81
In a field on the north eastern edge of the Lost Forest, ten thousand bewildered men looked around themselves, blinking in the sunshine that shone here today but not in the Valley of the Dry Mile. Beneath about a third of them, horses tossed or shook their heads and sidled a few steps but beyond that, seemed either oblivious or accepting of the change. All of the men felt nauseated by the effects of the translocation. Surprisingly, very few of them had lost consciousness as Danton and his party had when they had been translocated to the Lost Forest, but they had an increased sense of disorientation, since they had no idea what had just happened to them.
As they began to feel better, muttered questions wandered through their ranks:
“Where is the king? Prince Tarkyn? Prince Jarand? The
