Book 1 Excerpts – THE LEGEND OF THE GREAT HORSE trilogy

“Knights need horse!”

“Henryk looked up with a new light in his eyes. Meagan softened. Perhaps, she thought charitably, the horse’s lop ears did not hang out of laziness. Perhaps the white blaze across his forehead made him look simpler than he really was.” —excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1 of ‘The Legend of the Great Horse’ trilogy (p. 230)

Medieval Horsetrading c. 1240 AD…

The man seemed to be having difficulty waking his enormous horse, and finally resorted to kneeing him in the side. The horse grunted and raised his head. “Ach, see! Much the calm horse!” Gathering that Meagan was still unimpressed, the trader bore his attention down on the young knight. Great gestures accompanied an inventory of the horse’s virtues, given while Henryk ran a hand down each of the horse’s stovepipe legs and nodded appreciatively.

“Henryk,” Meagan complained, “this horse would be much too slow.”

The trader wagged a finger. “Fraulein, bitte! Of course, knight he needs such horse. How so he conquest Tournament St. John and no horse?”

Henryk looked up with a new light in his eyes. Meagan softened. Perhaps, she thought charitably, the horse’s lop ears did not hang out of laziness. Perhaps the white blaze across his forehead made him look simpler than he really was.

“Ach! Der holzkopf!” the trader screamed as the huge animal settled on his foot. After being slapped repeatedly, the horse removed his hoof reluctantly, as if being deprived of a soft place to stand. The trader recovered and patted the horse’s shoulder as if nothing had happened. Tears stood in his eyes.

Henryk crossed his arms, still nodding in approval.

“Henryk,” she pleaded, “remember we have no money.”

“Fraulein, bitte. Pleasing.” The trader spread his arms. “Knights need horse.”

Meagan walked around the huge beast. The horse’s eyes were small in his coarse, heavy head. His throatlatch was undefined and the upright “mutton” shoulders meant he would offer an uncomfortable, jarring trot. “No Henryk, I think you can do better.”

“The horse from this finest bloodlines!” the trader insisted with a flourish. “His fathers have sweep this infidel from Holies Lands! Ach! See the chest, it is large—so! This animal can carry too much weight. He stop at nothing.”

“He is about to fall over asleep. Henryk, please warn the man about the Tatars, and we should go.”

But Henryk was stroking the horse’s nose with growing confidence. The animal’s eyes were half-closed and he was beginning to doze. Seeing the knight’s interest, the trader dismissed Meagan. “Now we set price,” the man said firmly. The trader’s eyes alighted greedily upon Henryk’s garment of chain mail, and the two began negotiating in earnest…

Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1 of the trilogy) won national awards including the Eric Hoffer Award for best Young Adult Fiction, and the Mom’s Choice Award for best family-friendly Young Adult Fantasy.

« “The devils ride a tainted bayard!” || See all Excerpts »

The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy is an adventure through history … each section is about a different time period. The above excerpt is from “Home,” the 1st section of Eclipsed by Shadow, set in modern-day California.

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“The devils ride a tainted bayard!”

Panic began pooling in Meagan’s chest. If these people were not going to surrender, she had to escape. A thought came to her … if she could only get close enough to Targa. “I don’t know about the Tatar men,” she answered innocently. “But their horses have a weak spot. I could show you. Take me to any horse with a bridle on it, say … oh, the pony I was riding would be perfect. For a demonstration, I mean.” —excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1 of ‘The Legend of the Great Horse’ trilogy (p. 201)

The following is an excerpt from “Eclipsed by Shadow”: Meagan and her Mongolian warpony Targa are captive in a medieval town (1240 AD in modern-day Russia) she was trying to warn of impending attack by the army of Genghis Khan (called ‘Tatars’ by Europeans).

*The odd language is Old English: ‘ferly’ means ‘strange’ and ‘Bayard’ is medieval slang for horse … Bayard was a bay horse in medieval French poetry who could magically adjust its size to carry multiple riders.

Panic began pooling in Meagan’s chest. If these people were not going to surrender, she had to escape. A thought came to her … if she could only get close enough to Targa. “I don’t know about the Tatar men,” she answered innocently. “But their horses have a weak spot. I could show you. Take me to any horse with a bridle on it, say … oh, the pony I was riding would be perfect. For a demonstration, I mean.”

“So, the devils ride a tainted bayard! Oh, ho! ‘Tis ferly never to have heard so.” The man reached for his goblet. “Tell on.”

Meagan breathed easier, pleased with herself. She would only need a head start. “It is a place on their horses’ neck. If an arrow hits it, the horse—I mean bayard—dies instantly. I can show you. It would be better to do it outside the city, really. We will need some room.”

“Nay, the courtyard below will serve. And we shall use your own Tatar bayard.” Juices ran into the man’s beard as he chewed his food. “My archers will aim where you show us and we shall see how it dies.”

Meagan choked on her drink.

“How is this? I think you be glad to see the foul animal die!” The man leaned closer. “If you be a Tatar prisoner, as so you say.”

“Well, of course I am,” she sputtered, red-faced. “I … I was just disappointed the animal is still alive. The sooner she is eaten by crows, the sooner I can forget everything.” She smiled weakly.

“Better this,” the man grunted, and motioned to a guard. “Find the alien’s bayard. To-luggid hither to the courtyard.”

A horn sounded from below. It was taken up in quadrants all around the city, until the rooftop platform was surrounded by a chorus of trumpeting. The Englishman rushed to the railing and began shouting orders.

Meagan followed the confusion to the platform’s edge. Knights were pouring out of the city gates below; already the fields were filled with their color. In the distance, on the edge of the horizon, a black flood could be seen flowing through the trees.

“They take not our answer.” The Englishman gazed in satisfaction. “They shall see our manner of surrender.”

« “The War Horses” || “Knights need horse!” »

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The War Horses

Horn answered horn throughout the camps. A rippling change went through the horse nation. The few not yet mounted swung aboard. Meagan’s group moved out. The camp leaders rode ahead, each holding a blazing torch. – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)

Hast thou given the horse strength?
Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?
Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper?
The glory of his nostrils is terrible.
He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength.
He goeth on to meet the armed men.
He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted;
neither turneth he back from the sword.
The quiver rattleth against him,
the glittering spear and the shield.
He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage…

– Holy Bible, Job 39:19-24

MEAGAN SENSED EXCITEMENT in the camp. An undercurrent ran through the people and the horses pranced nervously. Throwing her saddle pad over Targa, she saw something had been added: an odd-looking pole now hung from a loop of leather on her saddle. Then she saw the sharp point and realized she had been given a spear.

Leaders rode through the lines of horses, each with a string of knives hanging from one arm. Meagan took one and examined it, confused. The others were sliding theirs into belt pouches. It seemed a dangerous place to carry a knife, but she did the same.

Horn answered horn throughout the camps. A rippling change went through the horse nation. The few not yet mounted swung aboard. Meagan’s group moved out. The camp leaders rode ahead, each holding a blazing torch.

The pitch of the horns was changing, signaling back and forth down the black mass of horsemen covering the plain. The tight lines of the nomads were dissolving into chaos, melting and running in streaks. Horses were breaking from easy canters into full gallops. When the call reached Meagan’s group, Targa sprang forward, her legs stretching in exhilaration of the run…

« “The Poet Gladiator” || “The devils ride a tainted bayard!” »

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A Poet Gladiator

Horace rubbed his face and looked at the morning sky. His profile was clean and unblemished. With quiet conviction he recited, “And yet more bright shines out the Julian star, as moon outglows each lesser light…” – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)

“The driver listens to no one. Fame has deafened his ears.” Horace stepped into the early morning sun. His marred face was ugly in the naked light and Meagan fought her urge to step back. He led her a short distance away from the gates and lowered his voice. “If you are planning to escape you will have no interference from me.”

“I am not, Horace, I promise. I just want to help the horses.” She saw his quizzical look and corrected herself. “Help the Emperor, I mean.”

“Good. Helping the Emperor cannot be wrong. It can even bring you freedom.” Puffed from sleep, the man’s pale gaze was unnerving. “You are different than other women, Meagan. I want to ask…” His voice became carefully impassive. “What will you do if you receive freedom? Will you go home?”

“I don’t know.” Quick tears formed which she wiped away. “Sometimes I don’t think so.”

Horace rubbed his face and looked at the morning sky. His profile was clean and unblemished. With quiet conviction he recited, “And yet more bright shines out the Julian star, as moon outglows each lesser light…”

“That is nice, Horace. What is a Julian star?”

“The moon at its fullest. Or, one who outshines.”

“Where did you learn it?”

“My mother. She believed in education.”

“My parents did, too.” She hurried to change the subject from home. “How old are you, if you don’t mind?”

“An old man. I have twenty years.”

“That isn’t old, Horace. You be anything.”

“And I would be, now. ‘A good scare is worth more than good advice.’”

She nodded. “I understand that. I really do.”

“That quote was the real Horace,” he said softly. “Quintus Horatius Flaccus, the favorite poet of Emperor Augustus. I was named after him. Rome wants another Horace, my mother used to say.”

“Your mother sounds very sweet. I think it’s nice to be named after a poet.”

“Thank you. I didn’t used to be so courteous about it. ‘Adversity draws out talent,’ my mother said to me, over and over. I found my own favorite lines. ‘Seize the day!’ I told her when I left for the legions. Wasn’t I a bright boy?” He gave a dry laugh. “Father approved of the legions. Men of honor find their reward, father said. Homer was his man.” He lifted his face again to the sky. “‘A vase is begun—why, as the wheel goes round, does it turn out a pitcher?’”

« “The Arena” || “War Horses” »

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The Arena

There was everywhere and nowhere to run. People scattered before the galloping horses and their bristling chariots of bronze. Meagan leapt out of the path of an oncoming team. Hooves pounded across her footprints. – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)

This excerpt is from Eclipsed by Shadow, Book #1 of The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy, an adventure through history―on horseback.

The scene is set in ancient Rome (100 AD): Meagan is trapped with prisoners in the Coliseum…

The peculiar vices of this city, it seems to me, are conceived almost in the mother’s womb … a passion for gladiators and horses.

—Cornelius Tacitus (c. 55 – 120) Roman historian

THE WOODEN DOORS groaned back together behind them. Points of spears filled the narrowing gap as it closed.

New gates opened, tall iron-banded doors that swept outward. The cheering was too loud for any other sound to be heard, but Meagan felt a familiar rumbling. Her stomach chilled to icy jelly as horses thundered from the gates in teamed pairs.

The dazed woman looked up to the sky, thin arms outstretched. Meagan saw a chariot bearing down on her, and she screamed into the crowd’s roar as the woman went under hooves and iron-sheathed wheels.

There was everywhere and nowhere to run. People scattered before the galloping horses and their bristling chariots of bronze. Meagan leapt out of the path of an oncoming team. Hooves pounded across her footprints.

Others tried to climb the smooth mortar walls, but spectators beat them back. A chariot rode along the inside wall, sparks and masonry flying where its spiked wheel made contact. One man climbed high enough to clutch the arm of a spectator—the crowd tossed both over the wall. A woman from the stands threw herself onto the netting, writhing in the passion of bloodlust.

Meagan saw a chariot fishtail, throwing plumes of sand as it straightened towards her. She turned and ran blindly, hearing the thundering gallop grow distinct from the crowd’s noise as the chariot gained.

« “The Scythian Tomb” || “The Poet Gladiator” »

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The Scythian Tomb

Meagan expected the horses to whirl away, erupting in stampede. She scrambled to avoid being trampled and was stopped by a wall of packed earth. But no horse wheeled and ran, no horse gave alarm. All stood in rigid silence, immobile, and she did the same. – Eclipsed by Shadow excerpt

This excerpt is from Eclipsed by Shadow, Book #1 of The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy, an adventure through history―on horseback.

The scene is set in 700 BC: Meagan flees a chariot-led attack and finds refuge …

Wherever man has left his footprint in the long ascent from barbarism, we will find the hoof print of the horse beside it.

—John Trotwood Moore (1852-1929)

Meagan expected the horses to whirl away, erupting in stampede. She scrambled to avoid being trampled and was stopped by a wall of packed earth. But no horse wheeled and ran, no horse gave alarm. All stood in rigid silence, immobile, and she did the same.

Shadows from smoking torches shifted as she stared through the gloom. Each horse’s tail was tightly wrapped and each mane was pulled short. Crude, stirrup-less saddles made of stuffed pillows were held in place by a girth, breast collar and crupper. The horses’ heads were topped with headdresses made of leather or fur, spouting feathers and links of gold. The effect was garish and otherworldly.

All the animals obediently faced the same direction. Very well behaved, she thought, impressed with the horsemanship. In the middle of the dim room, two horses flanked a kind of carriage, harnessed with roughly cut straps across their narrow chests. Only a few horses had riders; these sat mounted, staring ahead … but no one acknowledged her.

Meagan looked carefully around her. The walls enclosed a space the size of small warehouse. A rank, sickly sweet smell permeated the air. Wisps of smoke from the torches rose and disappeared into the round shaft above.

Uneven light and moving shadows made it hard to see clearly. Meagan moved towards one of the horses. She reached out and stroked its hindquarters as she tried to study the carriage more closely. Though it was in the darkest part of the room, she could see two wheels and a light cab, like a trotter’s buggy. The cart was made of wood and the sides were mounted with gold decorations of griffins, eagles and predator cats.

It could almost be the inside of a kind of a tomb, Meagan thought. She swallowed, thinking it seemed recently finished, if so. The torches had not even gone out…

« “The First Ride” || “The Arena” »

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The First Ride

The herd’s stallion trotted fretfully around the edges of his band. A stallion may choose his group but he is not the boss. Equine society is based on friendships and roles—the stallion was waiting for the group’s leader to make a decision, and he wished she would hurry. – Eclipsed by Shadow (excerpt)

A prehistoric horse herd-inspection…

“It’s all right,” Meagan calmly told the wary circle of horses. She moved slowly as individual horses stepped closer to sniff suspiciously. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She stroked the gray mare’s neck to show her good intentions.

The herd’s stallion trotted fretfully around the edges of his band. A stallion may choose his group but he is not the boss. Equine society is based on friendships and roles—the stallion was waiting for the group’s leader to make a decision, and he wished she would hurry.

The actual chief was a squat sorrel mare. She paced around Meagan with tight steps, her head held stiff and high. She was not pleased. Yes, this noisy pale monkey was interesting, mildly, taking a predator’s position to do nothing but gurgle. But the mare was impatient. She had a specific destination in mind today, a sheltered area with quality grass. The clinging creature was plainly too clumsy to be a concern, so perhaps a good day’s grazing could still be had.

To Meagan’s relief the sorrel mare snorted and swung around. The stallion moved to the rear as the herd fell into a brisk trot.

“Really, I won’t be any trouble,” Meagan assured the horses as they moved off, patting her mount’s coarse neck. The little mare flattened her ears and crow-hopped.

« “Mrs. Bridgestone” || “The Scythian Tomb” »

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Mrs. Bridgestone

‘The elderly woman’s smile mapped lines across her pale features. Her silver hair was pulled back to reveal a strand of white pearls looped over a simple charcoal dress. “I am Mrs. Bridgestone, and you must be Jennifer. It is so good of you to come.” The woman smiled knowingly at Meagan. “I believe your daughter and I have already met.” ’ —excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1 of ‘The Legend of the Great Horse’ trilogy (p. 1)

“Do you believe in legends, dear?”

“Welcome,” a quavering voice greeted them, brave in the vast space.

Meagan gave a little exclamation and whispered, “Mom, I do know her.”

“Come in, please. I am so happy you could join me.” Thin, withered hands motioned to a facing couch. “Nelson, please show them in.” Jennifer grasped Meagan’s hand firmly as the butler led them into the room.

The elderly woman’s smile mapped lines across her pale features. Her silver hair was pulled back to reveal a strand of white pearls looped over a simple charcoal dress. A bejeweled cane leaned against the arm of the couch. “I am Mrs. Bridgestone, and you must be Jennifer. It is so good of you to come.” The woman smiled knowingly at Meagan. “I believe your daughter and I have already met.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bridgestone,” Jennifer said graciously. “My daughter did not tell me you two were acquainted.”

“We met on a delightful occasion last summer. How is your beautiful young horse, dear child? I won’t make the mistake of saying ‘pony’ again.”

Meagan was about to say the horse was fine, thank you, when her mother interrupted. “We sold her two weeks ago,” Jennifer said firmly. “We had an offer too good to pass up.”

Meagan looked at her mother in surprise.

“Yes, so I understand. I was sorry to hear that.” The old woman looked past her guests and motioned to the butler. He carried forward a silver tea service.

Jennifer kept her smile fixed. “Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Bridgestone. Though I must say, I am confused about the nature of this meeting.”

“Of course you are, dear. Allow me time to explain.” The elderly woman waited as the tea was poured, accepting her cup with a polite murmur. “I am afraid, Jennifer, that by the end of this meeting you will quite think me a crazy old lady.”

« “Meagan” || “The First Ride” »

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Meagan

“Horses had been Meagan’s life since she had first been lifted onto Moose’s broad back. Her books were horse books; her toys, horse toys. Riding lessons and a pony were all Meagan wished for on birthdays and Christmases. Every conversation included horses.” —excerpted from Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1 of ‘The Legend of the Great Horse’ trilogy (p. 20)

Her books were horse books;
her toys, horse toys.

Horses had been Meagan’s life since she had first been lifted onto Moose’s broad back. Her books were horse books; her toys, horse toys. Riding lessons and a pony were all Meagan wished for on birthdays and Christmases. Every conversation included horses.

To answer her daughter’s passion, Jennifer had arranged for three instructors. The first had been Jennifer’s own father, who spent summers teaching his eager granddaughter the nature of the animal and its care. Though Meagan enjoyed Western riding she longed to jump, so an Old School, cavalry-type drill sergeant was found, an instructor with a reputation for turning out tough, disciplined riders with classical basics. After watching one drill session, Tom was sure his daughter would give up riding altogether.

Meagan did more than survive the cavalryman, however: she thrived. Difficult horses were given to her and she succeeded, and steadily moved up the competition levels. In time, Meagan attracted the attention of a prominent trainer. The man’s credentials included international competition and the coaching of two former Olympians. He became Meagan’s trainer that afternoon.

One week later her father lost his job.

Jennifer knew why Tom put his foot down. Money was scarce and horses could be only a small part of the new budget. But Tom never understood, not really. To him, once Meagan was out of pigtails and able to steer a horse, riding lessons had diminished value. It was Jennifer who understood what horsemanship demanded and the values it instilled.

« See all Excerpts || “Mrs. Bridgestone” »

The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy is an adventure through history … each section is about a different time period.

The above excerpt is from “Home,” the 1st section of Eclipsed by Shadow, set in modern-day California. (p. 20 Hbk)

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» See All Excerpts from The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy.

» Read the 1st Chapter online.

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Eclipsed by Shadow (Book #1) excerpt: The Tournament Knight

This excerpt is from Eclipsed by Shadow, Book #1 of The Legend of the Great Horse trilogy, an adventure through history―on horseback.

The scene is set in 1240, Eastern Europe, when Meagan first discovers she is riding with the Mongolian army of Genghis Khan.

“The great art of riding,” the Knight began in a loud voice,
waving his right hand as he spoke “is to keep…”
Here the sentence ended as suddenly as it began,
as the Knight fell heavily on top of his head
exactly in the path where Alice was walking.

– Lewis Carrol (1832-98) Through the Looking Glass

Qualifying rounds took place in the outer fields, where the tilting courts took all comers. It was Henryk’s chance, and Meagan did everything she could to help. Chouchou had never been sleeker and his old saddle had been soaped and oiled into new life. Looking at Henryk sitting on Chouchou, his blond head sticking out from borrowed chain mail that hung in loops, Meagan felt the glow of a horse show mother.

“Here, Henryk,” she said, handing up his shield. “And remember to keep your heels down. That’s why you keep losing your stirrups.” She took a dilapidated lance with peeling paint from where it leaned against a tree.

“Merci, Meagan.” Henryk adjusted the lance so it stood straight in the air, balanced on its stirrup rest.

There was only one thing left to do, and Meagan tried once more to persuade Henryk against it. “Do we have to, Henryk? It just seems so … well, stupid.”

“Tak! Meagan, please the foldblind.”

Meagan looked out over the fields filled with blindfolded horses. There was no barrier between the contestants as there would be in later years of the joust. At this point in history, two knights simply rode their blindfolded mounts together with all possible speed.

“It is just so dangerous, Henryk.” Chouchou scratched his massive head against Meagan as she tied the blindfold over his eyes. “It looks silly, too.”