reverend cannot meet my eyes.
He heard something
that he fears will bring me sadness.
Over the midday break,
Reverend Massieu heard the bishop
discuss moving questioning
to my prison chamber.
I will be deprived of the joy
and relief of leaving my cell.
Tears branch down my face.
“Reverend Massieu,
why do they hate me so?”
“You have shamed
and humiliated them.
You defeated their armies.
You are an illiterate girl
whom God speaks to
instead of them,
all learned men of the church.
They expect to tell you what to do,
not be instructed by you.
They fear you.
You are dangerous.
They must destroy you.”