Post Number 807
Hello everyone, it's Emma here, a young mare of 20 years from Hayfield near Aberdeen, and welcome to my little corner of the world wide web. My hooves are itching to share some of the happenings from the year 0807 - an exciting time, as you might know if you’ve been following my EquiWorld blogs for a while now!
We’ve moved on from the Romans, bless their sturdy hearts, and now it’s the Vikings who have made themselves right at home here in the North, bringing a bit of rough and ready spirit to our land. Don’t get me wrong, they're a lot tougher than the Romans, that’s for sure, but they're not without their charm. Their stories of daring raids across the sea and their fierce determination fill me with awe, especially the women, strong and bold in a way that’s truly inspiring!
I remember back in 0807, when I was still a sprightly filly of about three or four, I’d be watching those brave Viking warriors as they prepared to sail to new shores. I was captivated by their booming laughter and the tales of bravery and adventure they’d share around the fire at night. Their huge, lumbering steeds, with their shaggy coats and intricate markings, seemed almost mythical to my young eyes.
Here in Hayfield, things have been pretty much the same for years and years, but there’s a new buzz in the air these days. That's partly because of the Vikings, I’d say, and partly because the weather’s been just perfect for growing some beautiful barley crops. So the fields are bursting with green, ripe for harvesting, and that means my strong brethren and I will be kept busy for a good few months ahead!
As a draught horse, my days are filled with the important task of ploughing fields and hauling carts, but I never feel tired. It's satisfying work, watching the ground churn under my hooves as I turn the earth ready for planting. I take my job seriously, for our strength and skill ensure that families and communities can have food on the table. I'm proud to play my part in bringing nourishment to all, and I'm quite proud of my ability to pull an impressive cart, too! You should see me with a hefty load of barley. I move like a powerful locomotive, the wheels almost groaning with the weight I’m hauling!
One day, a handsome bay stallion, a Viking from over the hills, arrived with his humans. He’s a sight to behold, strong and sure-footed, a real beauty! It seems he and his human are travelling all the way from Norway, following the ancient trails the Vikings have created, so you could say they have a good story to tell.
That bay stallion is not one for carting though - he's much too elegant and athletic. He’s built for speed and stamina, and they're using him for a very specific purpose. I gather he’s training for an incredible competition they call the ‘Thing’. It sounds almost mystical, a gathering of warriors and tribes to compete in many exciting contests.
This magnificent horse, whom they call Stormcloud, is competing in something called 'hrossakapplepp', which translates to 'horse-racing'. The thrill of those races is almost palpable, like a tingle all through my hooves, the anticipation in the air so tangible. I gather this Thing competition is an ancient tradition that honours Odin, the god of wisdom and the battlefield.
I watched Stormcloud during his training. It was pure beauty - the way he arched his neck as he leaped forward, the sound of his hooves echoing across the valley, the effortless grace of his movements. He was a natural at this ‘hrossakapplepp’, and he filled me with a powerful urge to run and to feel that freedom under the wide-open sky.
Later that evening, I was watching the humans gather around a roaring fire, their faces alight with excitement. A weathered woman with eyes that shimmered like the northern lights held a long, narrow stick with intricate symbols etched into its surface. As she pointed towards Stormcloud with that stick, the fire seemed to glow brighter and a warmth radiated through me, like a shared joy. I’d learn later that the stick was a symbol of luck, passed down through generations, with blessings written on it by shamans.
I felt myself getting carried away by the stories around the campfire. There was talk of great feats, of journeys across the treacherous seas, and tales of mythical beasts, like a giant snake named Jormungandr that encircles the entire world. It was all so grand and amazing! They tell stories that go back thousands of years, of the ancestors, and of a great mythical steed called Sleipnir. They believe that Sleipnir was born from Loki, the mischievous god of trickery and mischief, and it is said he has eight legs. Just imagine! I haven’t even seen one horse with two extra legs!
That evening, my friends and I, we stood together under the dark, velvet sky. It was quiet and calm, apart from the soft rumble of hooves on grass as the horses shifted in their slumber. My heart felt as full as the moon shining overhead, and I felt that ancient connection with my horse kind, with the Vikings, and with all who had gone before.
As the new year begins, I look to the future with hopeful eyes. The warmth of the Vikings is something I appreciate. I think the future holds many good things, a chance for horses to be seen as a crucial part of daily life and travel, of journeys, of conquest. There’s a buzz of excitement here in Hayfield, for what the new year might hold.
But for now, I must focus on my duties, for it is the strength of our work that supports us all. The land is calling to us. See you all again next time.
Your friend, Emma
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