Whether hitting a goat skin in a game played like polo or running a spontaneous race, a serious edge underlay the fun. The nomads had given up their lives to the horse and in return had become superhuman. The people could survive for a time without food, but they could not survive without horses. – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)Sometime, somewhere on the plains…
It fascinated Meagan to watch the horses being summoned each morning. It was usually the same old man who called, and when he cupped his hands and blew his whistle, heads popped up throughout the ranging herd. Some horses came immediately; others took longer, snatching last mouthfuls of grass as they came.
Each band had its own call, and each foal was trained at its mother’s side as to which call was its own. Meagan practiced her camp’s whistle, imitating the low-to-high pitch. Targa was always one of the first to answer, coming with head high and nostrils flared, snapping impatiently at loafers moving too slowly.
Two things were always in demand: firewood and water. Meagan enjoyed the daily expeditions to hunt for supplies, conducted in slow gallops across vast stretches of plain. She soon found the landscape was not featureless as she had first thought, but rather too subtle for eyes accustomed to manmade structures. She began to notice undulations and colors in the emptiness, and to see the variety and richness of the plains.
Occasional puffs of dust appeared in the landscape, puffs that grew into riders wrapped up like mummies. These were messengers that galloped into and out of the horde, running from horizon to horizon, providing a lifeline of communication to the world. With growing respect, Meagan realized these were not mere wanderers but true nomads. This was a nation on horseback, a laughing, squabbling realm.
Whether hitting a goat skin in a game played like polo or running a spontaneous race, a serious edge underlay the fun. The nomads had given up their lives to the horse and in return had become superhuman. The people could survive for a time without food, but they could not survive without horses. Every rider groomed and fed his mount before taking his own meal, which include dried meat and barbeque, as well as fermented mare’s milk, something Meagan tasted only once.
Excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow, the award-winning first volume of “The Legend of the Great Horse” trilogy. (Hrdbk pg. 188)
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Copyright © 2008 John Royce
A fly landed on her nose. It was a horrible disappointment to open her eyes and see people sitting on their mats beside lines of tied horses. She and the vast company had ridden the entire day and well into the night. Meagan tried to sit up, but pain shot through every muscle. She was sure she felt a twitch in her eyelids.
When Meagan opened her eyes, her first thought was she had been beaten. Heavily. A horn sounded at close proximity and pain blossomed throughout her body in an amazing bouquet. Maybe I was run over by a chariot after all, she thought, wincing. – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)
Others were sitting up and stretching. All around her, lines of horses were being groomed and tacked. Meagan groaned to think of getting on a horse. The mere effort to sit up made her gasp. A bow-legged man was walking through the camp knocking pallets of late sleepers. “No, thank you,” Meagan told him. “No riding today.”
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