war-bow

In his right hand he held the war-bow and in his left the ankh, for life and death were his to dispense.

The Seventh Scroll Smith, Wilbur 1995

No one here seems to know the composition of this electrum wire that binds the stock of the war-bow that this man is making for me. '

River God Smith, Wilbur, 1933- 1993

Ailnoth had passed by in the evening like a black arrow from a war-bow, so blind, so deaf that he had neither seen Brother Cadfael nor heard his greeting, called clearly into a brazen frost that rang like bells.

The Raven In The Foregate Peters, Ellis, 1913-1995 1986

Artemis is here — gold-armored goddess of the hunt, her war-bow in her hand, ready and eager to spill gallons of human blood as the first step toward avenging the injury to her beloved brother, Apollo.

Ilium Simmons, Dan 1981

He took up his mighty war-bow and the full quiver of heavy arrows -- full-feathered and pointed with savagely barbed, tearing heads of forged steel -- and slipped into their sheaths the long and heavy razor-sharp sword and the double-edged dirk, which he had made and ground long since for he knew not what emergency, and whose bell-shaped hilts of steel further protected his hands and wrists.

Spacehounds of IPC 1927

Each drew his string from its waterproof case and bent the huge arc of his war-bow as he fitted it into the nocks.

Sir Nigel Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 1906

He had sprung from his horse, and with a downward wrench of his arm and a push with his knee he slipped the string into the upper nock of his mighty war-bow.

Sir Nigel Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 1906

I can shoot three hundred and fifty paces with my little popper there, and four hundred and twenty with the great war-bow; yet I can make nothing of this, nor read my own name if you were to set 'Sam Aylward' up against me.

The White Company Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 1902

"Stop him, or we are undone!" cried Du Guesclin, and had started to run, when Aylward's great war-bow twanged like a harp-string, and the man fell forward upon his face, with twitching limbs and clutching fingers.

The White Company Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 1902

I can shoot three hundred and fifty paces with my little popper there, and four hundred and twenty with the great war-bow; yet I can make nothing of this, nor read my own name if you were to set 'Sam Aylward' up against me.

The White Company Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 1902