The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc Page #13

EXT. TOURELLES - COMPLEX - DAY

The English cackle with delight at the sight of the dying

French writhing in the flaming oil. Redbeard -- in charge

of the multiple balista -- orders the device to be

reloaded, then yells through the upper portcullis...

REDBEARD:

Hey, what happened to the whore?

Sorry... virgin!

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

Dunois views the massacred soldiers lying on the bridge

amid the dying flames. Jeanne is about to mount her

horse...

REDBEARD:

Send her over here and she won't

stay a virgin for long!

DUNOIS:

Jeanne, don't do it! Just stop and

think for once! Don't you see? The

gate's a trap... and he's the bait!

Redbeard roars with laughter as Jeanne yells back --

JEANNE:

I take pity on your soul,

Englishman!

EXT. TOURELLES - COMPLEX - DAY

Redbeard checks the reloading of the balista...

REDBEARD:

What the matter? Frightened of a

little English stuffing?

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

Jeanne gently puts her arm around her horse's neck,

whispering to it...

JEANNE:

We must both be brave...

She kisses it lightly, then grabs her banner from Louis,

calling out to the others --

JEANNE:

When you see my banner touch the

door, the fortress is ours!

... and away she rides, across the drawbridge, still piled

with the slaughtered men from the first attack.

REDBEARD:

... and... fire!!

Another volley of arrows discharges from the portcullis

and Jeanne's horse collapses. The English cheer...

INT. TOURELLES - TURRET - DAY

From his garret window high above, Glasdale sees Jeanne

spread-eagled next to her dead horse on the drawbridge

below. He turns to his servant with a grin...

GLASDALE:

This time she won't be back.

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

Aulon gapes in horror... but then suddenly Jeanne is back

up on her feet again. Gripping her banner, she dashes

forward toward the portcullis, implanting it just as

Redbeard opens a little sliding grille -- Jeanne jabs her

banner through --

EXT. TOURELLES - COMPLEX - DAY

... impaling Redbeard's skull on the far side! His body

crumples to the ground, wedged between the base of the

portcullis and the balista.

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

Jeanne runs back across the drawbridge, crying out...

JEANNE:

The place is ours!

EXT. TOURELLES - COMPLEX - DAY

Inside the Tourelles, the English try to operate the

reloaded balista. But Redbeard's corpse is wedged so

tightly that they can't move it...

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

Jeanne moves aside as La Hire and his men heave the carts

laden with tree-trunk battering-rams across the bridge...

INT. TOURELLES - TURRET - DAY

Glasdale has seen enough...

INT. TOURELLES - DAY

... He tears down into the courtyard, mustering soldiers

as he goes --

GLASDALE:

To arms! To arms!

With a triumphant battle-cry, the French charge their

battering-ram into the portcullis...

EXT. TOURELLES - COMPLEX - DAY

... demolishing it like matchwood, then storm inside the

fortress. Glasdale cries out to his troops --

GLASDALE:

Soldiers... In the name of the king,

I want you to kill these French dogs

until there's none left!

The English troops swarm either side of the broken

portcullis, forcing most of the French back onto the

battery...

EXT. TOURELLES - BATTERY - DAY

La Hire lets out a blood-curdling, primeval war-cry and

charges forward to meet the English wave head on. Jeanne

is caught in the middle, buffeted from side to side by a

sea of heaving, sweating, bleeding bodies...

In this melee it is impossible to know who is friend or

foe, and the images become so blurred that we and Jeanne

are soon lost in a mist of dust and noise...

EXT. TOURELLES - DREAM - DAY

FLASH:
our eyes are momentarily blinded by the sun... and

when we return, we find Jeanne in the middle of the

battery, but now totally alone, weaving her sword through

the air in SLOW MOTION as she once did with her stick...

EXT. FIELD - DREAM - DAY/NIGHT

FLASH:
Jeanne is still weaving the air with her sword,

but she is now a little girl of eight, playing in the

field we first saw her in. The small BOY looks at her,

smiling...

FLASH:
Jeanne continues to play, but is now 17, and the

boy is now a young MAN, still smiling. He calls out to

her.

MAN:

Jeanne... what are you doing?

JEANNE:

Playing...

She sweeps her sword and decapitates a flower. Blood

flows from the stalk... Jeanne looks at it, more in

childish curiosity than astonishment or horror. She

looks at the sword, the blade now streaked with blood...

MAN:

Jeanne... what are you doing?

Jeanne pauses, looks at him steadily... and suddenly

notices that blood is trickling down his face. A SHAFT OF

LIGHT blazes, wind billows... and suddenly it's winter,

the trees naked, heavy with snow...

MAN:

What have you done to me, Jeanne?

Jeanne looks horrified. The Man puts his hands to her

face, gazing deep into her eyes...

MAN:

What have you done to me?

JEANNE:

I -- I -- I...

EXT. TOURELLES - COURTYARD - DAY

Jeanne is screaming at Aulon, who is gripping her blood-

splattered face as the Man did...

AULON:

Jeanne, calm down, do you hear me?

Are you alright?

JEANNE:

Yes...

AULON:

It's over, Jeanne. We won, just as

you said!

Jeanne looks about her in a daze. La Hire strides over,

arms extended, extravagant as always --

LA HIRE:

Jeanne, come here my friend, my

soldier... in my arms!

Jeanne starts laughing -- she can't believe it...

JEANNE:

We... won?!

LA HIRE:

Won?! Such a small word will never

do! This is victory, Jeanne, this

is... glory!

He scoops her up in his bear-like arms like an ebullient

lover, both laughing in the moment. He slowly turns her

around, breathing in a great lungful of air and savoring

the smell of what Jeanne now sees over his shoulder: the

entire courtyard, knee-deep in bodies and bits of bodies

-- including the gallant Xaintrailles.

Jeanne too can smell the reek of fresh, warm gore. Her

laugh turns to a cry of anguish. La Hire sets her back

down...

LA HIRE:

Jeanne -- what's the matter??

Jeanne is utterly horrified... her legs tremble... amber

liquid trickles down her armor...

JEANNE:

You call this... glory...? All

this... this blood... this smell

of...

LA HIRE:

... the smell of victory, Jeanne!

Mmmmmmm! I love it!

JEANNE:

It's not possible...

Jeanne sees a French soldier of meager wit, hauling a

dying English soldier onto his knees for some obscure

purpose.

GILLES:

You look disappointed... Isn't this

what you wanted?

JEANNE:

No... not like this...

GILLES:

For weeks you've been asking for

this... well now you have it!

The Soldier is about to smash the Englishman's mouth with

a mace. Jeanne snaps out of her momentary stupor and

races across, stumbling over the dead bodies...

JEANNE:

Stop it! What are you doing?

SOLDIER:

Nothing... just taking his teeth.

JEANNE:

But you can't just kill a man for

his teeth!

SOLDIER:

Why not? He has good teeth...

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