Leonardo sat on a rustic wooden chair inside a small tent designated for prisoners. His hands were tied with a rope that chafed his wrists every time he tried to move. The atmosphere was oppressive; the air seemed heavy with the tension of war, and the sounds of the camp—clashing swords, shouted orders, and snorting horses—kept his nerves on edge.
Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows that stretched across the tent's fabric. Leonardo knew he was in a precarious position. Though he had managed to maintain his composure in front of Joan and her soldiers, he wasn't sure how long he could keep up the lie without raising suspicions.
The tent flap suddenly opened, and Joan of Arc entered with firm steps. This time, she wasn't wearing her helmet, allowing her dark hair to be seen more clearly. Though her face was marked by exhaustion, her gaze was as intense as before, filled with a mix of determination and suspicion.
"So, you're the lost traveler, huh?" she said, crossing her arms as she stood in front of him.
Leonardo tried to stay calm. He knew that any poorly calculated response could cost him his life.
"That's right. My name is Leonardo Marchand, as I mentioned before."
Joan watched him in silence for a few seconds, as if waiting for something more. Then, she pulled a chair toward him and sat down, leveling with him.
"I'll be clear, Leonardo," she said in a firm but not aggressive tone. "We're at war. Every stranger who appears near our camp could be an English spy or a traitor. I don't trust you, and I won't trust you until you prove me otherwise."
Leonardo nodded slowly.
"I understand your distrust. If I were in your place, I'd do the same."
That seemed to surprise Joan, if only for a moment. She frowned, leaning slightly forward.
"So, what are you? A peasant? A merchant? A fallen noble?"
Leonardo swallowed. He couldn't keep saying he was just a traveler, so he opted for a more elaborate version of his story.
"I'm a scholar, as I said before. My passion is learning about the history of our lands, the customs of our people, the wars we've fought. I travel to learn and write about it."
Joan raised an eyebrow.
"And why would a man like you, a supposed scholar, travel alone on dangerous roads in times of war?"
Leonardo knew that question would come, and he had already thought of his answer.
"Passion for knowledge can make us reckless. I knew it was dangerous, but my desire to learn was stronger."
Joan remained silent, evaluating him. Then, she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed.
"You speak well, Marchand. Your words sound sincere, but they could also be the lies of a cunning man."
Leonardo took a breath, searching for a way to earn her trust. He decided to take a risk.
"I can't convince you with words, Joan," he said in a softer tone, using her name as she had allowed him to. "But I can show you that I'm not your enemy."
"Oh?" she asked, tilting her head. "And how do you plan to do that?"
Leonardo swallowed. Here came the gamble.
"Let me help you. I know stories of battles and strategies that could be useful. I'm not a warrior, but my knowledge could make a difference."
Joan stared at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Leonardo feared he had overstepped. But then, she stood up and began to circle him.
"You speak like a wise man, but you also seem desperate," she said as she moved around him. "I don't know if I can trust you."
Leonardo looked up at her, trying to appear steady.
"I'm neither wise nor desperate, Joan. I just want to help. I know this war is important, not just for France, but for everything you represent."
Joan stopped suddenly and looked him in the eye.
"And what do you think I represent?"
Leonardo felt a lump in his throat. He knew the answer, but he couldn't reveal his true knowledge.
"You represent hope, courage... and the faith of a people who have suffered too much."
Joan seemed surprised by his answer, though she tried not to show it. For the first time, her stern expression softened slightly.
"You speak as if you've known me for a long time, Marchand," she said with a faint smile that disappeared as quickly as it came. "But that doesn't absolve you of my doubts."
Leonardo nodded.
"I don't expect you to trust me right away. Just give me a chance to prove my loyalty."
Joan watched him for another moment before stepping back.
"Very well. We'll see if your words hold any value. For now, you'll remain under watch. But if I test you and you fail..." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I won't hesitate to hand you over to the men."
Leonardo nodded slowly, knowing his life hung by a thread.
"I understand. Thank you for giving me this chance."
Joan turned and left the tent, leaving Leonardo alone with his thoughts. As the sound of the soldiers' footsteps faded, he closed his eyes and sighed.
"Somehow, I've survived this far... but this is only the beginning."
He knew he would need all his wits to earn Joan's trust and prove he wasn't her enemy. Though he couldn't reveal the truth, he had something to offer: his knowledge of the past. A knowledge that, in this time, could change everything.
---
The day dawned cold and shrouded in mist. Leonardo was taken out of the prisoner's tent under the strict watch of two armed soldiers. His hands were still tied, though less tightly than the night before. The air carried a damp, earthy smell, mixed with the smoke from the campfires. The murmurs of the soldiers, combined with the clashing of weapons during training, created an orderly chaos that seemed natural for a time of war.
Joan was waiting for him at the foot of a hill, where her horse stood patiently. Her armor reflected the faint rays of sunlight struggling to pierce through the fog. This time, her expression was neutral, though her eyes still watched him intently.
"Marchand," Joan called in her usual commanding tone. "Today, you'll prove whether your words hold any value or if you're just a charlatan."
Leonardo stopped in front of her, holding his head high. He tried to appear calm, though fear and anxiety gnawed at him inside.
"I'm ready for any test," he replied firmly, though he knew the reality was far more complicated than his words.
Joan gestured for him to follow her. The soldiers escorted him as she led him to a map spread out on a makeshift wooden table. It was a rudimentary map of the region, marked with lines and symbols indicating troop positions and fortresses.
"We've received word that a group of English troops has taken a small nearby village," Joan explained, pointing to a spot on the map. "According to reports, they're fortifying themselves there, and we could face an ambush if we're not careful."
Leonardo studied the map with interest. Though the drawing was basic, he recognized the names of the places thanks to his knowledge of history. The situation matched an event he remembered from his studies.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, trying to stay calm.
Joan looked at him with a challenging expression.
"I want you to analyze this situation. If you're the scholar you claim to be, then use your knowledge to tell us what our next move should be."
Leonardo swallowed. This was his chance, but it was also a huge risk. He leaned over the map, studying the details while trying to recall everything he knew about the Hundred Years' War.
"How many men do you have available?" he asked, breaking the silence.
Joan crossed her arms.
"About two hundred soldiers. Mostly peasants with little experience, though we have a few trained knights."
Leonardo nodded, trying to calculate the odds.
"And the enemy?"
"We estimate they have around a hundred men," Joan replied. "But they're entrenched in the village, which gives them an advantage."
Leonardo frowned. This matched what he knew: the English were experts in fortifications and defense, especially when it came to holding off direct attacks.
"A frontal assault would be a mistake," he said finally. "We'd lose too many men before even getting close."
Joan raised an eyebrow.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Leonardo took a deep breath. It was time to put his knowledge to use.
"We can use a flanking tactic. Divide the men into two groups: one to simulate a frontal attack and distract the English, and another to flank them from the east, where the terrain is higher and less guarded. Once the English are focused on the main attack, the second group can surprise them from their weak point."
Joan watched him in silence, her face unreadable.
"You speak with confidence, Marchand. Why do you think this strategy will work?"
Leonardo looked up, meeting her eyes.
"Because terrain and distraction have always been key in war. The English are good at defending, but their focus on frontal lines often makes them vulnerable to side attacks."
Joan narrowed her eyes, as if evaluating him. Finally, she nodded.
"Very well. We'll test your idea. But if this fails, it'll be your head that pays the price."
Leonardo nodded, trying not to show the nervousness that gripped him.
"I won't let you down."
Joan turned to her men and began issuing orders. Meanwhile, Leonardo was freed from his bindings, though the soldiers continued to watch him closely.
**Hours later**
Leonardo watched from a nearby hill as the two groups of French soldiers moved according to the plan. Joan personally led the frontal attack, while the second group advanced silently along the flank. His heart pounded as he saw the English fall into the trap, diverting their forces to the main attack.
When the flanking group launched their surprise assault, the English camp descended into chaos. Within minutes, the enemy forces were completely routed.
Joan returned to the camp triumphant, a satisfied smile on her face. She approached Leonardo, who waited anxiously.
"Your strategy worked," she said, with a mix of admiration and caution. "Perhaps you're not a spy after all."
Leonardo smiled with relief.
"I only want to help."
Joan studied him for a few more seconds before nodding.
"You may have more worth than I thought, Marchand. But you're not free from my suspicions yet."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," he replied, inclining his head slightly.
Joan offered him a brief, almost friendly look before walking away. Meanwhile, Leonardo allowed himself a moment to breathe. He had passed his first test, but he knew the road ahead would be long and dangerous.
---