It was around the 1st day of June of the year 1431 that Remy met his companion Jehanne, whom he called Jehan to shorten her name, much to her chagrin. He was traveling along the River Seine when he saw Jehan on the banks, floating like a log. After recovering Jehan from the waters, he might have said something, because the first thing she said to him was, “Unhand me, you English dog!”

  He replied, “That is rude, and although I know the English's tongue, do you really have to scold me for using it? Or do you scold every good Samaritan who helps you? Or do I smell funny?”

  Jehan said nothing. Nonetheless, as a man out of time with decent morals, Remy still took Jehan near his horse, made a campfire and let her dry herself. He offered a blanket and clothes for her to change. He thought, this woman was certainly rather ignorant or uncaring about her privacy. With little hesitation, she turned her back toward him and took her clothes off to change.

  He said, “Can you please change while not near me?”

  She said nothing and kneeled on the soil in prayer. He could tell she was a devoted servant of God. While he was eating his food, Jehan prayed without pause. Remy was not a man of God, but his recent crossing into this time had made him question if God was real as well.

  After all, who else than God would take him here?

  After Jehan was done praying, he gave her some of his food and then sat watching the river Seine. Truthfully, his goal was to enter the city, but after hearing the commotion and rumors of a 'heretic' in the city, he thought to himself that it would be wise if he stayed away from it. The people of this era were rather brutal. Burning someone at the stake truly was a barbaric method, but then again this wasn’t his time, where even a single line could ruin one’s life because words taken out of context.

  Still, he must confess, he’d been trying to find a way back home, but the years had made him realize that it was not plausible and he had to do it the hard way. He did not wish to die in some city, so he decided to prepare his wealth, a horse, get armed, bid farewell to his second life's home, and let the winds take him.

  While he was lost in thought, Jehan lifted her face and spoke. “I thank you for pulling me out of the river, Monsieur.”

  “No worry,” he said. “Do you have a home in the city or a village you wish to return home to? I can take you there.”

  “No, I am dead to the people.”

  “Dead? Oh, do you have people after you? Or do you wish to run away from your betrothed? I will not judge you.”

  “No, I am fleeing from my enemies. I was supposed not to survive, but to my great surprise, I found myself in that river.”

  “Oh, then you should thank God for such a miracle,” he pointed out.

  She smiled sadly. “I have. I did not expect to live.”

  Jehan was often reticent, her thoughts wandering far beyond their immediate surroundings. It seemed as though she had glimpsed enlightenment, perhaps a result of narrowly avoiding death. Remy found himself drawn into her silent contemplations, and despite her quiet demeanor, she persuaded him to accept her as his companion. However, they still needed to discuss their next destination, a conversation that her persuasive nature inevitably steered in her favor.

  Jehan was somewhat average, stocky, sunbrowned, with dark eyes, a red birthmark behind her left ear. Her black hair was bobbed and yet seemed to have grown long enough to touch her shoulders. She had a light feminine voice. She ate little and was somewhat interested in horses. After she had been sure that he was not an “English dog,” she became cheerful and conversed with him with ease.

  “Sir Remy, tell me, what do you intend to do?” she asked.

  “Do you know your way? I could use a guide.”

  He told her he had some ideas but he had been young and was visiting with his cousin, Charles. Jehan advised him to head south. After much contemplation, he decided to do so. Although he wanted to enter Rouen, seeing Jehan’s discomfort, he had to reconsider.

  Based on his basic understanding and blurry knowledge of the region, the nearest city was Paris, situated about eighty-one miles southeast of Rouen of his own calculation. Initially, Jehanne expressed a preference to walk alongside his horse, but after much persuasion, she agreed to ride on its back. After approximately two days of travel, they arrived at the outskirts of Paris and decided to halt near a farm for some much-needed rest. The farmer proved to be hospitable and kind.

  He also advised Remy that it wasn’t long that Paris was besieged, that there would be English dogs in the city. Which made him ask what he was talking about, since he was not familiar with the affairs since it had been long since he had left France and traveled to Spain and Rome. So, he had to talk with the farmer and learn much that Paris was effectively governed by the English-backed Burgundian faction, which was in conflict with the French royalists led by Charles VII.

  He was ignorant of what Charles VII were fighting for. Which was partly because he had ignored all lessons about his family. But he did recall that Joan of Arc was burned at the stake in Rouen, which made him sad that he did not see the true face of La Pucelle.

  The farmer regarded the death of the Maid of Orleans as a tragedy. Remy asked Jehan what her thoughts were, but she held no opinion of her death. The farmer asked him about his relations with Jehan and why a woman like her was wearing male clothing. Although because of the Maid, many had done so, but after she was burned on the stake, was frowned on by some.

  He told him she was his companion and explained that who in their right mind would travel in a skirt? The farmer thought of it as acceptable and said nothing more.

  Jehan approached him while he was looking at the grains. He was helping the farmer count his peas, beans, and lentils. She asked him this, “You are a strange man, Sir Remy. Your morals are somewhat strange.”

  “The Galatians says, ‘There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  She smiled. “You are a scholar, Sir Remy? Or perhaps a priest?”

  “It’s complicated,” He smiled confidently. “Trust me, Jehan. I have studied the words of God and have memorized it.”

  By chance, Remy found himself delving into the Bible. During his elementary years, in his first life, he attended a Christian school where he was introduced to its teachings. Throughout high school, he kept King James Bibles close at hand, largely due to the bible being passed down from his father. Though he didn't consider himself a devout Christian, his young mind found the tales within the Bible intriguing and led him to his career as a surgeon. So, while he wouldn't describe himself as a God-fearing Christian, he was certainly drawn to its stories.

  “Then I hope we can discuss it.”

  “Maybe we can do so every Sunday.”

  The farmer, after hearing him, insisted that he tell them the word of God, so he told them, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

  He told them a few Proverbs, “Those who work their land will have abundant food, but those who chase fantasies have no sense.”

  After finishing his work in the fields, he joined the farmer for bidding. Jehan received an old dress from the farmer's wife. Though he sensed Jehan's inclination to retort, it felt unkind to rebut those with good intentions, so she simply nodded politely, keeping her thoughts to herself.

  Since Paris was not far from them, he walked with his horse and enjoyed the scenery. Jehan was looking at his boots and told him that people might have thoughts about it. Perhaps they would have, since it was a boot he made for himself and was more comfortable than the boots these people had. In fact, he was dressed much more comfortably, since he had made his own clothes before leaving for this journey. Though a closer look would reveal that he wore a plate and was heavily armed.

  “You know how to sew?”

  “Does that surprise you? Oh, do you want me to sew some clothes for you, Jehan?”

  “That… would be welcomed.”

  She glanced down at her attire, then resumed her stride. “You are a generous man, Monsieur Remy. Too generous.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, not everyone would accompany a stranger as his companion simply because she asked.”

  “Perhaps. But I sense goodness in you, Jehan. Your devotion to Christ earns my trust that you mean well. However, if you harbor any ulterior motives, I implore you, at the very least, spare my garments. I labored over them, and it would take me weeks to craft another. I am no master tailor.”

  “I would never dare. Perhaps... it is by the grace of God that our paths have crossed, Monsieur.”

  As they gazed up at the gathering clouds, he extended an offer to Jehan, inviting her to ride on the back of his horse. With caution, they made their way through the narrow cobblestone streets of Paris, flanked by timber-framed buildings and majestic stone edifices. Notre-Dame Cathedral loomed in the distance, its construction ongoing. The streets bustled with activity, alive with the hustle and bustle of daily life as if the problems in the other city didn’t matter. Merchants hawked their wares from makeshift stalls, while skilled artisans honed their crafts in the shadows of towering structures. The city walls, sturdy and imposing, encircled Paris, their gates guarded by vigilant sentinels, ensuring the safety of its inhabitants.

  Amidst the grandeur of noble residences, humble abodes of common folk nestled, each contributing to the rich tapestry of Parisian life. Towering fortifications and buildings punctuated the skyline. The Seine River meandered through the heart of the city, its gentle currents a lifeline for fishermen and traders alike. Bridges spanned its width, linking the disparate quarters of Paris and fostering connections among its diverse inhabitants.

  Jehan recommended that they consider staying at the renowned “Auberge du Mouton Blanc” inn for their rest. Situated in the vibrant heart of Paris, this establishment was a favored haven for weary travelers seeking comfort and respite. Its prime location near bustling markets and major thoroughfares made it an ideal choice for those traversing the city.

  Upon entering, it was evident that the innkeeper and staff were well-versed in catering to guests from diverse backgrounds, fostering a warm and inviting ambiance. The Auberge du Mouton Blanc offered essential amenities such as comfortable lodging, hearty meals, and a communal space where guests could gather and socialize with fellow travelers.

  They settled at a table, and he opted for a hearty bowl of thick soup, a medley of vegetables, grains, and savory meat, all simmered together to perfection. Alongside, he indulged in a succulent roasted chicken, generously seasoned with fragrant herbs and spices, promising a feast for the senses. Completing the meal, a slice of dark rye bread to enhance the flavors of the main courses.

  Jehan wanted to argue, but seeing how hungry he was, he suggested they seize the opportunity to eat heartily so they could then ration their food over the next few days. He gently reminded her that if she fell ill, she wouldn't be able to accompany him, which seemed to sway her hesitance to eat indulgently.

  Despite being accustomed to eating sparingly, he managed to coax Jehan into joining him for what turned out to be quite a gluttonous feast, battling her usual politeness and sensibility.

  After giving thanks for the bountiful meal, he took the chance to rest, having spent too long on the road. Upon waking, he found Jehan gazing at the bustling city with a look of disbelief.

  Though he worried about potential enemies after her and wanted to know, Jehan remained tight-lipped. It occurred to him then that despite the societal norms of women being obedient to men of this era, she possessed certain unique qualities that weren't like the common women of this time had. After all, she had survived by floating downriver to escape her enemies, suggesting she likely had foes who believed her to be dead or wanted her dead.

  He sat with Jehan and asked her a few questions. She shared that she lived in the village of Greux. Her days were filled with tending to the fields, milking cows, and assisting her family with household chores. She also mentioned how she spent time tending to her sheep in the fields nearby.

  But that didn’t answer how she ended up in a river, and she told him it was a rather long story.

  “I should have died in Rouen,” Jehan said. “But you rescued me. Is it the grace of God or chance?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know, Jehan. I only know that I was just in the right place and time.”

  “Monsieur Remy. Where do you wish to go?”

  “I don’t know. But I do wish to see the heart of Constantinople and visit Jerusalem and perhaps farther east!”

  “That is ambitious… but what about France?”

  “What about it?”

  Jehan clearly wanted to lecture him about saving France from the English, but he was deaf to most of her words and she was quick to realize he cared little about France at all.

  “So… Do you want to join me? It’ll be a pilgrimage.”

  Jehan stared at the bustling streets of Paris before nodding her head gently.

  "I have nowhere to go," she said.

  And that was how Remy had met her.