The Black Horse

Ceilawynn's mare, Mouse, had fallen during a desperate pursuit. The mare had been shot. Stumbled, but still managed to carry her mistress at break-neck pace, forward, until Tarsorel could grab the girl and pull her onto his horse before Mouse buckled and fell  behind.

The chase was too sensational for the small deed of the mare to be noticed, but Ryheric knew horses. When the story was told to him by the girl in tears, Ryheric knew Mouse had been a hero.

The arrow was fatal to the mare in the end. Nonetheless, the beast made sure she arrived through the gates of the White City. She should have fallen many strides before. Instead, it was behind heavy closed gates and dozens of men-at-arms, where Ceilawynn was safe, that the mare Mouse drew her last breath. She died with her mistress's tears falling on her cheek, and Ceilawynn's arms around her neck. This didn't matter to anyone, much. Except Ceilawynn. The last moment of her mare's life was one of rest, dignity and peace. Small things Ceilawynn was able to give to her equine companion, despite how quickly it all happened.

It had been many months since Ryheric had seen his own horse, Boltin. The chestnut stallion had been lost in the wilderness before they had re-grouped in Aldburg. Every day, since, Ryheric had thought about him. But the wilderness of Rohan was an enormous place, and the people were wary at best, hostile at worst, to a man of Ryheric's ... countenance.

Gondor had been a blur. He had delivered the letter Nunen had given him back in Bree, at long last. He still thought of his unlikely tutor, often. She had honed in him the gift of reading and writing. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost Taph. He heard she had come looking for him, after the fighting. No one knew where she'd gone. 

Leaving Gondor, like the rest of his experiences in that country, was difficult. It was only made possible when Ceilawynn gave him a horse under the secret watch of the stars.

The colt was dark. So dark he would blend in with the night like a secret. Ryheric looked over the beast and knew he was sound, and finely built. A horse bred by the Rohirrim.

Ceilawynn watched them make their acquaintance as the newly broken colt examined the man by smell. She gave a sad smile, and told Ryheric the colt was out of Mouse.

After many more trials and a great deal of lying low, Son of Mouse (Ryheric secretly fancied his name was Kacis, "Escape", though none knew this except the horse) took Ryheric all the way back to the west, to Breeland. Long months and countless miles had passed since Ryheric had seen his friends who now stayed in Gondor. Or his horse, Boltin, lost and hopefully alive, wandering feral somewhere in the lush fields of Rohan.

Now he waited in a green field himself, for the advice from the horse-healer. Ryheric stubbornly decided he would stay here until the colt was brought back to health.