{"product_id":"lady-macbeth-isbn-9780307341754","title":"Lady Macbeth","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom towering crags to misted moors and formidable fortresses,\u003ci\u003e Lady Macbeth\u003c\/i\u003e transports readers to the heart of eleventh-century Scotland, painting a bold, vivid portrait of a woman much maligned by history. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLady Gruadh—Rue—is the last female descendant of Scotland’s most royal line. Married to a powerful northern lord, she is widowed while still carrying his child and forced to marry her husband’s murderer: a rising warlord named Macbeth. As she encounters danger from Vikings, Saxons, and treacherous Scottish lords, Rue begins to respect the man she once despised. When she learns that Macbeth’s complex ambitions extend beyond the borders of the vast northern region, she realizes that only Macbeth can unite Scotland. But his wife’s royal blood is the key to his ultimate success.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDetermined to protect her son and a proud legacy of warrior kings and strong women, Rue invokes the ancient wisdom and secret practices of her female ancestors as she strives to hold her own in a warrior society. Finally, side by side as the last Celtic king and queen of Scotland, she and Macbeth must face the gathering storm brought on by their combined destiny.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eThis is Lady Macbeth as you’ve never seen her.“A compelling book, vividly realized with fascinating detail.”\u003cb\u003e—Rosalind Miles, international  bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eI, Elizabeth\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “Forget everything you ever knew about Lady Macbeth!\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003eThis the real deal, immediate and powerful. Combining fresh new scholarship with  a rare gift for storytelling, Susan Fraser King brings to life the true Scottish  Queen–brave, wise, and altogether enthralling.”\u003cb\u003e—Susan Holloway Scott, author of \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eDuchess: A Novel of Sarah Churchill\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e“\u003ci\u003eLady Macbeth \u003c\/i\u003epaints a most intriguing portrait  of the woman we thought we knew. A richly detailed, beautifully written, and moving  story.”\u003cb\u003e—Loretta Chase, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Weaves fact and fiction seamlessly,  and transports the reader to eleventh century Scotland. Fluidly written, sometimes  lyrical, \u003ci\u003eLady Macbeth \u003c\/i\u003eis fascinating, exciting and memorable.”\u003cb\u003e—Edith Felber, author  of \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eQueen of the Shadows\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Spinning her tale from the steel and bones of history,  Susan Fraser King tackles one of literature’s most famous villainesses, and utterly  transforms her. With vividly drawn details and richly believable characters, \u003ci\u003eLady  Macbeth \u003c\/i\u003etakes place in a Scotland that feels so authentic readers can smell the heather  and feel the cold northern winds; this novel will forever change the way you view  Macbeth and his lady.”\u003cb\u003e—Mary Jo Putney, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"King  is an exceptional medievalist who has moved from historical romance to historical  fiction with a novel exploring the life of Lady Macbeth—not Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth,  but a full-blooded woman with a warrior's heart and a politician's mind.  She will  surely influence the way readers view Macbeth and his queen in the future.”\u003cb\u003e—Romantic  Times \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “Historical romance novelist King leaps into deeper historical waters with  this captivating take on Lady Macbeth, who tells her side of the story with a forceful,  uncompromising daring…Based on historical evidence and recent theories of the era,  this is an epic tale written in high-voltage prose. King’s novel will thrill lovers  of Shakespeare adaptations and delight anyone who wants to enjoy a ripping tale of  love and ambition.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “A fascinating, layered story: King’s novel  turns Shakespeare’s play on its ear, setting history against fable as it brings a  nuanced and fierce truth to the life of the much-maligned Lady Macbeth.”\u003cb\u003e—Eloisa  James, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003c\/b\u003eWith  graduate degrees in art and art history, former college lecturer \u003cb\u003eSusan  Fraser King\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of several bestselling novels praised for  lyrical style and historical accuracy. Raised in upstate New York and a  frequent visitor to Scotland, she lives in Maryland with her family.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Anno Domini 1025\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Scarce nine the first time I was stolen away, I remember  a wild and unthinking fright as I was snatched from my pony's back and dragged into  the arms of one of the men who rode toward my father's escort party. We were heading  north to watch our kinsman, King Malcolm, second of the name, hold an autumnal court  on the moot hill at Scone. Proud of my shaggy garron and painted saddle, I insisted  on riding alone in the length between my father, older brother Farquhar, and several  of their retainers. Then horsemen emerged from a fringe of trees and came straight  for us. As men shouted and horses reared, a warrior reached out and plucked me up  like a poppet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The memories of that day are vivid but disjointed. His furs smelled  rancid and smoky; his whiskered chin was broad from my view beneath, trapped before  him in the saddle; his fingers on the reins were grimy and powerful. I can recall  the russet brown of his cloak, but I do not recall his name. I know it was never  spoken in my hearing for years afterward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Kicking, shrieking, twisting like an eel  in the arms of that stranger, I managed to tear his dagger from his belt, slicing  my thumb like a sausage. With no idea how to handle the thing, I meant to defend  myself. A fierce urge insisted upon it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He snatched the dagger back, but next I  tore the large round brooch from his cloak, shredding the wool, and whipped it upward  to jab it into his cheek. That slowed him. Swearing, he released me for an instant,  and I lurched from the saddle, falling and breaking my arm in my thud to cold earth.  Rolling by accident more than intent, I narrowly missed the forelegs of a horse as  my kinsmen thundered past me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Shouting then, and steel and iron clashed, and within  minutes of yanking me from my pretty saddle, the man was dead, and two of his guard  with him. My father and the others took them down with swift and ugly certainty.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Huddled beside the road on the frosted earth, I watched, arm aching, heart slamming,  while men fought and died. Until then, I had never seen a skirmish, nor so much blood.  I had heard steel ring against steel in the practice yard of our fortress in Fife,  but I had never seen blade sink into flesh, nor heard the soft, surprised gasp as  the soul abandons the body without warning. Since then, I have heard it too often.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I own that cloak pin still, good bronze and smooth jet, and I will never wear it.  In the little casket with my jewels, its dusky gleam reminds me to stay strong and  wary.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My brother, Farquhar, died of the wounds he took in my defense. I saw the  angled sprawl of his body, though my father's men shielded me from the full sight.  I remember, too, the taste of my salt tears, and my father's roar of grief echoing  in the chill air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Farquhar left a small son, Malcolm, and a pale wife with a grieving  spirit, who soon returned to her Lowland family, leaving Malcolm to foster with Bodhe.  My father found solace in the boy's presence, and he swore to discover who had plotted  the attack that had nearly taken his daughter and had killed his son.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Through subtle  inquiries, Bodhe learned that the men were sent by Crinan, the lay abbot of Dunkeld  as well as mormaer--the Celtic equivalent to Saxon earl or Norse jarl--of Atholl.  He was married to the king's eldest daughter. My father already loathed him as an  arrogant fool, and now outright hated him. At the king's next judgment court, Bodhe  accused Crinan of Atholl of plotting to abduct me to marry Crinan's son Duncan, a  young warrior, and of cruelly killing Farquhar mac Bodhe. Denying all, Crinan claimed  that Bodhe attacked his men without provocation, thereby inviting Farquhar's death  himself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The guilty party would have to pay cro, a customary penalty in recompense,  a certain amount of livestock or other goods according to rank. While they awaited  the king's decision, tensions were such that Bodhe and Crinan nearly came to blows,  but for the king's housecarls who stood between them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Justice stumbled on barren  ground that day, for my father paid, as a prince, many cows each for Crinan's deceased  men, some to their families and some to the king. Crinan basked in smug victory,  keeping the fat coffers of his church at Dunkeld, and the continued favor of his  royal father-in-law. The king, old Malcolm, showed no loyalty toward Bodhe and Farquhar,  his own blood kin. My father never forgot it. Added to past offenses, the whole was  fuel for fire.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Early on I learned why we despised Malcolm's faction of our kinsmen.  Our kin group had endured the deaths of others, including Bodhe's father, King Kenneth,  the third of the name. He had been murdered by then-young Malcolm, called the Destroyer,  who took his cousin's throne.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My blood had even more merit once Bodhe had no other  heir. Because I am descended in a direct line from Celtic kings, the purest royal  blood courses through me and blushes my skin. I could prick a finger and it would  be gold to some.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I am Gruadh inghean Bodhe mac Cinead mhic Dubh--daughter of Bodhe  son of Kenneth son of Duff. My grandfathers going back were kings of Scots, and I  was born a princess of the house of Clan Gabhran that boasts Kenneth mac Alpin, the  first king of Scots and Picts together. The line reaches back to the Picts who were  native to this land, and the Scotti who came over from Ireland to settle as the Dalriadans  in Argyll. We are proud of our heritage, and know the old names by heart: son of,  son of.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My lineage combines the ancient royal branches of Scotland through my father,  and through my mother, the proud line of the high kings of Ireland back to Niall  of the Nine Hostages and beyond. Our old tree has many branches, some warring and  some not, and divides along two main trunks, Clan Gabhran and Clan Loarne, descended  from a single king, ages past.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Because a man could claim the throne of Scotland  by marrying me, I was not safe. Nor were my kinsmen, come to that: if they were killed,  one after another, our line would be eliminated at its heart, making room for others'  ambitions. Such is the way of things when one's heritage is ancient, pure, and royal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Little good did the blood of ancients do me. I was like a lark spiraling upward,  unaware of the hawks above judging time and distance to the prize.","brand":"Crown","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304631980261,"sku":"NP9780307341754","price":16.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780307341754.jpg?v=1767731082","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/lady-macbeth-isbn-9780307341754","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}