The next morning Brin and the rest of the Lance left the keep together to go find the Order’s stables. The stables were an oddly far distance away, nearly a quarter mile. After all, wouldn’t you want your horses to be close in case you needed to go somewhere in a hurry? But the ground near the keep was treacherous; odd stones popped up everywhere, and what looked like soft earth might have a sharp stone just under the surface.

    The stable wasn’t hard to recognize, either. It was a brand new construction, made of solid timber, with walls and a roof and everything. Apparently the Order didn’t think their knights or logistics staff needed anything special, but for their horses? Only the best.

    As they were approaching, they passed a group of knights leaving on horseback. They didn’t look much different than Brin’s Lance, except that they looked like real knights. It wasn’t just the fact that all of them wore powerfully enchanted armor like Cid and Hedrek. It was more the way they carried themselves. Back’s straight, confident, and synchronized in a way that was hard to put his finger on. Would Brin’s Lance look like that someday, or were these guys winners from the beginning?

    Brin saw an older knight, and from the way he stood watching them expectantly, it was clear that he was waiting for them.

    Name: Derec Cronby

    Level: 45

    Class: Horse Master

    Derec wore no helmet and the bare minimum of acceptable armor. A breastplate, a strip of metal on his forearms, and an attempt at plates on the outside of his thighs. All the rest of his outfit was old, worn leather.

    Brin whispered to Cid, using sound magic to make sure no one else could hear, “Who’s that? I thought Hedrek was going to show us the ropes.”

    “Hedrek declined,” Cid whispered back.

    Brin frowned but left it there for now.

    “Good, gather ‘round young sirs, that’s the way. My name’s Derec and I serve under Sir Gamwyff in the Order of the Long Sleep twenty-first Lance.”

    “What’s our Lance?” Brin asked Cid.

    “The fifty-first. Now hush,” Cid whispered back.

    Derec was difficult to understand, since he spoke with a strong accent. It wasn’t the accent of another language, as far as Brin could tell, but more likely the accent of some place very rural and remote. “As your Lance doesn’t have a [Horse Master], your Prime asked me to show you a thing or two. Now, let’s get off on the right foot here. The Order seeks equality between its knights, so just because I’m older than you, and higher level, and a good deal handsomer, and unlike you I know the difference between my butt and a hole in the wall, that don’t mean that you have to do what I say. But, since I’m going to be leading this little demonstration, I expect you all to do what I say, when I say it, with no exceptions. Is that understood?”

    Most of the Lance answered in the affirmative, but Hedrek looked away and said nothing, and Derec noticed. “Your Prime can maintain order in his Lance as he desires, that’s fine, but if [Stablemaster] Yrgryd starts to feel like aren’t treating his babies right, you’ll be doing a lot of walking, I’ll tell you that much.”

    “Understood, sir Derec,” Hedreck said.

    “Good. Alright, then.” Derec whistled, and moments later a line of eleven warhorses trotted out of the stable. They moved in a perfect line as if they were being led, but Derec made no sign to guide them except for that first whistle.

    The horses moved to stand in a line in front of the knights, facing them. A few twitched their ears, some of them shook their heads, and one stomped on the ground a few times, but they stayed in position. These horses were insanely well trained.

    They were also big. Bigger than animals should be, sort of in the uncanny valley because you expected an animal that large to be dull and plodding, but they seemed sharp-eyed and full of energy. It confused Brin half a second why there were eleven horses instead of ten, until one of them walked over to stand next to Derec. The rest stayed facing the men.

    It was a bit intimidating, seeing them all lined up like. [Inspect] told them that their average level was 20, and they had virtue names like “Justice”, “Generous”, and “Mercy.”

    Marksi had decided to come along, and he jumped down from Brin’s shoulders to dart towards the horses. He charged at them, then backed up at the last second, making quick, sudden movements to try to spook them.

    The horses barely noticed, but Derec said, “You can get lost if that’s what you want to pull.” The words ‘get lost’ had the weight of a Skill behind them, and Marksi hissed before doing what Derec suggested and fleeing out of sight.

    Brin sighed. He’d been worried about this. Was Marksi worried that he was being replaced? He’d have to explain things to him later. Marksi should never be worried about being replaced by a pet, because Marksi was not a pet. He was family.

    Derec rubbed his hands together and looked back and forth between the horses and the knights.

    “Let’s see here. Hm. I think sir Govannon, I’ll put you with Mercy. Sir Meredydd, you’ll take Generous. Sir Brych, Faith...” Brin still couldn’t get used to complete strangers knowing his name no matter how long he spent in this world. If people introduced each other it was just a formality, because with [Inspect], everyone knew everyone’s names. “Sir Anwir, Courage. Sir Hedrek, Justice. Sir Brin, Nobility. And that leaves Humility for you, Sir Gurthcid.”

    Of all the horses, only Humility really looked like he matched his namesake. Cid’s horse was sad-eyed and swaybacked. Nothing like the excellent black stallion that Derec had assigned to Brin.

    Brin, Cid, and the [Page], Govannon, started forward immediately, while the others hung back a little to see what they’d do. Brin had gone horseback riding maybe three times in his life, but he knew the basics. He moved slowly, avoiding any sudden movements, and when Nobility seemed comfortable, he brought his hand up for the horse to sniff.

    The ride was fun; that was the only word for it. Once, when they crested a slight hill, and they looked down over a vast, fantasy world, Brin was overcome with an intense sense of gratitude. During his darkest moments, could he ever have predicted that he’d end up here? That he’d be this guy? He was a knight in shining armor atop a mighty steed in a beautiful and magical world. He was here. This was real. He didn''t always love [Know What''s Real] for stripping away his illusions, but now he was grateful.

    After the ride Derec had them all skip lunch in favor of learning how to feed, groom, and brush their horses. When they finished, Cid advised them all to seriously consider taking the [Riding] general Skill, and Brin was almost totally persuaded.

    Lumina had [Riding], and he’d always thought of that as a funny little eccentricity, but now he saw it was a solid, practical choice. When Lumina needed to get somewhere, she needed to get there fast. If a Skill like [Riding] could eke even a few minutes off of a long, cross-country trip, then it could possibly save lives. How many people would’ve died if she’d gotten to Hammon’s Bog five minutes later that one time?

    He didn’t need it today, though. Skills took a while to ramp up, anyway, and he didn''t want to use the point before asking Lumina''s advice. He’d include the question in his next letter to her and see if she recommended it.

    The day of riding gave him something else, though.

    Through training, you have earned the following attribute:

    Dexterity +1

    He didn’t feel like he’d done a really difficult Dexterity training, so he assumed the System had given it to him for learning something new.

    They had a very, very late lunch next, and it was clear that Cid had arranged things because the serving staff gave Brin a double portion without even needing to be asked. Marksi found them at lunchtime and wanted to eat off Brin’s plate, so Brin got up and fetched a meal for him. It’s not that he really minded sharing with Marksi, but the dragonling was growing up and he could really pack it away when he wanted. And now, so could Brin.

    Cid asked Brin to lead the Lance in Strength training, and Brin was all too delighted to comply. Since the kettlebells had been such a success the day before, he had them do that again. This time, feeling like he was less likely to be challenged to a duel, he made a much bigger one for himself and Hedrek so that he could actually get a workout, too.

    Cid declined when Brin offered a bigger one for him, but he did say that he’d take one eventually when his command was on a stronger footing.

    To everyone’s delight, Marksi joined in too, and instead of the cute, little useless motions he used to make, he seemed determined this time to actually work as hard as everyone else. Maybe it was to make up for running away from Derec so easily, but he actually put in a good effort.

    The Lance was so amused by that they forgot to be their usual grumpy selves, but that only lasted for about forty-five minutes. After that, the normal grunts and complaints started, and a half hour after that, they started to take on a more defiant tone. Brych especially sounded like he’d refuse if Brin told him to do a single squat more. Brin switched it up and turned it into a competition, telling them to do however many they wanted, but that whoever did the most lunge squats in a row would be “today’s strongest”, a title which would entitle them to exactly zero extra privileges. Naturally they all had to have it.

    Rhun ended up winning, but only because Cid disqualified himself and Brin had made his own kettlebell so heavy. The [Warrior] had even claimed that he’d gotten an Achievement out of it, and refused to tell anyone what it was. Brin didn’t think he’d ever have trouble motivating the men during workouts again. Many of them also got a point or two, which always helped. Even Brin got one.

    Through training, you have earned the following attribute:

    Strength +1

    They bathed, dressed, and then right before dinner Cid once again risked Brin’s life by pulling him to the side before he could eat.

    “We talk after, yes?”

    Cid pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please abandon the accent when we’re alone; I know it’s fake.”

    “Is fake, but also is fun!” said Brin.

    Cid frowned.

    “Alright. Fine, we’ll talk now. You have to do something about Hedrek.”

    Cid winced. “I know.”

    “Tell him off, or let me tell him off. We can’t go on like this,” said Brin.

    “I don’t think that would help. I’ll talk to him. I will. But I’ve seen a dozen men chew him out and it doesn’t work. We should try a different tack. I think that with a little bit of responsibility, he would rise to the occasion.”

    Hadn’t Cid tried that with horsemanship, and Hedrek had straight-up refused? Brin shook his head. “Fine, we’ll put him in charge of something. Tomorrow, he’ll lead us in something. What are we doing tomorrow, anyway?”

    “We’ll have to think of something for the day after. Tomorrow is our day off. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like to hit the town.”