There, at about forty meters high and on a tray of some hundred meters wide, extends a fortress even more formidable than those of Pevensey and Hastings. It is the army of king Harold of England, wall of thousands of shields arranged in several rows. Raised on his horse, our Duke Guillaume raises his stick of command. Diex ouch! He exclaims. To us, the Normans, to you, young person Arnoul, to face the fate! With Arnoul, young 15-year-old Norman, lover of his beautiful Mahaut, cross the sea together with thousands of men and with horses, towards England.