I’ve been going to work with a heavy heart lately. I work in the stables of the High Khan. It was me putting the silver saddle on him the day he was to be gifted to this young girl. The chosen bride. She was mythical in our imagination. We saw her as… She was supposed to ride through the city gates on the last of the speaking horses of our kingdom. I assumed the horse would do his bit, shouting out words like, I dunno, I bring her to you! I bring peace and prosperity. But when he came back here with her, he was… I dunno… dejected. And silent. He hasn’t spoken a word.
I mean we never used to chat, him and I. Not daily. But we had these rare talks. And the things he said to me made my imagination go wild. He had a horse’s mind. I always found horses wiser than humans but also more easily scared. More easily frightened out of their wits. They are animals of prey, after all. Even if the horses in the Khan’s stables are treated like royalty.
He doesn’t want the silver saddle any more. But she forces it on him. Sometimes I think, yes, that she is a magical being but not in the right way. I try to take care of him. He is the last talking horse in our kingdom. Or was. Before her.
Now he is looking at me with big eyes. Something is different. It is a look of sadness and of hope. I cannot read him. I cannot resist him. I stop what I am doing and I walk up to him. Time stops being time, if you know what I mean. And now he lifts his head, and something makes me untie him and he walks out of the stables, unsaddled, like a free animal. Like a burden has lifted. I follow and my heart is heavy no more.
