“Is that all of them, do you suppose?” Handy blinked and turned again, finding himself absolutely surrounded by… other humans. A lot of them. There was practically an army of them, all standing in rows facing a single direction. The latest person to speak was what appeared, for all the world, a mediaeval knight. An actual one, complete with chainmail, black tabard with a white cross, hauberk, a French accent and an aged, grandfatherly, world-weary face that gave him a polite nod of acknowledgement.