by Lynn Mann
Two
Obsession
During the years that followed, my shyness was forgotten as I interviewed as many villagers as I could for any information they could give me about horses or the Horse-Bonded. I worked hard to improve my writing so that every tiny piece of information I gleaned could be recorded for future reference.
As I grew older and learnt to use the school library, I scoured the Histories for stories of the Horse-Bonded. I learnt that the first Horse-Bonded to exist was one of the Ancients, a man named Jonus. With the aid of his horse, Mettle, he was instrumental in establishing the new way of life, or “The New”.
Before The New, the Histories tell us, humans lived very differently from the simple, largely harmonious way that we do now. We live in relatively small, self-sufficient communities and most things we need can be made or grown using the power of the mind, or a strong back and sound work ethic. During “The Old”, everything was provided by machines.
Animals were farmed indoors with machines controlling their feeding, movement and hygiene. Food plants were likewise propagated and harvested indoors, where the climate and light source could be completely controlled at all times. No disease was permitted in the clinically sterile conditions and the genetically modified produce provided the optimum nutritional value.
Worldwide, people lived crammed on top of each other in countless, impossibly tall buildings that made up vast cities. No one was permitted to live outside the cities, since their safety could then not be guaranteed. “Safety and Comfort” was the promise to the people from the governments.
Transport vehicles ran on rails up to each and every building and were controlled by machines, since accidents could happen were humans to drive themselves. One simply entered one’s destination at the control panel and then sat back until arrival at the desired destination.
Exercise of any form was not permitted outdoors as safety to one’s person could not be guaranteed, so children played in each other’s homes or at organised, indoor play venues. Adults could only exercise at machines, in the safety of either the home or a communal, policed gymnasium.
Animals were not permitted to be part of human communities since their behaviour could not be guaranteed and they were therefore deemed dangerous. When the law banning pet or zoo animals was passed, all animals were rounded up and dumped outside the tall, impregnable city gates to fend for themselves.
Eye and hair scans took place at the entrance to every building and vehicle, so that the position of every citizen could be constantly monitored in the interests of safety.
Records were kept of all families and food was rationed accordingly, so that no obesity or ill health could occur due to bad eating habits. Families lived their lives around work or school, exercising and socialising with “appropriate associates”; it wasn’t considered safe for people of different races, religions or social classes to mix, as differences of opinion could occur and that could compromise the safety of the individuals concerned.
The Histories show that the more measures that were taken to ensure safety, the more people tended to look for reasons to feel frightened and unsafe. This trend was mirrored at the level of governments and the level of mistrust between nations grew.
Certain individuals began to recognise the source of the growing anxiety and paranoia, and started to step apart from it. They came from all nationalities, races, religions and social classes, and yet they are all recorded as having experienced the same sudden yearning for a life of which none of them had previously had any notion or experience. They wanted to live a life that allowed their instincts to guide them, safe or not. They wanted to be surrounded by other animals, by trees, grass, sun, rain and wind, not concrete, machines and carefully conditioned, safe air. And gradually, in ones, twos and occasionally small family groups, they began to leave their homes and their cities.
It wasn’t as hard to leave as they had been led to believe it would be. The criminal underground that has existed in any human community since time immemorial until The New, was well established and well organised. At the promise of being awarded everything the emigrants were leaving behind — their apartments and all the possessions they couldn’t carry with them — the Kindred, as they were known, happily bribed and threatened where necessary to get their charges out of the city gates to freedom and the great unknown.
Without exception, the Ancients walked as their instincts guided them, until they could no longer feel the weight of the oppressive societies they had left. And their instincts led them to each other. As they welcomed each other with joy and relief, they began to realise of what they were a part. They had ignored all of the caution and fear with which they had been indoctrinated since birth, and followed what a feeling inside urged them to do — and they had found other people who had done the same. The Histories tell of the way their hearts and souls sang with the joy of their new lives, at least in the beginning.
All of the fledgling communities agreed, independently of each other, to live according to what their intuition told them was right. And so it was that these Ancients became the founding fathers of The New. A potential now existed for humans to evolve away from a way of life where decisions were based on fear, towards one where decisions were guided by the inner wisdom and strength possessed by each and every person.
But it was hard. So hard. The food they had managed to save and bring with them didn’t last long and they had never had to produce food for themselves before, let alone build shelters or even make fire. Intuition led them to eat food that nature provided and they learnt to hunt and gather seeds to sow for later seasons, but it took time to get the first farmland to be productive. They had to salvage ploughs from long-abandoned farms and find, round up and train donkeys and oxen to pull them, so that further land could be cultivated. The initial, hastily erected shelters didn’t last the first storms and had to be rebuilt time and again. People pulled together and tried their hardest, but cold and hunger can do things to a weary mind. Bit by bit, doubts began to creep in.
Jonus was among those trying to find a way to build a sturdy, weather-proof shelter in his community. His group were on their fifth attempt and although their new ideas seemed to be working much better, everyone knew they hadn’t achieved what they sensed they needed. They were, as ever, hungry, and tempers were flaring. It was during a break for water one morning, that Jonus was tugged. He had no idea what was happening of course and assumed hunger was responsible for him imagining that he could feel another mind pulling at his own. Days later, unable to form a single thought and driven almost to madness by the now fierce tugging of his mind, he ran from his place of work towards where he judged it to be emanating. Two days later he found Mettle, a sixteen hand, grey stallion, heading in his direction.
The Histories tell of how Jonus returned to his community a few days later with Mettle at his side. He explained that Mettle had told him that the horses who yet remained on the planet recognised the effort the humans of The New were making to evolve their species and they wanted to help. They weren’t prepared to serve humans in the ways in which they had been willing in the past, but some horses would choose individual humans with whom to work and those humans would then be a source of wisdom and strength to their fellows.
Jonus said that according to Mettle, they would find the answers to their building problems in memories buried deep within each and every one of them; memories of a race that had lived many millennia before and which had built enormous four-sided structures, each face of which was a triangle.
That night, two members of the building team had the same dream. They dreamt of groups of dark-haired, nearly naked, bronze-skinned men and women who sang together. They focused on massive blocks of stone as they sang and gradually the blocks began to rise to impossible heights, until they were placed to rest beside their equally large neighbours.
A few days later, the first Rock-Singers set to work.
Mettle and Jonus travelled from community t
o community, spreading encouragement and using precise wording to help people remember skills long lost to the human race, but present still within the human psyche. Their aim was to ensure that The New survived, and the Histories would come to show that they achieved their goal.
Other Horse-Bonded and their horses were also mentioned in connection with noteworthy historical events to which they had contributed and I was fascinated by every mention of them.
It wasn’t long before my reading and writing skills far surpassed those of my friends at school, so driven was I to read and note down everything that would prepare me for when my horse summoned me. My yearly school reports began to indicate the extent of my obsession:
“Amarilla is an extremely intelligent child and learns quickly, however attempts to broaden her interests are proving futile,” was the comment at the bottom of one of my reports. I remember it well because my mother, understanding exactly to what it referred, repeated it over and over again in an increasingly high-pitched voice, until my father poured her a glass of wine and assured her she would feel much calmer sitting on her chair by the fire.
Subsequent reports carried a similar theme:
“Amarilla writes well, however she fails to recognise that there are topics worthy of her creativity other than horses.”
“Amarilla’s attempts at drawing are always interesting and she is a devoted student. I think the piebald horse with blue eyes has now been sketched from every possible angle.”
“Amarilla is good at her sums when she is applying herself. I do, however, spend a goodly part of many lessons redirecting her attention from her daydreams to her work.” And,
“Amarilla’s knowledge of the Histories is admirable in a student of her age, however her written accounts of them tend to show effort only when there is mention of horses and the Horse-Bonded — a shame.”
By the time I was fourteen, my father knew to be home before I was on the last day of the school year, and to ensure that my mother had a glass of wine in her hand. For my part, I knew to leave my report on the kitchen table and then make myself scarce until the evening, by which time my mother would have ranted, my father would have consoled and we would all be back to normal again.
‘She’ll grow out of it, you know she will,’ I overheard him tell her for the hundredth time. I was sitting in the bushes by the back door, waiting for the explosion that would signal my mother had finished reading this year’s report. ‘And anyway, it will all come to nothing unless a horse actually chooses her and what are the chances of that?’
My stomach turned over as my father voiced my biggest fear. Despite having had such strong images of my piebald, blue-eyed mare for the last seven years and despite my dreams of her as I stared out of the window at school — how the sun caught every single silver-white tail hair as she flicked flies off of her gleaming black and white coat, how she pricked her ears and flared her nostrils at any new sound, focusing her intense, blue-eyed stare towards it until she was satisfied as to its source — what if, and I whispered this even within my mind, what if she weren’t real?
But then I felt a sensation I had first experienced a couple of years previously; a whispering passed by my mind. It wasn’t a tugging — at least it didn’t match the description of it that I’d been given — it was the faintest sense of her passing me by, much as two people pass by on opposite sides of the street. My heart soared as I knew afresh that she existed and that when the time was right, she would call me.
‘But even if a horse never tugs her,’ my mother’s voice jolted my attention back to their conversation, ‘she’s wasting so much time obsessing over it all that she’s missing out on preparing for her future. All her friends are testing for the different Skills to see if they show aptitude. Nate’s already chosen his path as an Earth-Singer, give him a few years and he’ll be out with Robbie and Con, singing the earth full of air, then singing it into furrows ready for seed, and what will our Amarilla be doing? Drawing horses, practising husbandry on the donkeys and driving herself mad waiting for the tugging that may never come?’
‘Our Amarilla will come around now she sees her friends choosing their futures, you’ll see,’ said my father.
I began to see that there was something I could do that would please everyone. I exited the bush and went into the kitchen. My parents turned in their seats at the kitchen table as I entered the room. My mother opened her mouth to begin berating me and my father looked at me quizzically, obviously wondering why I had approached my mother by choice when she was far from calm.
‘I’ve decided to test for the Skills,’ I said quickly. ‘I know everyone else was tested in the last few weeks of school and I’m late putting myself forward, but maybe if I go and ask, one of the Testers will agree to assess me tomorrow? After all, we’ve only just broken up, the holidays haven’t really started properly, have they?’
‘Oh Amarilla!’ my mother said, rushing towards me with her arms outstretched. ‘I hoped and prayed you’d see sense but you seemed so determined.’
My father heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Amarilla, your mother and I are thrilled. I will go and ask the Testers if they will agree to your suggestion.’
‘Dad, you only need to ask Nerys,’ I said, referring to the Tester of the Healing Skills. ‘I want to test for the Skills that will aid me once I am bonded.’
My father took in a sharp breath and held it. My mother, however, had clearly decided to focus on the fact that I would test for the Skills. ‘Frank please go and ask Nerys now, I absolutely can’t bear to wait until later. Oh, our Amarilla will be a Healer! I can hardly believe it! A Healer in the family! Wait until I tell Jas!’ She gave me a last hug and rushed off to give her sister the latest news.
My father took one of my hands in each of his and squeezed them gently. ‘Amarilla my beloved daughter, you are very wise. Not only have you decided to test for a path that will give you a future if you aren’t ever tugged, I said IF,’ he added, as I rolled my eyes, ‘but you have also made your mother very happy. And for that, we are all eternally grateful.’
We both dissolved into laughter and he hugged me close to him, before releasing me and departing to go and find Nerys.
Three
Healing
It had seemed like the best thing to do. If it transpired that I showed any aptitude for any of the Healing Skills, my parents would be ecstatic, I would be learning a Skill that would help me to care for my horse and I wouldn’t be the only one of my age not training in one of the Skills or Trades after my final year at school.
Back then, it was customary for children to be tested for the Skills at fourteen even though they still had another year left to complete at school, so that their minds would have a year to open to the idea of their chosen path. It also gave those who tested for the Skills, but showed no aptitude for them, a good amount of time to consider in which Trade they would like to apprentice. Often, children chose to train for the same Trade as their parents, foregoing their Skills testing, but there was never any pressure put on children to choose a particular path. A child’s own intuition was trusted to guide him or her towards the path to which they were best suited.
My father found Nerys to be more than happy with the idea of testing me, so the following day I arrived promptly for my after-breakfast appointment with her. I knocked on the door of the testing room and entered when bid. I saw that three of the walls were stone, but one was made of glass. There were no floorboards in front of the glass wall and a low table stood on the exposed earth.
Nerys was tall and slim with long, straight grey hair tied back in a tail. ‘Amarilla, what a very pleasant surprise this is,’ she said. ‘Are you testing for everything, or have you sensed that one of the Healing Skills might be for you?’ Her hazel eyes warned against any attempt to pull wool over them.
‘Just the Healing ones, as they’ll be of most use to me once I’m Horse-Bonded,’ I said.
‘I guessed as much. Let’s hope you show s
ome aptitude for one of them then, shall we? I think we’ll start with the herbs. Come and sit with me at the table, we’ll be sitting on the earth as you are going to be using your senses to choose between these herbs and it helps to begin with if there’s nothing between you and where they sprang from,’ she said, cheerfully.
As I sat down on the bare earth and crossed my legs, I saw that there were ten different herbs on the table, none of which I recognised. I began to feel nervous, which must have shown on my face.
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be good at something,’ Nerys said. ‘Now, I want you to look through the glass, out across the fields and into the woodland beyond. As you look, let your senses go out there with your vision. Smell the earth and the plants, feel the breeze, hear the rustle of the leaves. Taste what you smell, hear, see and feel.’
I surprised myself by finding it easy.
‘Got it?’ she asked and I nodded. ‘Good. Now I want more of you out there. Let only a small part of your mind stay with your body, the rest of your awareness needs to be out crawling between blades of grass, moving up tree trunks and along branches, wisping between the leaves, filtering in and out of air pockets in the soil. Be the trees growing, the smaller plants reaching up towards the light, the seed splitting to allow the shoot to emerge. Actually be them.’
I had a definite sense of being the trees, smaller plants and shoots. I told Nerys this and she smiled.
‘You’re doing very well. Your awareness of your mind is surprising for someone your age,’ she said. ‘Now I want you to perform the same exercise, but with the herbs in front of you. They were picked only half an hour ago, so they’re still full of life and vitality and that should make it easier for you to tune into them. Look at the herbs in turn. Extend your senses and then as much of your awareness as you can towards them, into them, through them.’
