Page 407 of Historical Hotties
“I do not feel right praying to the Blessed Virgin,” he said. “Do you think I can simply talk to the Maid instead?”
Bastian smiled faintly at the boy. “She would like for you to speak to her,” he said softly. “Say what is in your heart and let us be done with this. We must leave before we are discovered.”
Henry nodded quickly and turned back to the small grave. “My name is Henry,” he said quietly. “England is my kingdom. I know you do not think that France belongs to me but I think it does, at least some of it, but I will not argue it with you. I just want you to know that I am sorry for what my soldiers did to you. I pray that you are at peace with Our Holy Father now.”
He crossed himself again just as a ray of light beamed forth from the window behind him, streaming in through the open window, creating a dance of light a few feet away. The sun was brighter now as morning was underway and streams of light were coming in from most windows at this point, but this beam of light was different. It was quite blinding and seemed to be shimmering somewhat. It was lighting up the entire corner of the transept.
Bastian had turned away by now, moving to join his wife, but Henry happened to glance over at the light simply because it was so blinding. As he did, he abruptly came to a halt and stared at it. Frozen to the spot, he didn’t move. Bastian made his way back to Gisella, completely ignorant of the fact that Henry was still standing there, looking at the sunbeam. He was only aware of it when his wife spoke.
“Where is Henry?” she asked.
Bastian looked behind him, realizing the boy hadn’t followed. He could see the lad, tucked back in the transept, just standing there as sunlight streamed around him. They couldn’t see his face because he was turned away from them and Bastian didn’t want to yell, so he retraced his steps back into the transept until he reached the young king.
“Your Grace?” he hissed. When he received no reaction, he spoke louder. “Henry? Come along, now. We must leave.”
Henry didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, he turned to look at Bastian with tears in his eyes and glory in his expression. Shocked, Bastian grasped the boy gently.
“Henry?” he asked softly. “Why do you weep? What is wrong?”
Henry’s face was full of joy and wonder. The child looked as if he were having a fit of some kind because his lips worked but no sound was coming forth. When he finally spoke, it was in a tone Bastian had never heard before.
“Did you see her?” he finally gasped.
Bastian frowned with confusion. “Who?”
Henry gasped again, with joy, pointing to the corner of the transept where the sunbeam was weakening as the sun rose higher in the morning sky.
“Her,” he insisted. “The golden lady. She said, ‘May God so keep you, ma bête’. You did not hear her?”
Bastian didn’t know what to say. He stared at the boy, who was overwhelmed by some kind of euphoria. It was evident all about him. Bastian’s gaze moved to the light in the corner, now fading in intensity.Ma bête.That was what the Maid had called him, making light of his nickname, his persona, that which followed him.My beast. She was the only one who had ever called him that and there was no possible way for Henry to know that. No one knew it, not even Gisella. He was stunned.
“Nay,” he said softly, still looking at the beam of light in the corner. “I did not hear her. Is… is she still there?”
Henry looked at the corner again where the light was fading. “Nay,” he said, awe in his voice. “She is gone. She was smiling when she said it. She was smiling atme. I truly saw her, Bastian. I swear that I did.”
Bastian’s gaze was still focused on the sunbeam, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t know why he instantly believed the young king about his vision, but he did. Perhaps it was because he’d long suspected that the saints had actually spoken to the Maid. Now, it would seem that he had his proof in the form of young Henry’s vision. The Maid had been telling the truth all along. She had indeed reappeared as she said she would, but not to the whole of England. Only to the king, who represented all she had fought against.
As he gazed into the sunlit corner, something more occurred to him. The Maid had sworn to return before Michaelmas.I shall know my vindication only after my death.AlthoughBastian really hadn’t known what to expect, in what form that vindication might take, perhaps an apology from a gentle young king was enough. That was all her unwavering spirit had needed. Her heart was finally buried and her soul, finally, was at peace.
“I believe you,” he finally said, turning Henry away from the corner and out to where Gisella was waiting for them. “But I am not sure anyone else would. Mayhap we should not tell anyone else what you have seen.”
“Why not?”
He looked seriously at the boy. “The Maid said that God spoke to her,” he said. “You saw what happened to her.”
Henry thought seriously on that a moment. “It would be different if I said that God spoke to me,” he insisted. “I am the king. Everyone must listen to me.”
Bastian patted the boy on the shoulder. “Mayhap,” he said. “But for now, let it be our secret, just as we share the secret of the Maid’s heart. Some things are best kept to ourselves. This journey to Winchester is just for us, Henry. Someday, we may tell others, but for now, this is something only unto us. Some people do not have the faith you and I have and visions from Heaven frighten them.”
Henry didn’t seem particularly distressed by the fact that Bastian was advising him to keep his vision a secret. Deep down, he understood. He was a wise and pious boy, and he understood that sometimes men of lesser faith did not understand such things. But he knew what he saw. It had filled him with more joy than he’d ever experienced in his young life. He couldn’t explain it any other way.
“Ma bête,”he said as he took Gisella’s hand and headed out into the nave. “What does that mean?”
Gisella, listening to the conversation, had no idea what the boy was speaking of and looked to her husband curiously. Bastian waved her off, indicating that he would explain it later.When they were alone, he would try to explain what had happened. For now, he remained focused on the king and their conversation.
“It means ‘my beast’,” he said softly.
Henry looked at him, sharply. “But men call you Beast!”
