From Emma, Grey Draught Horse, Hayfield near Aberdeen
Well, friends, 1453 was quite a year, wasn’t it? I mean, what a time to be a horse, especially one like me! As a 20-year-old grey with a flowing white mane and tail, I was considered pretty well established, but that year, my horizons expanded so much it was like my mane had just been braided for the first time, full of potential and excited to see what was over the next hill!
It all started with the news that had swept through the land like a sudden, unexpected downpour: Constantinople, the great city in the East, was falling. Imagine, my dear readers, a city so rich with history, built around a massive, strong, fortified city walls! Imagine the merchants, the traders, the hustle and bustle of all those people, all the sights and smells of spices and textiles, all the goods brought in on camels and horses! Constantinople, where all the most adventurous journeys began. The idea sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.
Now, back at home, we were doing alright. Hayfield near Aberdeen is a beautiful place. Our field stretches as far as the eye can see, a vibrant tapestry of emerald grass speckled with the sweet blossoms of wildflowers. We worked the land, pulling plows and wagons, hauling hay, a noble job for a horse like me, and always good for a solid nap under a warm, sunny sky. We lived our lives within our village community, pulling the carts to market, providing transport for those travelling to distant cities, and carrying brave knights and their fine ladies, but nothing compared to the stories whispered on the wind of this incredible city in the East.
A new young groom, Lachlan, came to the stable with news from the wider world, news about the fallen city and about the sultan, Mehmet II. He spoke about how the mighty walls, thought to be impregnable, had succumbed to cannons, their mighty roar like a storm on a tempestuous night. It sounded like something out of a story my wise old mare, Eleanor, used to tell – stories of fearsome battles, lost battles, victorious battles. Lachlan was enthralled, telling stories with an almost nervous energy.
His excitement seeped into my own world. While the news seemed to fill most with gloom, I saw a world of opportunity in it. Suddenly, I knew I was destined for something grand. You see, I was never content with merely pulling a plow, however good and fruitful my field might be. My heart yearned for the unknown, a yearning that deepened with the stories Lachlan shared. The sultan, Mehmet II, known for his bold spirit, was the talk of the stables and inns – his courage, his charisma, all fascinating whispers echoing in our sleepy village. He had claimed Constantinople and the story of this great city, of the mighty walls and its long and illustrious history, captivated my imagination. It filled my days and dreams with thoughts of adventures, distant lands, and untold wonders.
So, it was with great delight and anticipation that I received word of my departure. I would be journeying, along with other strong steeds, towards the coast. Imagine my excitement! It wasn't a simple pilgrimage, you understand, but a diplomatic journey, bringing greetings to this powerful sultan, to establish connections, to show the good faith of our land. Our King, the very wise James II, had decided to build upon these fragile alliances – even if Constantinople was no longer standing. And I was selected to represent our country.
My heart swelled with pride and an indescribable joy. My magnificent, white tail seemed to flow even more powerfully than usual as I trotted down the road, my hooves hitting the cobbles with the rhythm of destiny. I saw our land unfold in a kaleidoscope of rolling hills, ancient stone structures, fields of yellow wheat, and the dark silhouette of the brooding mountains. This familiar land had never been more beautiful, knowing this was the last journey I would make on this side of the world.
Reaching the coast, I saw the vast, dark blue sea stretched before me. Never had I seen something so boundless and intimidating! A shiver, half-fear, half-excitement, ran through me as I watched the boats bob on the waves, ready to carry us to a land far, far away. We stood at the water's edge, ready for embarkation. This was a journey unlike anything I had ever done before, a momentous step toward the unknown.
And you won’t believe who was waiting on the dock as I stepped off the boat in Istanbul! It wasn't the fearsome sultan as you might imagine. Oh no, instead, a young woman. She had chestnut brown hair that fell to her waist, sparkling brown eyes, and she was adorned with elegant Turkish attire. She rode a beautiful dark horse with a star-shaped marking on its forehead. “His name is Star,” she said with a mischievous smile as she pointed at the horse. "This must be Emma!"
“Oh,” she said, holding out a hand that felt small but sturdy, “My father has sent me to welcome you.” Her words felt kind and generous. This was no stern or imposing figure, but a lovely, friendly lady who had travelled all the way from Constantinople’s royal stables just to meet me! It was so lovely to be greeted with such courtesy.
Her horse, Star, was even more beautiful in person than any description could conjure, strong, with eyes that sparkled with energy and mischief, and a coat that reflected the afternoon sun with dazzling beauty. She led me through a labyrinthine city of bustling markets, grand mosques, and vibrant, colorful streets – every inch brimming with life and activity. The scent of spices filled the air, as did the joyful calls of the street vendors and the soft melodies of a lute in a nearby shop. It was unlike any village, any city, any place I had ever been!
We were taken to the Sultan’s stables, where I met a herd of majestic horses, all of various colors and breeds. Each was meticulously groomed and cared for, housed in opulent stables that reeked of fresh straw and fine hay, and treated with utmost care and respect. As the days passed, I learned much about the sultan’s world. His horses weren’t mere working beasts; they were companions, friends, symbols of his power and his passion for all things equestrian.
Each morning, before the day’s business, he rode his own stallion, Bayazid, across the open plains surrounding Constantinople, his majestic mane flowing behind him as if part of a grand, living banner of authority. Watching him gallop, powerful, graceful, free, I couldn’t help but envy his spirit, and his love for these magnificent animals.
My days were filled with conversations with my fellow equines. I listened intently to tales of long, tiring journeys, victories and defeats, of their homelands and customs. These horses came from a world that was a kaleidoscope of different colours. Some of the mares had traveled as far as Persia, bearing rich tapestries on their backs. A large chestnut mare had even journeyed all the way to the Himalayas! Imagine - the snow! I shared my stories of Scotland, the heather and the peat fires, the stories of our wild ponies and the rugged cliffs of the Highlands. My tale of Hayfield near Aberdeen was met with polite curiosity. It was humbling, to be able to tell stories that resonated with these brave, world-wise creatures.
There were other breeds too, small spirited horses from Egypt and fiery Arabians, each with their own personality, their own story, their own unique journey, and they shared their knowledge willingly. Their world felt vibrant and grand, much bigger than my village world back home. They described their homelands, full of life and colour, deserts, rolling grasslands and ancient forests. These stories transported me back home in a different way, as I remembered how lucky I was to be part of that familiar world, my home, and yet I knew with a surety I could not deny that my journey had only just begun.
For every night in the sultan’s stables was filled with stories of adventure. Tales were told around the hay, a warmth growing in the stables, the darkness falling as if the earth had breathed and the stars had come to say goodnight. We horses learned that life, like the journey of a horse, was an adventure. It is full of challenges, yes, but also of great beauty and discovery. It is full of new friends, new journeys, new experiences, and above all, filled with a constant thirst for the unknown.
When the time came for my departure, my heart filled with both sadness and exhilaration, a blend of feelings so profound it almost took my breath away. I had become so comfortable in this new world, in the Sultan’s stables, with Star by my side. Her easy company, her gentleness, her humor made her more than just a friend – I’d grown so fond of this young lady, so fond of our nightly conversations and our walks through the streets of this grand city. I bid farewell to my friends, to the elegant and grand city, and my heart felt heavier than it ever had. I left knowing I had touched on something truly wonderful, a piece of a world beyond Hayfield, and that part of me would remain here, within the city walls.
The sea, which I had found so daunting before, now felt familiar as we set sail for home, like a friendly giant who cradled our ship and brought us safely across.
I travelled back to Scotland changed. My memories were richer and more varied, the stories I had heard now echoing deep within me, like the echo of the cannon firing on that historic day when Constantinople fell. Back at the stable in Hayfield, I felt more settled than ever. This was my home, but I knew I was also a citizen of the wider world.
Now, as a wise and well-travelled horse, I try to tell my young fellow equines about the wonders that lie beyond the horizon. Some look on, their eyes wide and their ears pricked in attention, eager to hear the stories of distant cities and majestic steeds, while others remain content with their routine, their fields, their predictable, but good life, which is wonderful in its own way, too.
My time in Constantinople taught me so much. I had been merely a stable horse, content with a comfortable life. But life is so much more than that! It is a tapestry woven with grand journeys, breathtaking landscapes, new experiences, and friendships forged across continents, all waiting to be discovered. The journey is always the point! And now I am forever grateful, because my heart, like a strong, reliable steed, is ready to race through the gates, and to keep exploring.
Who knows what incredible journey I will encounter next? Only time will tell, but it will certainly be exciting! I’ll be here on Equiworld to tell you about it! And do come back next time to see where the adventure takes me.
