King Hereafter by Dorothy Dunnett (English) Paperback Book

Description: King Hereafter by Dorothy Dunnett From a superb storyteller comes an enthralling novel about Macbeth of Scotland - reissued with a brand new packageIt is the eleventh century, and Europe is full of young kings - some dreaming of new civilisation, some content to live as their forefathers have done, and all ceaselessly fighting, befriending or betraying one other.Such is the world of the real Macbeth, part Christian, part Viking, who has the imagination and determination to move himself and his people out of a barbarian past and into flowering nationhood. In this brilliant recreation of his life we see him as a man of extraordinary courage, wit and skill - utterly self-reliant yet profoundly in love with woman he marries - a pirate of the sea yet a prince with the foresight and passion to set him apart from other men. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Back Cover A storyteller who could teach Scheherazade a thing or two about pace, suspense and imaginative invention New York Times It is the eleventh century and in the isles of Orkney a young boy is born. He is named Thorfinn, baptized as Macbeth. To the north are the warring Vikings and south lies Alba - the Scottish mainland. Orkney is the prize in between, and an unlikely place from which a young man might launch a bid as ruler of a united Scotland. Yet Thorfinn is unlike other men. He has a warriors courage and the wiliness of the underdog. By his side stands his wife Groa, as shrewd and valiant as her husband. Together they will navigate the treacherous waters of the new millennium, uniting a divided nation and birthing a legend that will survive a thousand years. Thorfinn Macbeth will be King Hereafter . . . Author Biography Frequently described as the finest historical fiction writer of her time, Dorothy Dunnett earned worldwide acclaim for her blend of scholarship and imagination. She is best known for her two superb series of historical fiction - The Lymond Chronicles and The House of Niccolo - set in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and ranging across Europe and the Mediterranean, and for King Hereafter, the eleventh-century story of Earl Thorfinn of Orkney whom Dorothy believed was also King Macbeth. In 1992, Dorothy Dunnett was awarded the OBE for her services to literature, and in 2014 Dunnetts most enduring hero, Francis Crawford of Lymond, was voted Scotlands favourite literary character - beating the likes of Sherlock Holmes, Harry Potter and Ivanhoe. Dunnett died 9 November 2001, having sold half a million copies internationally. Review A stunning revelation of the historical Macbeth, harsh and brutal and eloquent * Washington Post *One of the greatest tale-spinners since Dumas * Cleveland Plain Dealer *The novel that Dunnetts readers have been hoping for. A brilliant pageant * The Times *An extraordinary feat of creative imagination * Scotsman *Splendid * Glasgow Herald * Promotional From a superb storyteller comes an enthralling novel about Macbeth of Scotland - reissued with a brand new package. Review Text A stunning revelation of the historical Macbeth, harsh and brutal and eloquent Review Quote "A storyteller who could teach Scheherazade a thing or two." -- The New York Times "One of the greatest tale-spinners since Dumas." -- Cleveland Plain Dealer Promotional "Headline" From a superb storyteller comes an enthralling novel about Macbeth of Scotland - reissued with a brand new package Excerpt from Book ONE When the year one thousand came, Thorkel Amundason was five years old, and hardly noticed how frightened everyone was. By the time Canute ruled England, Thorkel was nineteen and had heard as much about the old scare as he wanted, from the naked lips of men who might be able to read and to write, but who wouldnt know one end of a longship from the other. He understood that folk had thought the Day of Judgement was coming, because a thousand years had passed since the White Christ was born, in that age when the Romans had conquered the world. All the world, that is, except for the north. The Romans had not conquered Denmark, or Norway, or Sweden. They had not conquered Ireland, or his own Orkney islands, or Iceland to his north. They had overcome England, beginning in the toe and pushing north until they stuck on the border of Alba and built their frontier wall there, stretching from sea to sea. The barbarians who followed the Romans had learned all about the White Christ by the time that Charlemagne and the Pope had formed their big new Empire over the ocean. The Vikings who followed the barbarians liked the old gods. Thorkel himself had always been partial to Thor. The priests had been amazed, so it was said, at the numbers who became tired of Thor as the year one thousand got nearer. Orkney declared for Christ overnight, followed by Iceland and all those bits of Norway the King could easily get at. Ireland and Alba, of course, had followed the Cross all along. Alba, that men later called Scotland. As a child, Thorkel Amundason had touched Alba often enough, on his fathers trading-ship going to Dublin, or as part of a young mans crew looking for booty in England. Alba he never attacked, nor did anyone else from Orkney or Norway. At the height of the Viking invasions, the King of Alba had found a way to buy peace. He had married his only daughter and heiress to the ruler of the Orkney islands, seven miles to his north, which long ago had been settled from Norway. And the baby born of that marriage he had made child-Earl of Caithness, his northernmost province, over which for uncountable years the Earls of Orkney and the Kings of Alba had squabbled. The Orkney-Alban marriage lasted only six years. And when the Earl of Orkney was killed and his widow went back to Alba and married again, it was Thorkel Amundason who was chosen to train and protect the half-Orkney child, their only offspring. Thorkel was twenty, then. Twenty, and ambitious. Twenty, and the only son of the greatest household in Orkney next to the Earls. For a while, the sight of Thorkel Amundason rearing a foster-son was the talk of Orkney. Girls who had good cause to know Thorkels precise views on parenthood scoffed to each other over the dye-pots. Their fathers and brothers said less. Then there came the day when one of the childs three older Earl-brothers died, and the other two suddenly noticed how openly critical Thorkel Amundason had become of their rule, and how keen to mention the rights of his fosterling, their half-Alban brother. The joint Earls of Orkney did not like it. You might say that Thorkel Amundason was grooming the child for a large share of Orkney. You might even say that King Malcolm of Alba was abetting him. Without warning, Orkney became a dangerous place for Thorkel Amundason. Thorkel removed himself and the child to Caithness and, from across seven miles of sea, continued his careful campaigning. When he made his next move, he was twenty-five: handsome, eloquent, energetic-a born leader, men said. They admired the way Thorkel handled his foster-son, not chastising him as some might when the child ran off to Alba from time to time to visit his mother. In any case, Thorkel was not the man to upset the King, the childs Alban grandfather. Thorkels next move, everyone agreed, was a predictable one. He removed from life one of the joint Earls of Orkney. The chain of events which led up to the deed was quite complex, and the head of Earl Einar was cut off, in the event, by somebody else; but Thorkel assumed full responsibility, having long before weighed all the consequences. Earl Einars tax-ridden subjects, he knew, would hardly blame him. Earl Einars surviving brother was not a man given to fighting. The King of. Norway, Orkneys occasional overlord, had fallen out with the dead Earl quite recently and wouldnt be hard on his murderer, provided that Thorkel got to court fast and explained himself. To do so, Thorkel Amundason duly slipped out of Orkney, consigned the boy to his mother in Alba, and took ship for the Norse court at Ndars, two sailing days to the east, on the north-western fringes of Norway. Of course, King Olaf of Norway was displeased with Thorkel Amundason. He showed his disapproval in a bluff way all that winter, and forced Thorkel to stay for two months at the home of some cousins before finally granting him guest-room at court. The reconciliation, when it came, was no more than Thorkel expected. He had worked hard at being agreeable. His cousins the Arnasons were favourites of the Norwegian King. The late joint Earl of Orkney was not a friend the King would feel drawn to mourn. Yule was over and spring lay ahead, and a carefree sail back home, bearing a reprimand and possibly one or two well-chosen gifts to stiffen his loyalty and that of his foster-son, the child-Earl of Caithness and Orkney. That was the plan, until the brat wrecked it. TWO But for the Festival of the Spring Sacrifice, it would never have happened. You could also blame the native stubbornness of the people round about Ndars. That is, while King Olaf and his court were intoning Easter Masses at one end of the sea inlet, the Festival of the Spring Sacrifice was preparing to get under way at the other. Hints of forthcoming revelry had come to Thorkel Amundasons ears, but he ignored them. His Norwegian cousins might whisper, but it was no business of his. He had suffered the herring of Lent, and the watery wine and the boredom of Bishop Grimkells Saxon Latin: atonement could require nothing more. Let the Arnasons whisper: they lived here. In two weeks he hoped to be gone: away from Norway and back to Caithness and his foster-son. Back to plan for the future in Orkney. Who told the King about the Festival of the Spring Sacrifice Thorkel did not discover, but he suspected his cousin Kalv Arnason. Kalv was short, and red-haired, and had no discretion. Everyone knew what winters in the north were like. After six months with his wife, no man still in his senses would miss the chance of exchanging his longfire for a week of feasting and trading, carousing and horse-fights and wenching, at the host-farm at the end of the fjord. It did no harm and kept everyone happy. Provided the King didnt hear of it. The King heard of it on his way into church for the first Mass of the day, when he was hungry. Following him with his retinue into the big timber building, Thorkel saw that something was wrong and hoped it need not concern him. Thorkel was ready to go home, although he had been well entertained and lacked for nothing away from the table. He had brought his own women with him, among the slaves of his travelling household, and had not had to lend them out more than he expected. He prided himself, too, on a little success with the wives of the court. Coming from Orkney, he was well travelled, and had better manners than some of their husbands. A wife was something he had never troubled to acquire for himself. No marriage, no legitimate sons could vouchsafe him such power as might this cross-bred Earl he was rearing for Orkney. At the end of Mass, the King got up like a fish on a line, and everyone rose. The King was thickset for a man of twenty-seven, and of no very great height, but he had been fighting since he was twelve years old and was still in the peak of condition. No one knew what his baptismal name had been. That had been given during his roaring Viking days in Spain and Friesland and Rouen until the dream sent him back: the dream that said, Return, and you shall be king of Norway for ever. And he had been King for four years, and kept his name, Olaf: the name of Norways first missionary king, who had done his converting, also, with an axe. The Kings guests, considerately attending Mass with him, had no idea what they were about to be let in for. Herded with the rest into the royal drinking-hall, Thorkel Amundason watched as the King strode to the steps of the High Chair and, turning, began to declaim. Then, with well-concealed resentment, he heard what the King had to say. The King intended that very day, he announced, to mount an expedition of his loyal and Christian subjects against those pagans of Sparbu and Eynar and Vaerdal and Skogn whose devilish rites were an offence against the White Christ and himself, as their overlord. With your help, my good Trondelagers, said the King, and with the help of your friends, we shall launch a fleet of the Blessed against the heathen that will give Freya something to weep for. Those who didnt have metal about them reached up with their knife-handles and banged the shields hung on the wall. Thorkel applauded by kicking a barrel. Within a week of his escape, he had to risk his life and a blood-feud by helping King Olaf kill farmers at Sparbu. Kalv his cousin was grinning. Kalv his red-headed cousin said, Why the frown, Thorkel? Everyone knows your skill with a sword. The late Earl Einar of Orkne Details ISBN071818579X Author Dorothy Dunnett Publisher Penguin Books Ltd Year 2017 ISBN-10 071818579X ISBN-13 9780718185794 Format Paperback Place of Publication London Country of Publication United Kingdom Birth 1923 Media Book Pages 880 DEWEY 823.914 Imprint Penguin Books Ltd Language English UK Release Date 2017-10-19 Publication Date 2017-10-19 Audience General NZ Release Date 2017-10-14 AU Release Date 2017-10-14 Alternative 9781405934411 We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:117004468;

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