On the collapsing castle, the smoke had just cleared, and even from the sea, it was clear that the artillery fire of the English fleet had caused irreparable damage to the structure of the Norman wooden fort.

These were not easily caused by the large griffin cannons that fired eight-pounder shells on the Royal Oak, and the culprit behind the ruin, Captain Edward's rocket ship detachment, was daring to rush to the coastal hill where Fecon Castle sits.

"Those people didn't have to die." Harding, the son of Ansgar, put down the golden bronze telescope and commented on the bastard son of Mercia beside him.

"The ashes cannot be reversed, and there is no memory." "Bastard" Berenga's voice was a little snarky, "Only conquerors are qualified to record history. ”

"Our goal is to deliver supplies to the king's militia, and without the support of these local lords, should we have the sailors themselves go ashore to collect carts and horses, and let these paddlers wave their whips?"

The sound of artillery had completely ceased, and only the bells of the battle still rang rhythmically overhead.

"It doesn't look like Rouen is going to do us a favor." Looking at the smoking black fort, Berenga acknowledged the reality, "We look more like invaders than reinforcements now. ”

"I promised my father that I would ensure the logistics of the army, but - maybe ......"

Doubts, this should not be revealed, especially to the supreme commander of a fleet. Berenga decided to give her young boss a little stimulation:

"We've just wiped out a Norman family, and those lords won't forget that, so maybe we should go back for safety?"

Return? Go back and admit defeat to your father? Nail the last nail in his coffin? Unthinkable!

Like a scorpion that has risen up, Harding is as cold as a halberd, and categorically refuses: "No, let's go to Dieppe!" ”

Approach Rouen and continue to threaten from the sea until the Norman lords who are so fierce and introverted obediently cooperate.

They did not know at this time that the people who could influence Rouen were not within the city walls.

"When is William Lufus going to send troops?" Philip's tone revealed the majesty of a natural king.

These Normans finally understood that we were the keel and rudder of this struggle.

Bishop Geoffrey was this time very humble, he was not wearing any weapons, his sideburns were not as unkempt as the last time, and the bishop's shawl hung naturally from the top of his long arms, all according to the Frankish etiquette: Philip had had enough of Norman diplomacy.

"Your Majesty, the Norman knights have assembled in Caen, three hundred iron horses, ready to be summoned by Your Majesty."

Norman knights, those monstrous warriors with black-ringed iron armor and metal armor? The descendants of the northern pagans who broke the backs of the previous kings?

Philip's chest swelled with crazy killing intent, why did this people show the claws of the beast even when they bowed their heads?

He noticed that the Norman bishop was looking at his soft neck, as if to see where it would be easier to get the knife.

Perhaps, it would be better to murder that Lufus together.

Suddenly, he was stunned at how easily he thought of murder—murder was a habit, like using marijuana and opium.

The speed of the emissaries through the wind and snow may not be slow, but the formation of large armies is much slower, and it takes a lot of material resources to move such an army from one side of the icy hills and rivers to the other.

When the Frankish army finally began to move, strong winds almost followed, and the king's ambition drove the army, but the southern flower knights were obviously quite uncomfortable with such a march, and some of them were still shivering with cold in two or three layers of blankets. Fortunately, they accounted for only a very small part of the army, and most of them were nobles and servants who were invited north by the king to attend Christmas Mass when the autumn breeze rose.

The snow in the wilderness sometimes reaches the heads of some children, and when camping, soldiers who do not stand guard gather around the fire to dry their robes as best they can, and the square towers of distant castles are draped in white cloaks, and when they get closer, the soldiers often find that the moats are frozen thick like frozen glaciers that have frozen for centuries.

Exhausted and hoarded, marching on long supply lines during the hibernation season, the king's generals, including the king's brother Huge, began to feel like a suicide, with long rutted marks on the surface of the road like a noose.

It wasn't until the winter fell again on the western hills, and some of the hallucinating people insisted that they had seen the black dome of the church of Rouen from the twilight, that a courier brought information that had changed the morale of the army.

The English fled!

Victory seemed to be behind the dome of the fabled church, and the glory of defeating the Earl of Pembroke and robbing the body of the King of England became the hottest bonfire of this sleepless winter night.

Philip was more excited than anyone else, because he knew that the enemy could not escape the cage. What he didn't know was that a month earlier, the Count of Flanders had enjoyed the same joy as him - fate was indeed a capricious bitch.

In any case, a gambler who is sure to win will never stop, not to mention that the Norman envoy who brought the good news also gave the French king another surprise, this secret information almost sealed the victory of the Franks.

"Throw away the baggage and go full speed!" At daybreak, Philip gave new orders to the morale-boosting lords and soldiers.

The day also became warmer, and there was almost a taste of lust in the soft sunlight, and the battlements of the city wall soon came into view, and on the inside of the old wall, which had been destroyed by Roger of Hereford, a new frozen wall rising thirty feet high, towered majestically. Outside Rouen, the large French army finally joined up with William Luffs' Norman army.

A quarrel ensued, with William Lufus insisting that the city should be conquered first, claiming to know everything about the fortress.

"I was able to walk from the eastern section of the battlement wall of Rouen to the northern section with my eyes closed, and there was not a single cellar or warehouse that I did not know ......"

Philip saw through the Normans' intentions at a glance, but he had not yet decided how to use the brothers Luforth and Robert.

"Our worst enemy is the Anglos, you should know that......"

The only reason we were able to unite was because you sent half of your men to England.

Robert was now looking down from the platform, the Frankish army was stronger than the British army that had been hastily withdrawn not long ago, and beside him, his uncle Otto was pale, and he did not say a word.

Are they all blaming me?

Robert could feel the oppression of these lords, especially the fact that he was the shortest, almost like a child in front of these huge vassals.

He set his sights on his teacher, Dean LongFrank.

Are you blaming me too?

The furrows on LongFrank's face were filled with tears.