Neigh-igh-igh, fellow horse-lovers! Emma here, your trusty grey mare, reporting live from Hayfield, a wee village nestled in the heart of Scotland. It’s a crisp January morning and the air is sharp with the scent of peat smoke and damp earth. The ground is still frozen, making a welcome change to the muck and mud of last year's autumn, and my coat gleams with the sparkle of the morning sun.
It's the year 135 and things have changed a bit since my ancestors first arrived in this land, and boy oh boy, has our world been a-flutter! You know how much we horses love routine. We thrive on knowing what to expect, whether it’s the feel of the harness on our shoulders, the familiar clink of the bit against our teeth, or the steady rhythm of the plow through the soil. But things are…different now. And by “different”, I mean exhilarating!
Today, for instance, I’m not being called to haul logs or drag the plow. Instead, I'm getting prepped for a long ride to the bustling town of Aberdeen, about 25 miles from here. I haven't seen it in a few months and word on the hoof is that the market there has been booming lately. I hear there are stalls crammed with everything from finely crafted saddles to exotic spices that are shipped in from the far-off lands across the seas. Exciting stuff!
As for the people in the market – the ones I really enjoy observing, even if their language sometimes makes me want to stomp my feet – I hear there have been lots of changes there, too. We horses have played a significant role in many of those changes. Can you believe it’s only been around a century since the horse first took to the roads, drawing wagons instead of carts pulled by oxen? It feels like a whole other age now!
Anyway, my Master Thomas has told me about these great advancements in carriage making, which make riding much smoother and faster than in the old days. You should see these carriages with their padded seats and suspension systems – pure luxury! I imagine it’s quite an enjoyable ride, though perhaps a tad slow for my tastes. It seems people these days love the finer things in life and horses have taken to the carriage trade with all four hooves. You know, sometimes I think I’d enjoy pulling a carriage. I’ve heard some say there's more dignity to it than plodding along, hunched under the weight of a load of hay.
And then there are the war horses. They've become quite the subject of conversation here at Hayfield. You wouldn’t believe how much fuss is being made about them. My young cousin, Dappleday, dreams of becoming a war horse. She watches all the men, even the older ones with stiff joints, practicing with swords and spears. She’s not allowed near the battlefield, of course, but Dappleday’s mind races with visions of grand battles, bravely charging into enemy ranks.
Well, you wouldn’t find me anywhere near a battle, not if I could help it. I don't fancy being pierced with a sharp spear or trampled by another horse. I do know my brother, Coal, served in a past war. It made him a bit wary around unfamiliar sounds and he’d flinch at the clanging of metal. Thankfully, he’s come a long way since then. He has a gentle soul, despite his time in war. It makes you realise how deeply affected they all are, those who see battles up close. It’s not just the horses, but the people who suffer too. The weight of their grief and the nightmares they bear leave deep scars.
There’s something else that is making a splash here – not a literal splash, thankfully. You’ve all heard about the terrible black death, haven’t you? It has swept across the continent in recent years. So many families have lost loved ones to its awful grip, including those who lived and worked alongside our horses. It's a painful memory that many still try to avoid, but even here in the Scottish Highlands, the echo of that plague still resonates.
However, what we also find ourselves doing is learning, and learning hard. I've seen people making more of an effort to look after their horses, to understand what ails them. This is perhaps because they have lost so many during the plague, even those in this isolated place. We horses are survivors though. We know that if we keep our strength and spirit, we shall persevere. And, let’s not forget the new things people are learning, thanks to the work we horses are doing. It seems this learning and exploration will carry on as the world marches on.
In fact, these times, though uncertain, are an exciting age for our kind. All around us we see new discoveries and advancements. Some of it worries me. The men in Hayfield now speak of exploring further and further, making trade deals across the sea, and seeking wealth beyond our hills. That sounds like chaos to me. I’ve learned enough over the years to know that these expeditions don’t come without sacrifice. The journeys are fraught with danger. So much is unknown, but despite these uncertainties, our kind continues to be the vital thread, the lifeline, the silent hero.
Just today, we saw a stranger in town, a wandering horse merchant with an unusual tale. He had a tale to tell, about this special breed of horse in the east that can travel vast distances with remarkable speed. He said they can carry messages from village to village, spreading news far faster than anything known before. He calls them… coughed, a rather silly name: Post-Horses. I can’t imagine anything carrying messages, and so quickly too!
Then there is the talk about The Great Khan. This powerful warrior has a vast army of horses that are said to be fierce and unmatched in battle. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. It makes me wonder if perhaps all these advances will lead to more bloodshed and war. This uncertainty weighs on me more than the weight of any heavy cart.
Still, I am also filled with a deep sense of pride. As the horse, the bedrock of life in these times, I feel a strong sense of responsibility. I bear the burden, the weight of a history, on my back. I feel the pressure of generations who came before me and the responsibility I have towards the ones to come. We’re so vital, my brethren. We move goods, deliver news, we work the land, we pull the plows. Even now, I’m pulling Thomas' cart towards Aberdeen, excited to see what awaits.
For now, I need to focus on getting there in good health and getting my fill of barley. Then, maybe I’ll take a peek at those exciting carriages in the marketplace and try to get a good look at that stranger’s Post-Horse.
Stay safe, stay well, my equine friends! And may the good times keep rollin’.
Your grey friend,
Emma
