Tuesday, May 13, 2008


Jasfoup was present when they burned her alive. That’s not the end he would have chosen for her – he’d envisioned her entering a convent at thirty, the insanity that had begun when she was twelve finally gnawing through her brain and sending her to abbess by the time she was fifty. Still, Joan d’Arc had been a delight to tempt, feeding her national hatred of the English and giving her just enough inside information for onlookers to doubt the cries of insanity. When the end came he consoled her in her cell, promising her eternal life (but neglecting to mention where) and a place in history for as long as Hollywood saw fit. He even stood with her in the flames, slicing the nerve endings in her spine so that she didn’t have to endure the pain, and devising the recipe for French Toast.

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