Arbalest, Legend of the Horn, is about an evil lord, an orphaned prince, a stallion of prophecy, and a weapon of magic that derives its power from the moon, all vital components in the creation of the most elusive creature of the imagination, the unicorn.


During the siege of Castle Ahryz, an infant prince is rescued by a servant and a trusted guard. The prince is raised as a peasant. Years later, after their home is plundered by minions of the evil King Luther, the prince is thrust upon the path to regain his kingdom.

Prince Jerrod acquires a mysterious silvery white stallion, whom he names Arbalest, and he, and several loyal to his cause, set out to claim the throne that is his by right. The attempt is thwarted. As they flee, Jerrod is mortally wounded. Unconscious, he has a vision of the legendary Horn.

Healed by what is looked upon as a miracle, Jerrod comes to believe that only the Horn has the power to defeat Luther. He and his companions set out in quest of the mysterious castle said to be the Horn’s sanctuary.

Nearly consumed in a blizzard, they are led to the castle through the unerring senses of Arbalest. But soon after, Jerrod discovers the magic he so deeply desires to possess is not without consequence.




Excerpt- Arbalest, Legend of the Horn
©Copyright 2013, Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

“My family, my dearest friends, the people of Crannog, Death has taken them all, and Luther is to blame.”

Jerrod reaches across his shoulder to retrieve the Horn. A radiant blue illuminates the chamber as he draws it from the sheath of leather. His hold upon the hilt is tight, increasing the potency of the force that flows through him. An aura forms and his eyes take on the hue of the power he wields.

“Luther! I will avenge this madness!” thrusting the Horn before an imaginary image of the evil lord. Rage prevents him from seeing the consequence of his action as a stream of blue light burns a lasting trail into the cold granite of the chamber.

“Prince! Pray thee! Lay down the Horn! Your control is not yet seasoned!” Phelan pleads, “Stop, or you will kill us all!”

Fear chills the Master Keeper’s heart and the hearts of Morley and the servants as they cower in the farthest corner of the room.

“Hear me, Luther!” Jerrod demands, “I swear to you, and to Death himself! Vengeance is mine!”


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