Nietzsche Horse Novels & Stories

The simple contact makes me shiver as he breaks the rules once more and touches me. “They have had many names, but dead horses are the literal translation of the oldest name I have ever found for them. I train the dead horses in my spare time. We have over fifty of them which we can ride, and they pull our carriages when we aren’t breeding them. Wild dead horses are difficult to train, but perhaps you would like to help me in your new home,” he offers, and it seems honest enough. A dream, really. “I’d really like that,” I say with a cautious smile.

I caress his muzzle, and he moves his ears back and forth. “I definitely don't understand you.” “Me?” I ask, confused. “Him.” Point to the horse. “What?” “Many people say that the Cometa is an untamed horse.” “Really?” I say looking at the horse all affectionate with me. “Yes. Only I can assemble it.” “If you let me, I could do it too.” “Do you want to stop talking about it? I won't and it's over!” He speaks irritated. “Boring.” I mumble, and he takes a deep breath.

Elijah said finally. Nico didn’t stop working. “I’m not most people.” “We’ll see.” *** A horse stamped nearby—restless, agitated. Big. Muscular. Expensive. Dangerous. *** Elijah nodded toward it. “That one’s trouble.” Nico glanced over. “What do you want me to do?” “Handle it.” *** Nico frowned slightly. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” *** He approached slowly. The horse snorted, ears pinned back, tension rolling through its body like a storm waiting to break.

Then he added, turning to the horse, “Eiderte g’alde. Ren velde un gal’ibjer xenwer biolk, er daljer sairet.” This meant, “Ride carefully. Don’t dare to drop your owner. I’ll smash your skull with my bare hands if she gives a single cry.” The shellmougr jerked his head, tossing his mane. White clouds streamed from his nostrils, as if they were surrounded by winter’s frost and not a warm summer evening. His crimson eyes flashed with rage. However, in a moment the horse lowered his head, carefully pawing the ground with his hoof.

“These people might be in trouble” “I don’t think so. Didn’t you see their mounts? I grew up raising mounts and selling them with my father. So I can recognize those horses. Those are Red Maned Horses. They are even more expensive than Gold Hoofed Horses. Young Master Twain is blind to not see that.” “That is true. Plus these people are also allowed to ride in the city. No ordinary person would have such a privilege.”

“Mommy, come see!” Eager for the distraction, I joined her at the window. “Look.” Elva pointed down toward the stables. “It’s Nick-lass.” Nicholas and Lilliana stood near the entrance of the stables as horses were brought to them by stable hands. Nicholas’s horse was a regal black stallion that greedily accepted a sugar cube from Nicholas’s palm. The horse chosen for Lilliana was a brown and white mare that seemed nervous around her. The horse kept trying to sidestep whenever Lilliana came too close.