Joan

by Katherine J. Chen

He explains, seeing she is skeptical, “I know what I am talking about, for are there not some in the world who have only to look at a lute before they are able to pluck its strings and make music? And as for the poets, I have heard their best work comes to them in sleep and in dreaming, as though a voice speaks directly into their ear, or that whole verses will materialize out of thin air in a flash of understanding. It cannot be explained, so do not try. It is simply genius.” Give her any weapon, and she will know how to use it. After an hour, she will make short work of the masters of the poleax, the mace, the crossbow, weapons she has never picked up before. Now she understands that even a grown man who has trained since he was a small boy cannot catch up to her. It isn’t really fair, but who ever said that life was fair? Different words are used to describe her condition. She is gifted, special, remarkable, a nonpareil fighter; Dunois says there will never be one like her again—at least not for another age. Joan is blessed.