The knights came in a tight wedge, shields overlapping, and blades level, a formation I would have respected if I had not spent the last three months being drunk by a demon and was, consequently, in no mood.
I counted them. Forty-seven. A respectable number for a guard detail. But they were just knights. Armored humans with swords and shields.
The fox on my shoulder tilted its head. "They're not very lively, are they?"
"Lively? They look lively enough to me."
"Look at them, Elric, they move like they're following a script," she said. "Like they're not making decisions. Just... executing. I have seen your memories; even trained men are not supposed to move like this."
I did not have time to ponder her words; besides, I had not seen enough of the world for the fox to draw a compelling reference from. This place made me uncomfortable, and I wanted to leave.
