By Emma, A Grey Draught Mare
Hello, fellow equestrians! This month, we journey back in time to the year 0298. I, Emma, a proud grey draught mare with a flowing mane and tail of white, have been granted the pleasure of being your guide through this extraordinary year in equestrian history.
You see, dear readers, back then, life was quite different for a horse like me. Hayfield, my birthplace, wasn't just a field, but a small, thriving community nestled near the bustling city of Aberdeen in the north of Scotland. We horses were more than just companions; we were vital members of the village, pulling carts, working the fields, and even transporting goods on long journeys.
Life in Hayfield:
Every day, the crisp air of the Highlands filled my nostrils, a welcome change from the warm stable. My life was a routine, yet never dull. Dawn found me already at work, pulling the farmer's heavy plow through the fertile earth, the smell of rich soil clinging to my coat. The sun would rise higher, casting long shadows of myself and the other horses as we worked tirelessly to ensure a good harvest.
But there was more to life than just labour. When the fields were harvested, we often had time to graze under the wide, blue sky, enjoying the camaraderie of the other horses. The colts would kick up their heels, playful and mischievous, and the mares would nicker and graze together, sharing their secrets under the watchful eye of the older geldings.
We weren’t confined to our mundane lives either! Each week, a small caravan would journey from Hayfield, a lively mix of human merchants and sturdy horses, to Aberdeen. This trip was always a delight. The journey through the rolling hills, with their wildflowers and sparkling streams, felt like an adventure, and the bustling streets of the city were an exciting change from the peaceful routine of village life. We were admired for our strength, and our carts were filled with produce and goods that filled the tables of Aberdeen's citizens.
Beyond the Village:
Our world, though confined to our village and nearby Aberdeen, was not small. The rumours of battles and politics often drifted on the wind, carried by the human merchants and the visiting travellers. We were witnesses to a time of great upheaval, where power shifted, alliances were made and broken, and new leaders rose.
One tale that gripped our attention was that of the great Roman Emperor Diocletian, who had decided to share his rule with others. While we were miles away in the far north of Scotland, the rumours reached us – news of these “tetrarchs” who shared power over this mighty Roman empire. How grand it must be, I thought, to have power over vast lands and armies! But such matters seemed distant from my simple life in Hayfield.
A Touch of Mystery:
There was also talk of something stranger still: a curious new religion growing in popularity. They called it “Christianity”. We heard of this “God” who was unlike any deity we’d known before. The stories were often hushed and whispered, a forbidden topic. Some said this God of theirs was powerful, with a divine grace that extended to all creatures, even to humble horses like ourselves.
I didn’t understand this new faith, but I found myself wondering. If this God were to hear our prayers, what would I ask for? Would I pray for a better life, an easier burden? Perhaps a little more freedom, time for games and long gallops under the summer sun?
The Horses of 0298:
In the year 0298, horses were more than mere beasts of burden. We were vital parts of society, companions and tools. The way we lived may have seemed simple, but it was a life rich with meaning, full of the natural beauty of the Highlands and the quiet camaraderie of our own kind. We were the backbone of life, as much as any of the humans we served.
As you travel back in time with me, dear readers, remember this: The horses of 0298, like all horses across the centuries, possessed a strength that lay beyond their powerful muscles. We were embodiments of perseverance, a dedication to our tasks, and an inherent loyalty to those we served. We carried the burdens of society, literally and figuratively. And though life was tough, we remained ever grateful for the small moments of joy, for the warmth of the sun on our coats, the soft touch of the wind on our manes, and the company of those we loved.
This, dear readers, is my snapshot of life as a horse in the year 0298. The world is constantly changing, yet the spirit of the horse, its strength, loyalty, and enduring resilience, remains constant. May we all, regardless of the year, continue to find joy in the simple things – a day of honest labour, a taste of fresh grass, and the companionship of our fellow steeds.
Until next time, fellow equestrians, ride on!
