It is two days later, early in the morning - the sun is not yet up. You are all awoken by cries through the camp that the army will set sail today, and everything is required to be loaded by dawn. As you emerge from your tents you find the eastern sky is just starting to lighten, and there is a fresh breeze blowing from the north-west under a cloudless sky.
The wind picks up as you all hurriedly oversee the packing and loading, and by the time the sun is halfway over the horizon, you are in boats sailing in a brisk wind in the British Sea. The crossing is a little rough, with the boats leaning a little. There is a fair bit of chop, but it is following you which means the boats move up and down with a lazy sort of swelling rise and fall. You make fairly good time, and by noon you can see the shore approaching.
The fleet gets closer to the short, but holds off. Meanwhile, several small boats full of barefoot Irish mercenaries head to shore. You cannot see much from this far out, but not long after several plumes of smoke start rising and buildings are put to the torch. When that happens, several of your ships anchor, and foot troops are put ashore in smaller boats. Then the entire fleet weighs anchor, and sails east around a headland. On the other side, you spot what appears to be a small fishing village. The fleet anchors off the headland, and you spend the night bobbing on the water, hunkered down in your cloaks against the chill sea breeze. Meals are cold, and do little to ease the chill settling into your bones.
From Arne and Valka's perspective, this landing is chaotic. The British sailors seem more afraid of the sea and the weather than they are concerned with their sailing. Now, the British ships are fat and clunky, wallowing through the sea rather than slicing through it, but these sailors are nothing like the sailors of your people. If these are the best sailors King Uther has, there may be an opportunity there. Most of your people are far better sailors than even the best of these British ones, and a longship would sail circles around these fat British tubs. Had the fleet been outfitted properly, you could have run the whole fleet up onto the beach, instead of bobbing around like corks on the waves while they found a better landing site.
The night passed wet and miserable - a steady rain starts sometime after sundown and is still falling when the overcast skies start to lighten. The sailors spend much of their time pouring an uncomfortable amount of water over the side.
Finally, by mid-morning a signal fire can be seen on the shore, and ships of the fleet make their way in turns into the fishing village to unload. The foot soldiers go first, then knights and notables. It takes a full four days before any of you have your feet on solid ground, and your gear is soaked through as much of that time was spent under rain. By the time the supplies and horses and finally unloaded, your voyage has taken a week.
That first night, Sir Cedwyn is summoned to Earl Roderick.
"Sir Cedwyn. In the morning, the army will march south for Bayeaux. I want you to protect our western flank as we move. Get a good lay of the land, look for supplies we can capture, and pacify the populace. Take Sir Geoffrey with you, and my mercenary captains Valka and Arne. Cover ground, and make the presence of the British Army known. We do not expect any large forces in the field, but if you encounter one it is imperative you get word back to us as soon as possible. No unnecessary heroics. I expect you to be mounted and departing by sunrise."
