Getting their horses back was just as much of a hassle as Cid expected, made worse by the fact that exposure to Eveladis meant that Brin hadn't actually kept an Invisible Eye watching them. As soon as the alchemical light faded Brin sent out a bunch of Invisible Eyes to look for them, but they seemed to have completely disappeared.

Cid talked to the hundred-man commander who'd drafted their Lance for the battle, and was directed to a stable worker who'd seen the horses last. The stable worker told them that pages from the Order of the Luminous Serpent had taken them to be fed and rested. When they found the impromptu corral of the Order of the Luminous Serpent, set up just behind the front lines, they found the saddles and armor, but no horses. Apparently, they'd been stripped so that they could be brushed and checked for injury, but now there was no sign of the horses themselves.

Marksi's nose ended up making the difference, and the little dragon led the Lance to the middle of nowhere, a mile behind the front lines, to where a guilty looking page was letting them graze on a rare bit of grassland that hadn't been burned or corrupted by the clashing armies.

Leading the horses back to their own camp, Brych said, "They would never. Right? An Order of [Knights] would never steal another Order's horses."

"Of course not. But they might 'accidentally' find some horses that another Order left laying around," said Govannon.

"That's the same as stealing," said Brych.

"You would know."

Cid cleared his throat. "No Order would ever steal from another Order. Which is why it would be impossible to ever accuse someone of doing that; it would cast an entire Order's honor into question. This would cause a rift, one that we could ill afford."

"So you're saying he's right. They really would have taken them," said Brych. "Would... would we do something like that?"

"Never," said Cid. "That isn't the lesson to be learned here. The lesson to be learned is that we shouldn't let these animals out of our sight. It's best if we avoid any situations that may lead to misunderstandings. We can ill afford any more disunity."

That was an understatement. Brin's [Battle Sense] wasn't infallible because it didn't account for Brin's own lack of information, but he was fairly certain that the allies were a complete mess. They still fought as a dozen separate bands rather than a cohesive army. It had been fine when they'd only been inching along with no real resistance, but when something unexpected happened the response was chaotic. How many more of those axemen would have survived if the heavy infantry unit right next to them had acted rather than holding position? They should've folded them into their ranks right from the beginning rather than waiting for a slaughter to prod them into action. And that was just in Brin's little corner of the battle. The armies had plenty of people with leadership Classes, but no real leaders.

Tired as he was, fuming over the entire situation gave him plenty of energy for the walk back to camp.

When they returned to their tent, they found it completely empty. Despite living in a tent, they still had servants who handled menial chores and helped them dress or remove their armor. At least, normally they did. With the plague rampaging through the camps, Brin assumed a lot of labor had been reassigned.

Exhausted, the men threw their armor and dirty clothes on the ground before collapsing into their bedrolls. Brin noticed Cowl pausing in place, clearly considering tidying up a little. Instead, he shucked his own armor off, and collapsed into bed like everyone else. He glanced at Cid, who gave a slight nod of approval.

It looked like Cid had already had a conversation with Cowl about his tendency to act like a servant instead of a knight-at-arms. Every time Brin turned around, he found that his Prime had already done something that Brin had only been meaning to do. It was a nice feeling.

The next morning, Cowl made a point to stay in his bedroll until after every other single member of the Lance was already up, and when they went to the training grounds, he followed them as if that was his normal habit.

When they got there, no one jumped straight into practice or exercise. Though their illness was much reduced, they were all still feeling the effects of it and they'd probably only come here to gossip with other knights and try to find out what was going on at the front.

Not that Brin minded. He was curious about that, too. He was a little surprised that they hadn't been called back into action; he knew how desperate the fighting was right now, but they'd been given the day off.

"I have something to say," said Cowl.

"I hope this is what I think it is," said Cid.

Cowl nodded, his face blank as always but still looking rather pleased somehow. "I reached [Knight]. I am a [Knight of Burdens], to be exact."

The men gave a hearty cheer, and Hedrek clapped Cowl on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward, but he never lost the quasi-smile.

"Oh, thank Solia! I did as well. I'm a [Knight of Arrows]," said Anwir. "I didn't want to say I reached it when you didn't. It was the two of us leading the charge yesterday that did it, I'd wager."

"I think the same," said Cowl.

"Wait. We're all [Knights] now!" said Brych.

"Everyone that matters," said Govannon, and Brin punched him in the shoulder, which made him laugh.

"Congratulations. You've become the most frightfully unbalanced Lance I've ever heard of," said Cid, with a proud expression that belied any sting the words might have carried.

It reminded Brin that he might've been being lazy about his role as a Second, though. He scowled and said, "He's right. We still don't have an anti-armor specialist. And Meredydd, did you even bring your lance to the front yesterday?"

"I... there wasn't time!" Meredydd spluttered.

"To say nothing about our lack of anti-armor. Anwir, how is the [Knight] Class going to work with arrows, anyway? Can you use a bow with [Knight's Charge]?" asked Brin.

"I don't know," said Anwir.

"Then don't you think you should find out? Maybe your arrows will pierce armor, since no one else is doing that. Cowl, what new capabilities can you bring us?" asked Brin.

Cowl, for one, was ready to account for himself. "My biggest upgrade is to my carrying Skill. It now applies to weapons and armor that I'm using, not merely items that I'm carrying for storage."

"What?" Brin's eyes widened in shock that he didn't have to fake. "We need to get you to Kartoff. Now!"

Cid nodded. "I'd like to be there for that. Sadly, I'll need to leave you here to go make our report. Brin, could I borrow your spear?"

"Sure," Brin said. "And now, you'll never hear me complain about this, but what our Lance really needs is someone who deals with armor. Some kind of anti-armor specialist, if you will."

Govannon sighed melodramatically. "I'll start putting more effort into axes."

"Thank you," said Brin. "Anwir, you should come with us as well."

"Why? The bow I got from the Prima assassin is still better than anything the Order has offered me," said Anwir.

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Brin frowned, not really liking the reminder that a powerful stealth archer with a grudge against him was still at large. "That means you're due for something. Maybe we can convince Kartoff to give you a better sidearm," said Brin.

"I don't need a better sidearm," Anwir protested.

"Might I come along as well?" asked Meredydd.

"If you want," said Brin. He really wanted to press Anwir about his reluctance to use melee, but Meredydd's interruption made that awkward, and besides, what was he supposed to say? "Let's go."

It was a short walk to Kartoff's tent, and Brin found the place completely transformed. Where before, the entire space had been filled with crates and piles of weapons, now it was practically empty with only a few weapon racks and storage containers. Also, where before Kartoff had been busy and stressed, now he just looked bored. He jumped to his feet from a writing desk when Brin arrived and said, "Oh, sir Brin. How is that shield working for you?"

"It's magical. That's the only way to describe it. It's exactly what I needed."

"Good! Normally, I'd offer to make adjustments or small enhancements now that you've had some use from it, but in your case I'm not sure what I can offer."

Brin showed off his control of glass and shifted the weapon from a shield to an axe, then a sword, then a spear, and then back to a shield. "It's already perfect. No, I'm not here for me."

Kartoff's eyes flicked between Meredydd, Cowl, and Anwir. "Ah. Well, if it's new weapons you're after, I'm not sure how much help I can be. My last requisition for materials hasn't come through, and the [Enchanters] are saying the same thing. I've given most everything away already."

"I'm not sure I need anything anyway," said Anwir.

"You do!" said Brin. "The bow he's using is something we picked up from an enemy. He deserves a weapon provided by the Order. I was thinking of an arming sword for when he's forced to fight up close."

Kartoff's eyes lit up and he said, "Believe it or not, I think I might have something for you. He shuffled over to a long leather bag on the side of the tent and flipped open a satchel. Inside were long metal poles, each about as thick around a penny's diameter. He pulled one out and handed it to Anwir. "These are intended for Gauldim of Vascor himself, but he can spare just one."

The metal pole was pointed at one end, and the other side had little stabilizing fins at the end, also made of the same kind of magical steel as the rest of it. It was an arrow, Brin realized, but bigger and heavier than any he'd ever seen. It was practically a ballista bolt.

"I'm not sure I could fire this very far," said Anwir, though Brin could tell he was immediately taken with it. He ran his hand down the shaft, and then put it up to his eye to check that it was perfectly straight.

"No, but you're not a [Knight of Bows], are you? This is an arrow, and even in your hands I think it'll draw on some of your best Skills," said Kartoff.

Anwir's eyes went wide with realization and he shifted the grip to hold it like a sword. He made a few practice thrusts in the air. "I think this may work." He looked at Brin. "Unexpectedly, you may have been right this time."

"Oh, wow, thank you so much," Brin said sarcastically.

"May I have leave to go practice with this?" Anwir said, missing Brin's tone entirely.

Brin waved him off, and then said to Kartoff, "I'm mostly here about Cowl, our [Knight of Burdens]. What would you suggest for someone who can completely negate his weapon's weight."

"Not completely," said Cowl.

Kartoff said, "[Carry]? You evolved it to [Carry Arms]?"

"No, [Carry Burdens]. But it will do the same," said Cowl. "Here."

Cowl adjusted his [Hide Status] and now one of his base Skills was visible to [Inspect].

Carry Burdens [41]

Cowl can carry objects or goods as if they only weighed a fraction as much. This is extended to equipped weapons, armor, and clothing. Cowl can carry other burdens, such as illness, exhaustion, hunger, or even grief. This Skill has been upgraded twice.

"Whoa! What? What's that second part? You can absorb other people's illness?" asked Brin.

"I was instructed not to, by sir Crost."

"Oh, no I wouldn't have asked you to," said Brin, waving in denial.

"If I tried to take the whole army's sickness, I would've died quickly and then it would've returned to them," said Cowl.

"Like I said, no one is asking you to do that," said Brin.

"It looks like it'll do for weapons. Wait here," said Kartoff.

They waited. Kartoff left the tent and returned a few minutes later with a ludicrously massive black maul. "The one thing I'm not short on right now is blacksteel. We got this from one of those big armored bastards."

The weapon was too big, that's all there was to say about it. The shaft was five feet long and so wide around that Cowl couldn't close his fingers all the way around it. And the shaft looked small in comparison to the massive axe head. It had a long wedge blade on one side and a flat hammer on the other. It was blocky and dull, and primitive looking. It was difficult to make blacksteel look good, since it had to be cast instead of forged, and it wasn't a popular choice for weapons because even though it was stronger than anything in that price range, it was also ludicrously heavy. For most, the sheer weight was a disqualifier. For Cowl, that's what made it perfect.

Cowl turned the massive weapon in a circle and then started through few simple cuts. He could start and stop as quickly as if the thing were made of styrofoam, but Brin could feel the weight of it in the air.

"Don't!" Kartoff sighed when Cowl paused. "Not in here, please. You'll want to practice that away from others. It's likely to fly out of your hands a few times before you get used to the grip."

"Sorry, sir," said Cowl.

"Hm," said Kartoff.

Cowl looked down at maul again, a look of intense satisfaction on his normally blank face.

"Oh, go on and play with your new toy," said Brin, and Cowl wasted no time leaving the tent. He turned to Meredydd. "Now what were you hoping to get out of this?"

"Ideas, I guess?" Meredydd shrugged, looking suddenly anxious. "I don't have [Blade Mastery]. As a [Knight at Arms] I have a baseline understanding of how to use any weapon, and the rest comes through training."

"So you're thinking, why are you using a sword when you'll never match up to the regular [Knights] with it," finished Kartoff.

"Exactly," said Meredydd. "Even if all you had were normal steel weapons, maybe if I carried a bunch of options around, I could, I don't know, match the situation. If Cowl would be willing to... oh, he's gone."

Brin thought for a second, then looked down at his morphic shield. He shifted it to a sword and then a scythe, demonstrating how easy it was for him. "What you really need is something like this. Maybe it would be better in your hands. We'd have to think of a way for you to signal what you want it to shift into..."

Kartoff shook his head. "It wouldn't be worth nearly as much in his hands. You're underestimating how much your magic affects the glass you use. You have an intrinsic connection that starts working on it before you even use any mana. In anyone else's hands, your powerful glass weapons are little better than stone clubs."

"So a little bit of this and a little bit of that?" asked Meredydd hopefully.

"Are you really going to carry five different weapons around on your back everywhere you go? Because I don't think you'll always have time for your Lancemate to pull the exact right tool out of his backpack," said Kartoff. "No, I think I have a better idea."

He shuffled around in one of his few remaining crates before pulling out a polearm with a long hooked blade on the end. A scythe? Brin had seen a few men on the front using scythe-bladed polearms. They worked pretty well because if you worked it correctly then you forced your enemy to look behind in order to dodge or block it. He'd never seen anyone use one in a one-on-one duel. And the pole was only about six and a half feet long, which meant that it wouldn't even work very well as a polearm.

"That... looks dumb, if I'm being honest," Brin said. It wasn't like Kartoff was giving out charity here, they were owed weapons due to their status as knights-at-arms in the Order. He didn't like the idea that Kartoff was handing out his trash, even though Cowl and Anwir seemed satisfied with what they got.

Kartoff smirked and handed the scythe to Meredydd, and the [Knight of Arms] seemed to know instinctively how to move it. He spun it around, slowly, the way he would a quarterstaff and then paused feeling its weight. He grinned. "No way." He clicked a hidden button on the side, and the scythe blade popped off the shaft to plunk onto the floor, connected by a length of chain.

"It gets worse," said Brin.

Meredydd, still smiling, twisted the middle of the pole and it separated. These two parts as well were connected by a chain, hidden inside the shaft. All spread out, Meredydd could hold the middle part of the pole, and swing around the other two pieces on either side. They couldn't see the exact length of the chain in the tent, but Brin thought there were some spacial enchantments in effect, because it seemed like there was more chain than should fit in the hollow shaft.

"It's a chain hook... type thing," said Mereydd.

"It's ridiculous. Silly," said Brin. There had to be a reason people didn't use chain hooks in real life, right? Then he relented to the clear excitement in Meredydd's eyes. "...and completely perfect for you."

Meredydd laughed. "I can't say I disagree."

Looking closer, Brin got that tingly feeling that told him he was near magical power. This weapon might not be very practical, but it certainly wasn't cheap. There were more enchantments on it than just the spacial effect with the chain. Suddenly, he was very pressed with the urge to see what else this thing could do.

He shook Kartoff's hand and thanked him, but already his mind was back in the training grounds. Kartoff could tell. "Oh, go on then. But first, understand that I now consider your Lance well-outfitted. I don't expect you'll need to visit Meaty or I again until you need adjustments, repairs, or you've accrued more merit for the Order."

"I understand, thank you," said Brin, already turning away.

"But do send sir Cowl to Meaty when you get the chance," said Kartoff.

"I will, and thank you, sir," said Brin.

"...and one more thing."

Brin turned back around to face Kartoff. Kartoff laughed and said, "Joking. Off you go."

Brin was out the tent flap before he could be stopped again. "Come," he said to Meredydd. "We don’t know how long we have until we’re pulled back to the front. Let's see what that thing can do."