Well, hello there, fellow equines! Emma here, from Hayfield near Aberdeen. It's been a while since I last penned a post, hasn't it? The truth is, I've been busier than a bee in a heather patch these last few months! And what a tale I have to tell. This year, 0745, has been a revelation for a mare like me. It's opened my eyes to the world of trade, journeys far beyond Hayfield, and even a hint of international affairs. Buckle up, as this is a story you'll want to hear!
First, let's set the scene, shall we? Picture a young, healthy grey draught mare like myself, all glistening silver under a crisp Scottish sky. My mane and tail, oh they're as white as snow! The world here is still quite basic, lots of hard work, but beautiful, especially when the sun shimmers off the rolling fields of heather and wild grasses. Our life, you see, is centred around farm work. We’re part of the team, a strong, sturdy unit.
The days were filled with routine, just how I liked it. I enjoyed the pull of the plough, the steady rhythm of hauling carts piled high with barley and wheat. Our horseshoes clinked on cobblestone streets as we carried goods to the local markets. These were times when a good, reliable horse could find its purpose. And that’s all I ever wanted, a place to be useful.
But change, that mischievous little fellow, was on its way.
One day, early in the spring, word started whispering on the breeze like a leaf rustling. Something big was happening in the world of horses! The Northumbrians were busy breeding new breeds, lighter and faster, not just for the work but for…well, for something more! Imagine, a world where we're not just about hauling and pulling but about something more? That had my ears twitching, and my tail swishing with excitement.
You see, around here in the 8th century, most horses were draught horses like myself. Our focus was strength, endurance, the ability to pull a heavy load for hours. We weren’t known for our speed. The thought of horses galloping with riders across fields was pretty new, even a little strange to me.
Now, about this “something more.” It’s hard to say, but whisperings in the stables told tales of wars, of brave men riding steeds across battlefields, of grand lords competing with their powerful steeds in the ring. These stories sparked a spark in me, a kind of ambition that whispered of things beyond Hayfield. The stories felt grand and even…romantic, though, truth be told, they gave me shivers in my bones too. War is not a pretty sight, no matter what the riders might be doing.
What happened next, well, it took my breath away!
One of the farm hands, a fellow named Gregor, he had this infectious enthusiasm for the new world of horses. He would spend hours talking about a place called York. There were, apparently, many horses being trained, for racing! It sounded fantastical, a dream come true for those of us who craved excitement beyond hauling manure.
Then came the real news. Gregor’s brother, young Angus, had joined the Northumbrian King in a sort of “army,” travelling all the way to the kingdom of Mercia! Can you believe it, dear readers? A long journey on horseback! Angus rode one of the new light horses, swift as a hare and handsome with its powerful build. I watched Angus leave, a shadow of yearning settling in my heart. Could this world, with its travel and competition, be a possibility for me too?
That year, I watched closely as Gregor spent his free time training my younger brother, a chestnut with a heart full of fire. He was small, agile, and could be trained for the races. I remember feeling a strange mix of pride and sadness as Gregor's brother’s horse galloped alongside the king’s warhorses, and Gregor watched, mesmerised by the sight. My eyes welled up; the stories came true right in front of my hooves.
You see, horses have always been much more than just workers. They’re companions, symbols of power, even friends to children. But in that year, the potential for us to be more – to be racers, companions, even heroes – bloomed.
Gregor told tales of horses, some magnificent beasts with elaborate saddles, being traded for precious items: gold, gems, even skilled workers. It made me think – our lives weren’t limited to pulling ploughs after all. There was a world out there, a larger stage, and who knew what a clever horse like me might achieve?
As 0745 ended, my eyes had been opened to the power of horses beyond farm work. My life, still simple, was tinged with dreams and the exciting possibility of a future outside my daily routine.
Oh, I must mention, though. Not everyone loved these new trends. I heard a couple of grumpy old mares saying, “No place for fast horses, just like the Romans – more trouble than they’re worth.” It made me shake my head – couldn’t these creatures see the exciting opportunities?
My year 0745 was one of growth, of watching the world around me change, of dreaming big dreams for a life beyond hauling barley. Now, off to tend to my foal, a lovely filly, so full of mischief, who I plan to train to be strong, just like me, yet with a spirit of adventure, perhaps ready for that racing world. It's a grand, wonderful future out there, isn't it? Keep an eye out, Equiworld, because Emma’s journey is just beginning.
