Rapa

Brais arrived at the herd gathering, hearing birds chirping from the mountain forest trees around him. The day of resistance was approaching, and it was all the other horses were talking about.

A strong black horse stood on a boulder facing the herd, “I gather you here today to prepare for the Day of Resistance.” Xurxo, the herd leader, started. “Every year, the two-legged humans arrive with sticks and screams, driving us out of our mountain for a three-days nightmare. They humiliate us, ride on us, grab our tails with force, and cut our hair.”

Alexo whispered in Brais’ ear, “I just don’t understand why they do it every year. After all, we always come back,”

Brais whispered back to his friend, “It doesn’t matter. They humiliate us for nothing, so we’ve got to fight. And we can finally do it this year.”

He was excited. This year he finally turned four, which meant the humans won’t take him out of the fight. Now, he could help resist.

Brais’ attention returned to the words of Xurxo, “-won’t let them get away with this so simply this year. We will kick, bite, and step on them. We will show them we are not sheep. They can’t do whatever they want with us. We are horses of the herd Xoán and do not give up!”

“Wooooooooh! Aleeeeeyaaaaah Ohhhhhhhh! Ayayayayayayay!” Breógan rode behind his tan father with his back straight from pride, guiding the wild horses to the village.

Stick in hand and calling for the horses to gather in the line, he was finally one with the tradition. The horses were beautiful. They were free, the last wild horses in Europe; today, Breógan was making sure they stayed like this.

The two-legged humans riding on horses guided the herd to a closed field. Around Brais, the anxious herd was grazing their fret away, focusing on the grass rather than what was to occur or what had happened just now. Instead of enjoying his day in the forest with his family and friends, he was banished from his own home in an unknown land.

One of the humans riding a white horse was only a few meters away. The big white horse—bigger than any of the herd—called out to Brais, “Bffff, you’ve got no idea how lucky you are.”

Brais looked at him, “With this nightmare? How can we be lucky?”

“You are free. You get to be free all year long at the price of a few days in the ring. But us? We’re never free.”

“Where do you live?”

“It’s called a stable—just a structure made of wood, giving each horse room to live. During the day, we’re in the yard, but not much grazing there, I’ll tell you. They bring dry herbs to eat; the only time out is when they ride us.”

“Those bastards! But why?” Brais asked.

“We are theirs. We are property. But don’t get me wrong; they can be quite nice sometimes. At least we are not cows. Know what happens to them?”

“How can you not fight for your freedom?”

“It won’t help with nothing, mate. Just be happy about your situation. You are free. That’s what matters.”

Breogán watched all the people gathered in the amphitheatre of the village. Hundreds of tourists from all over Spain, and even worldwide, sat on the circular seats expecting the annual Rapa das Bestas.

He stood firm with the other Aloitadores, feeling his heart pumping as the Galician singers and dancers finished their part. Now the horses will be brought. He wasn’t weak anymore. He trained for this.

“This was the Muiñeira, beautiful! A Rapa das Bestas is an ancestral tradition dating back all the way to the Bronze Age, and we are proud to continue it in the year 2023! Now the wild horses will start coming. Bring in the first round!” The announcer called in Galician, and all the visitors clapped. “These beautiful wild horses of the mountains are brought here yearly for this ritual. Indeed, they are lucky to be the last wild horses in Europe, and it’s all thanks to the Rapa. Presenting the Aloitadores,” at this, Breogán raised his hands and shouted in pride. “The brave ones who jump on the horses as equals, without ropes or any other tool, immobilizing them with their bare hands to shave their manes for parasites, give them a vaccine, and be it a young horse, to mark it.”

The first round of the horses finished entering the ring, and the announcer called for the second one and directed the crowd to make a wave with their hands.

“We fill the ring with as many horses as possible for safety. When the horses don’t have a lot of space, they can’t kick other horses or the Aloitadores, and that way, they can’t run too much, making the process shorter for them.”

Brais trotted in a line of other horses from his herd, with the humans guiding them from both sides. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do, just to keep going like every year. They arrived at the village of the humans and got into the usual circular area they came to every year. Brais remembered this place precisely. Here was the first time he was separated from his mother in his first year, he found her after the chaos.

Last year, though, they separated, and he never saw her again.

Getting into the circular area made from stone, he saw all humans seated in front of him as if spectating. There wasn’t a lot of space, and horses encircled him from every side. He could barely move and didn’t understand what was happening around him. It was just chaos.

The humans raised their hands and shouted from right to left, and he saw the other horses panic. They were jumping on one another, biting, kicking, and trying to escape.

After Six rounds of around 100 horses entering the ring, Breogán knew it was time.

“Now that the wild horses are all here, the children of Sabucedo will take out all the foals for their protection,” the announcer called. The children and their fathers got in the mess of the horses to take out the young horses while the other Aloitadores created a circle around them for protection. Breogán remembered the fear he had when he was a kid and did just that with his father. The skinny small kid walked amidst huge horses, grabbing young horses that were way stronger than he expected to get them out of the ring. One time, the other horses tacked him and his father, and he remembered his father protecting him with his body, getting stepped on by wild horses until Breogán got up. Now, he wasn’t weak anymore. He would show them he was strong.

The foals were out of the ring, and it was time. He looked at his team of two, Campio, a 17-year-old with black hair who was the second Aloitador of the head, and Xes, a 33-year-old bald bulk-of-a-man who was the one of the tail. They were ready, so as the first Aloitador of the head, he went ahead and selected a horse—a white one, about 1.60 meters high. He started running into the crowd of horses and used his entire force to jump on him, but he jumped too low and fell between the horses. On the ground, he twisted from a hoove that was about to crash his ribs and got on his legs. He located the white horse again deeper into the crowd of horses and started parting his way to it again. When it was within reach, he started running and jumped on the back of the horse, holding its mane strong with his two hands. The horse jumped, trying to get Breogán off its back, and tried running, but the crowd of horses didn’t let him reach too far. In the meantime, Campio arrived to the right, putting one arm around the horse’s face, covering its eyes, while the other around its neck, and Xes came from behind and held firm the horse’s tail. Now was Breogán’s cue. He jumped from the back of the horse to the left, mirroring the hold of Campio from the other side. The horse struggled some more, but not seeing anything and being held in place, it stopped moving after about thirty seconds.

Two arrived, one with the scissors who shaved the horse’s mane and another who gave it the vaccine.

Having done this, Breogán released the horse and hugged Campio and Xes with a smile. They did it.

Brais was overwhelmed. He didn’t know this was happening after the foals left. They were immobilizing his herd one by one, cutting the strength of their hair. He saw the humans jumping on Xurxo, who fought them for five minutes, but they didn’t stop. They had a strategy, and it worked. No matter that Xurxo kicked five humans in the process, they won, even him.

Xurxo was the one who told him last year about his mother. It was an accident, he said. She fell, and the other horses ran over her from lack of space. It was chaos.

It was chaos, Brais now understood. But it made him angrier. Why to have it in the first place? He thought.

Then someone jumped on him.

He neighed, ran, kicked, and struggled, but the human pulled on his mane. Another came from the right, and reaching as if to hug him, Brais bit his arm. Blood sprayed out. The human punched his nose, blinding him in pain. But Bais didn’t stop. He continued struggling and kicking both hind legs. He sent the human from his back flying forward.

Breogán hit a horse flat with his body and spilled onto the ground head-first. Getting up, he saw the horse that sent him flying. He smiled. That was a beast. It was young, not even branded yet, but solid and beautiful. Light-brown pelt was shining from sweat, and a long blond mane covered its neck.

Dizzy as he was, Breogán got up and wove his way to the young horse. He jumped on him again, grabbing his golden mane, but the horse jumped and lifted his front hooves into the air, sending Breogán to the ground. His back hit the ground he lost his breath.

Everything seemed calm around him. He watched the horse, afraid and nervous, struggling to break free while he saw the Aleitadores doing exactly what would make it even more afraid.

He got up again, not feeling his body anymore, figuring all that kept him standing was his adrenaline. He Walked to the horse and brushed his right hand through its wet neck.

“What are you doing?!” Xes shouted at him, but he heard it like a whisper.

“Shhh, you’re afraid. And probably angry.” Breogán continued caressing its face and mane, looking into its big eyes. “It’s going to pass.”

“Give me the scissors,” he called to the Aleitadores, who passed them to him. Calmed, he shaved the beautiful mane of the horse one cut at a time.

“Now you won’t have parasites.”

The vaccine was handed to him, “now you won’t have diseases.” he said as he used the vaccine.

“They will come with the brand now, but although it hurts, this will pass as well.”

The human calmed Brais down. He was afraid but knew there was nowhere to go, only past this. He was angry, but taking it out on the humans would not help him. It won’t bring his mother back. Now, he was just sad. There was nothing to do, nowhere to be, so he stayed in place.

Then they brought a metal that he could see its heat.

The human continued caressing him, but Brais didn’t want this to touch him.

There’s nothing to do, nowhere to be. Just here, now, in this.

He felt a searing pain on the side of his body and thought about his mother.

After a few seconds, it passed, the humans left, and the human in front of him kissed his nose and went away.

Brais could see the order in the chaos now.

After three days of the herd being shaved, vaccinated, and branded, the humans led it back to the mountains.

Another year of liberty started, but Brais won’t be waiting for resisting this year. He would be waiting for tradition, for ritual.