The Custer Legacy is epic in scope, part historical novel, and part mystery thriller. First, it takes you back, briefly but memorably, to the 1520’s Mexico: the Mexico of Cortez, Montezuma, and the Aztecs. There, a magnificent Toledo sword and Aztec wonder drug are both lost in the heat of battle, seemingly for all times.

But re-appear they do: in the western United States of the late 1860’s, shortly after the Civil War has ended. Then come the stirring adventures of Clayton Forrester, a former Confederate Cavalry officer, and Kevin McCarthy, a colorful Irish immigrant who pursues the beautiful Catherine Gerot even as he attempts to carve a fortune out of a savage, danger-filled frontier.

Also present are such larger-than-life figures as George Armstrong Custer, Sitting Bull, and the Sioux cavalry genius Crazy Horse. Novelist/Historian Bruce T. Clark presents great western battles such as the Wagon Box Fight, Siege at Beecher’s Island, and Custer’s Last Stand with painstaking authenticity as well as a marvelous brand of runaway excitement.

In the final, equally exciting section of the novel, Clark brings the action up to the twentieth century. Here, Vatican-sponsored investigators discover that the key to the Aztec enigma is intertwined with a legendary hoard of gold that was lost after Custer’s Little Bighorn defeat. The detectives, however, are not the only ones searching for the twin treasures. Pitted against them are murderous agents of two other organizations, both intent on recovering the gold, and the even greater prize that awaits those who control the world’s medical future.

Bruce T. Clark a Who’s Who Historian, has had a sixty year love affair with America’s past. He has been a teacher, lecturer, and radio talk show host since his return from military service in 1962. Prior to leg amputation in 1994, he was a six-handicap golfer. "I always found time for golf," he muses, "but never seemed to have enough time to share any of the historical mystery stories that have crowded into my imagination for so long. I hope people think I’m a good storyteller, because I’ve become a lousy golfer." A growing legion of avid fans are hopeful that the Custer Legacy is only the first of many exciting mystery/history novels.

Mr. Clark and his wife of thirty-nine years, Dr. Mary Kay Clark, the founder and director of Seton Home Study School, are the proud parents of seven sons, and grandparents of seventeen. They all reside in the historically rich Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.

He limped cautiously along the rough, uneven, cobblestone street. He did not seem to be an old man, yet he moved with the halting, arthritic gait so common to the elderly. As he neared the end of the street, he paused in the shadows of an ancient building and looked about furtively. He was glad to stop, even for a moment. The pain emanating from the wound he had suffered two days earlier was becoming unbearable.

Thank God, he thought, once I cross the square, I'll be safe.

He was a man of medium height and indeterminate years. Over the past few weeks, the travel and the pain, but most of all the stress from constant danger, had stripped away much of his excess flesh, giving him a gaunt, almost cadaverous appearance. A broad-brimmed hat, together with the equally dark cloak that hung so loosely about him, might have attracted attention anywhere else in the world, but now served only to mark him as one who belonged in this place. His anguished eyes, looking out of a face ashen with fatigue, peered nervously at each stranger approaching along the narrow thoroughfare.

How curious, he mused, that his journey should end on this day of all days. How strange that June 25, had been important in so many other years, since the very beginning of the mystery on June 25, 1520. Long ago, when he accepted the assignment and began fitting the pieces of scant haphazard information together, it had seemed like an impossible challenge. As he unearthed scores of additional facts, he discovered that not a single one of his predecessors had ever returned, or even been heard from again. Had it not been for God's guidance, he would surely have met a similar fate and the secret might have remained hidden forever, just as the Old Ones intended. He wondered if any of the others had survived long enough to learn the ancient secret. It will bring great good to the world, he thought, just as in the wrong hands; it has wrought such terrible suffering.

When he found the second treasure, he believed it was a great stroke of good fortune, but the discovery had brought a new force of vicious enemies into the chase. Several times in the past few weeks, both his enemies, as eager to foil each other as they were to stop him, had nearly succeeded in their attempts to learn the secrets that only he possessed, or failing that, to simply kill him. Each time he had managed to escape and elude pursuit.

To reassure himself, he reached into his heavy canvas pack and touched an object that held the key to a centuries-old enigma. As he withdrew his hand, a cold chill of foreboding made him shiver. How foolish, he thought; premonitions of impending doom should be reserved for superstitious old women.

By sheer force of will, he pushed himself erect, shouldered his bag, and leaving the security of the shadows, resumed his painful trudging walk, still glancing fretfully about him as he crossed the crowded, sunlit square. After what seemed to him a very long way, he reached the opposite side and paused beside a gate, a gate that meant the end of his long but successful journey.

He reached forward to ring the bell, but as he did, he saw an ominous shadow and suddenly felt a sharp pain rip into his back. Filled with utter disappointment and frustration, he pitched forward as the remaining strength drained from his tortured body, his arms too weak to cushion his fall. In an instant, his pack was roughly ripped from his shoulder. Over the thunderous roaring in his ears, he heard a new sound, the rush of approaching footsteps. With his last ounce of strength, he turned his head and looked up into the concerned face of a Swiss Guard. With his last conscious breath, Antonio Garza whispered, "Tell the Cardinal I found it."