As soon as he entered Paris, Robert de Conteville, Count of Mortan, had to endure the never-ending criticism of the fashion of the capital by Bishop Geoffrey de Montbred of Codons, a newfound religious fervor that became more and more pious as the Norman nobleman grew older, and this newfound religious fervor had reached a point that was unbearable for Morten.

"Well, stop complaining, and don't forget our mission, ...... Lufuss," the Count finally interrupted the long sermon.

"William Lufus is also corrupting, his hair is curled like a woman's, and the placket of his robe can be dragged to the ground! The awe-inspiring atmosphere of our ancestors...... "Bishop Jeffrey still doesn't want to give up."

"Our ancestors were slewd pigs!" Count Robert raised his voice, "War is coming, and if we don't succeed, that little Wessex bastard will turn the Norman land into a slaughterhouse, and our heads will all be stuck in our own castles!" ”

The two old lords quarreled and came to the Old Merovingian Palace on the Île de la Cité, where they met King Philip's party. The king of the Franks rode a horse covered with iron armor covered with a silk horse blanket.

"My lords, you're finally here!" Philip's interest was high, "How is my horse?" Did William Luforth have such a mount? ”

"Your Majesty, this is a beautiful mare, it's just that we Normans are not in vogue to dress up their mothers with beautiful silks, we are better at fighting on stallions." Bishop Jeffrey replied proudly.

"Ha, my brother, do you hear me? His Excellency Bishop Codons is complaining that we Franks only dress up as mares. Philip smiled back at the Count of Vimanduis, who looked rich and wealthy in a ferret fur and a gold and silver ribbon over his shoulders.

"Your Majesty, my lordship, please forgive the Normans for being blunt." The Earl of Mortan first bowed his head to Count Hugue, and then said, "We have come to Your Majesty from Caen solely because your province has been invaded. ”

"How convenient, since my father's time, you have asked for help from the throne in this way, and as soon as the situation is in the duke's favor, you will immediately rebel against the throne. Tell me, my lords, does the throne owe anything to the principality? ”

"The king must bestow, Your Majesty." Mortan replied without showing any weakness, "We Normans are only servants of the throne, guarding the frontier for Your Majesty. But now the Normans alone are not enough to defend Your Majesty, Edgar of England has drawn his sword, and now you must fight to give hope to all the vassals who follow the Golden Flame (Oriflamme)! ”

"Enough!" Without warning, Philip lashed out, "Don't forget, Lufus isn't a duke yet, and if he can't stop my cousin Edgar, then the throne can be given or taken back." ”

With that, the angry King turned his horse's head and left the two Norman lords in front of the palace.

"Your Majesty, you really don't plan to save Lufus? In this way, we will lose Normandy. Count Huger, the royal brother who followed Philip, couldn't help but ask, over the years, Philip had nearly doubled the royal territory without moving a single soldier, and all kinds of dazzling diplomatic skills made Huge admire abnormally, and he felt that it was impossible for his brother to see the situation in front of him clearly. What's more, if it wasn't for the purpose of mobilizing troops, why gather the Southern Territories and their own armies?

"You're saying something wrong." Philip replied in a low voice, "William Lufus is not a duke, and keeping the duchy is not the same as rescuing Lufus. ”

"But Robert has taken refuge in the English, hasn't he?"

"We'll control him, Edgar can't give him, only we can give it." Philip smiled as if the brothers Robert and William were pawns.

Only the king can be a chess player, otherwise everything is meaningless.

The tidal flats and hills are like the scars of the earth, pus flows from the junction of red and green, and the rocks on the beach are like a city, allowing the white waves to wash under their feet. The Earl of Lincoln's Anglos and Danes were deliberately far away from the direction of the coast, and only the Welsh marched unconcernedly, unaware of the dark magic hidden in the sound of the waves, and the mighty sea witches could leap out from under every white wave.

The Welsh song echoed over and over again, and this people had a unique ability to hide in the darkest corners of the peaceful years to dry their sheep, and when the season came, they would enter the other side of the Offa Causeway in flocks, kill and plunder cattle like thieves, and then sing the praises of such "great" deeds with the most beautiful music!

In the vicinity of these free Celtic peoples, the knights of Count Rodrigo were speeding forward, and the sea water in the wind was rushing like a rain of rain, and the knights were tightly wrapped in fur, piercing through the layers of "rain curtains".

"Hell, that Spaniard's honor will eventually kill us." The Earl of Lincoln grumbled the back of his neck and grumbled that his men were marching in the middle of a stretch of sand dunes, and from time to time they let out a mighty battle cry, but the undulating terrain still made his mood terrible.

Peterbrough's infantry were the first to climb the front ridge, and the sun seemed to hang between the two incisors-shaped hills, from which a decaying Flemish fortress emerged, which would take at least half a day to reach through the winding dunes and moors, and another half to establish a siege position, giving them less than a day to prepare for the army of the Count of Flanders, who, according to Lord Rodrigo's instructions, was bound to come.

"This is the nearest port fortress on the Flemish coast, and Robert of Flanders will not allow us to occupy this place, and then land in a steady stream behind his main forces."

Rodrigo explained to the great lords that the Peterborough people did not need such instructions, they believed in Lord Martin, and Lord Martin believed in the Count, and that was enough.

Unlike the Welsh, the Anglo-Saxons mostly marched on bumpy horses, a tradition in the kingdom, but these Saine and Yenniat would not have been able to have such robust precious animals without the introduction of Hungarian ponies, Flemish and Castilian heavy horses, and the improvement of the breeds of English pack horses and war horses.

Thousands of horses' hooves rumbled and slammed into the grass and sand, and the knights' pack horses carried packs of armor on their backs as they pushed forward.

Louder and louder, closer and closer, before sunset, crush the fortress!

Rodrigo's eyes were filled with waterfall-like detail: horses slipping on the beach, corpses rushing to shore......