Where now, the Horse and the Rider?

The young boy heard this phrase frequently, mentioned by visiting  travelers and vendors. "Rohan is weak, it's King subject to the will of the White Hand and barely able to protect its borders, let alone keep raiding Dunlendings at bay!", they said. Coming of age in the southern Eastfold, not far from Gondor and in the shadow of Halifirien, determination sprung forth in his mind. I have a Horse and I am a Rider!

In his late teens Marancil traveled north, away from the Kings influence, away from the bitter words of travelers. The Norcrofts and Cliving became his home, where Rohirrim were common and skirmishes against orchs and easterlings the anvil against which the young riders tempered their steel. Tall and fierce he grew, loyal to friend and merciless to enemy. 

Exploring the Entwash and saving the Mearas from raiding orchs many times, friendship grew between man and steeds. On one occasion a stallion, white as snow and most likely a sibling to Shadowfax himself, was cornered by a raid party and almost killed but for the raging swings of Marancil's sword, setting him free from his captors. Trampling orchs on his way, the young steed followed Marancil and, in the way Horses and Rohan Riders are bound, swore allegiance to his saviour and was given the name Zaracar. Since then, few Rohirrim matched the pair in speed and lesser still in combat.

Behold! A Horse and a Rider!