>> see more Prehistoric Cave Horse images [Photobucket slideshow]

The earliest beginnings of mankind echo through artistry preserved on rock walls, giving silent testimony to the creative impulse inherent in mankind … and evidence that our fascination with the horse is older than history.

»  “On the Rocks” – the Horse in Cave Art

»  Little Horse on the Prairie

»  Man and the Prehistoric Horse

»  How to Hunt a Horse

»  Cave Art vs. Franz Marc paintings

»  Leaving the Prehistoric World Behind

»  The Cave of Chauvet Official site with interactive map

»  The Lascaux Caves Metropolitan Museum of Art

»  Lascaux Cave French Ministry of Culture site (3-D Map)

Unlike dogs and cats, horses have not been domesticated so much as tamed. The horse is an ancient species and has never surrendered his basic nature. In a real sense, every horse is born wild.

The horse’s strong natural instincts are a large part of what makes riding a challenge. Spooking or shying, bolting, rearing, wanting to run home—horses do these things because they retain their basic nature as prey.

Horses have never left the plains

It’s long been observed that even well-bred and highly-trained horses set loose onto a prairie successfully revert to the wild. The “wild” mustangs of the American West are descendants of tamed horses which escaped or were set loose on the plains.

Science finds that horses are not fundamentally changed from their contact with humans. The recent book, Documenting Domestication: New Genetic and Archaeological Paradigms [University of California Press] concludes, “…despite over a century of morphometrics on equid skeletons, there is still no consensus on which criteria are reliable for distinguishing between wild and domestic horses…”

Even though we have been able to breed changes of body size and type, the horse remains intrinsically itself.  Remarkably it is mankind that was changed — by the horse!

Horses are an Ancient Breed

The reason for horses remaining “wild” is that equines are a much older species than humans. Horses existed in their present form for over 3 million years before the development of modern man.

This is not to say the horse remains aloof from mankind. Our animal partner long ago made a bargain to cooperate with humans, forging a unique and amazing partnership that helped build human civilization. In fact, evidence of our profound connection can be seen in mares, who will not typically permit members of her own herd to approach her newborn foal … but will allow a trusted human.

NOTHING HARMLESS FEELS so much like dying as having one’s breath well and truly knocked out. Heaving for air without result, Meagan fought panic as she waited for a breath. When it finally came, she leaned onto her hands and panted in great gulps.

Sounds of men came through the darkness, their speech fast and urgent. Meagan steadied her breathing and listened as words rose and fell around her, foreign words spoken in crisp, rapid strokes. The voices approached and hands gripped the fabric of her tunic, inspecting, pulling at the folds and letting them go.

A light colored horse was led forward, a faint apparition glowing in the darkness. Meagan reached out a hand and ran it along familiar contours. It was a pony, a short but fully grown equine. She was lifted and pushed onto the pony’s back, where she instinctively reached for the reins lying low on the animal’s neck. The stadium and chariots had evaporated into the night air. The last Meagan remembered was the rush of white wings, and the world seemed to melt and reassemble into new solid forms. Now Rome was a memory.

A knot of horsemen rode past Meagan. She could see faces in the light of the torches they carried, Asian faces, parched and grim in the flickering redness. Her pony mount swished its tail impatiently, and Meagan automatically reached to pat the animal’s shoulder. Her hand felt an irregular patch in the hair, and she leaned over to see. Branded on the shoulder, barely visible in the torchlight, was a crescent symbol over a circle.

Voices were receding into the night. Meagan allowed the pony to join the sound of hoof beats flowing through the warm darkness. All she cared to know was that she had moved closer to her own time—so far, there was no evidence. One thing was certain: she was not yet back home.

Excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow, the award-winning first volume of “The Legend of the Great Horse” trilogy. (Hrdbk pg. 179)

Book II: The Golden Spark is available! Book III announcements coming soon…

Read the 1st Chapter online!

Copyright © 2008 John Royce

“The driver listens to no one. Fame has deafened his ears.” Horace stepped into the early morning sun. His marred face was ugly in the naked light and Meagan fought her urge to step back. He led her a short distance away from the gates and lowered his voice. “If you are planning to escape you will have no interference from me.”

“I am not, Horace, I promise. I just want to help the horses.” She saw his quizzical look and corrected herself. “Help the Emperor, I mean.”

“Good. Helping the Emperor cannot be wrong. It can even bring you freedom.” Puffed from sleep, the man’s pale gaze was unnerving. “You are different than other women, Meagan. I want to ask…” His voice became carefully impassive. “What will you do if you receive freedom? Will you go home?”

“I don’t know.” Quick tears formed which she wiped away. “Sometimes I don’t think so.”

Horace rubbed his face and looked at the morning sky. His profile was clean and unblemished. With quiet conviction he recited, “And yet more bright shines out the Julian star, as moon outglows each lesser light…”

“That is nice, Horace. What is a Julian star?”

“The moon at its fullest. Or, one who outshines.”

“Where did you learn it?”

“My mother. She believed in education.”

“My parents did, too.” She hurried to change the subject from home. “How old are you, if you don’t mind?”

“An old man. I have twenty years.”

“That isn’t old, Horace. You be anything.”

“And I would be, now. ’A good scare is worth more than good advice.’”

She nodded. “I understand that. I really do.”

“That quote was the real Horace,” he said softly. “Quintus Horatius Flaccus, the favorite poet of Emperor Augustus. I was named after him. Rome wants another Horace, my mother used to say.”

“Your mother sounds very sweet. I think it’s nice to be named after a poet.”

“Thank you. I didn’t used to be so courteous about it. ‘Adversity draws out talent,’ my mother said to me, over and over. I found my own favorite lines. ‘Seize the day!’ I told her when I left for the legions. Wasn’t I a bright boy?” He gave a dry laugh. “Father approved of the legions. Men of honor find their reward, father said. Homer was his man.” He lifted his face again to the sky. “‘A vase is begun—why, as the wheel goes round, does it turn out a pitcher?’”

Excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow, the award-winning 1st volume of “The Legend of the Great Horse” trilogy. (Hrdbk pg. 151)

Read the 1st Chapter online!

Copyright © 2008 John Royce

THE CHARIOT DRIVER stood and offered his hand. “Would you like to see Cerberus? I will give you the honor.” His handsome smile was warmth in the cold air. “My name is Braedin.”

She took his hand casually, but the heat of his grasp went through her. “Braedin! I like that. My name is Meagan. They rhyme, sort of … Meagan, Braedin.” She bit her tongue to stop talking.

Together they walked out of the compound, past the curved hindquarters of the marble horses protecting the gates. Beyond them, the outline of buildings topped the surrounding hills, a moonlit cityscape framed by stone. Hard-packed road passed between a circle of pens and an adjoining work-shop. Inside could be seen a shadowy row of neatly stowed chariots.

They passed the workshop area and approached the paddocks. Out of the darkness a stallion’s scream pierced the night air. A horse charged the fence. The driver smiled as dirt flew around him and announced, “The warrior Cerberus!”

Meagan watched in disapproval. “Horses do not have to be like this, Braedin. You would be amazed what some carrots and a nice bridle can do.”

The driver watched the angry stallion with admiration. Hooves smacked against the wood fence in front of him. “The greatest son of Pegasus, the Thundering Horse of Jove! If I had three more like Cerberus our team would win without challenge!”

“Actually Braedin, I think you would have four dead horses.”

“You are wrong. Were the others as strong as mighty Cerberus, he would pull with them. Cerberus is a warrior. He only hates weakness.”

Common horse sense told Meagan that the stallion only hated rivals, but she decided against pressing the point. Instead she watched a small shadow dance toward them in the moonlight, approaching with a comical jig. A goat came up to the fence and shoved his wiry neck through the timber poles, hoping for a handout. It is not uncommon for a horse to bond with a smaller animal, and a transformation came over the stallion as he sniffed his tiny companion. Meagan reached to pet the goat and Cerberus laid back his ears. She stepped back. “So, they do not fight because this is a strong warrior goat? I mean, the horse does not hate everything. You can see he has a nice side.”

“We are not interested in the stallion’s nice side,” the driver said sharply. “Cerberus is not the Emperor’s favorite stallion for his nice side.”

“This is the Emperor’s favorite?”

“Yes. From the day Cerberus savaged Titus’ Blues and scattered them across the track. A glorious day.”

Meagan made herself stay silent.

“It was the same month the horse became a centenarius!” The charioteer’s voice was a boast. “Emperor Trajan gave orders that Cerberus would always run in his team. Trajan was a general of the legions, and Cerberus is to represent the military strength that now rules Rome!” The boast died. “Of course, that was many months ago. And many horses.”

“I am sorry, what is a ‘centenarius?’”

“A horse that has won a hundred races. I drove Cerberus to half of those victories before he became too fierce.” His voice grew boastful again. “One of my fans is a poet named Martial. He gave me an epitaph for when I am killed.” The driver stood straighter and recited: “Here lies Braedin, the glory of the roaring Circus, the object of Rome’s cheers and her short-lived darling. The Fates, counting not years but victories, judged me an old man.”

Meagan listened appreciatively. “That is very nice, Braedin, for when you are killed.” She watched the goat grazing quietly by the stallion. At least the horse was not insane, she realized, ending doubts. “I think Cerberus wants friends. Horses do, you know.”

Excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow, the award-winning 1st volume of “The Legend of the Great Horse” trilogy. (Hrdbk pg. 140)

Read the 1st Chapter online!

Copyright © 2008 John Royce

A lone shape approached from the shadows of the barracks. “Of an evening!” the dark figure called. “May I join you?”

“Of course!” Meagan called back. Horace usually retired early, but she would be glad of his company.

Instead it was the Emperor’s chariot driver who approached. He knelt, two eyes shining in the moonlight. “Are you planning your place among the stars?”

She swallowed, unable to think of anything sensible to say in English, much less Latin.

“I have seen you here before. You like this little grove. Are you a worshipper of wood nymphs?”

“Oh, I am. They are so clean.” When the driver did not leave, Meagan sat up straighter. Maybe some Romans were friendly, she thought. One shouldn’t judge based on a few. “Have you been a driver very long?”

“All my life. I have driven three seasons for the Emperor. I drove Cerberus to his greatest victories.”

“Did you say ‘Sir-Bearus?’ Is that one of the horses?”

The driver laughed. “I do not mean the demon hound that guards Hades! Of course Cerberus is a horse!”

“Oh,” Meagan said politely. “You named a horse after a demon?”

“Yes, the three-headed dog-beast who devours all who try to escape the Underworld.” The driver spoke with admiration. “Our stallion Cerberus does the same to any who try to pass him.”

“I see,” she answered, trying to sound impressed. Then she asked casually, “have you seen any new black horses lately … say, a really tall mare?”

“We keep no mares in the Emperor’s stables,” the driver said curtly. “We favor stallions.” He lowered his voice. “I wonder, how does it feel to know the time of your death?”

A flash of panic went through her. “Well, I do not know that yet.”

“The Festival of Mars begins in six days. Are you not sad, not miserable?”

“I suppose.” Meagan felt a chill beyond the cold. “Are you trying to be nice?”

The young man’s teeth shone in the moonlight.

Excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow, the award-winning 1st volume of “The Legend of the Great Horse” trilogy. (Hrdbk pg. 138)

Book II: The Golden Spark will be published soon.

Read the 1st Chapter online!

Copyright © 2008 John Royce