“Here's another one of those suits.” White flicked on the torch and played the beam across the armour.
“I wouldn't have liked to be him.” Peters stepped closer. “There are a dozen wounds in this one, almost as if he was peppered with gunshot. There's no way he could have survived this many injuries.”
“You wore one of these suits and thought you were invulnerable.” White rapped on the breastplate with his knuckles. “Then you find you're up against a sixty-pound crossbow or a horseman with a lance and it lights out before you even get a chance to swing your sword.”
“Perhaps they're animated suits that defend the house in times of trouble.” Peters lifted the visor. “Hello in there. Anybody home?”
“That was a Disney film.” White looked at him. “You don't have any children, do you Peters?”