- File Size: 6342 KB
- Print Length: 1072 pages
- Page Numbers Source ISBN: 0385335997
- Publisher: Dell (October 26, 2004)
- Publication Date: October 26, 2004
- Sold by: Random House LLC
- Language: English
- ASIN: B000FC2L1E
- Text-to-Speech: Enabled
- Word Wise: Enabled
- Lending: Not Enabled
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #2,670 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
Random House LLC
Price set by seller.
Your Memberships & Subscriptions
Voyager (Outlander, Book 3) Kindle Edition
|New from||Used from|
|Length: 1072 pages||Word Wise: Enabled||Enhanced Typesetting: Enabled|
|Page Flip: Enabled||
Switch back and forth between reading the Kindle book and listening to the Audible book with Whispersync for Voice. Add the Audible book for a reduced price of $7.49 when you buy the Kindle book.
Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number.
More items to explore
“An amazing read.”—Arizona Tribune
From the Trade Paperback edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
MAY 2 , 1968
Of course he’s dead!’’ Claire’s voice was sharp with agitation; it rang loudly in the half-empty study, echoing among the rifled bookshelves. She stood against the cork-lined wall like a prisoner awaiting a firing squad, staring from her daughter to Roger Wakefield and back again.
‘‘I don’t think so.’’ Roger felt terribly tired. He rubbed a hand over his face, then picked up the folder from the desk; the one containing all the research he’d done since Claire and her daughter had first come to him, three weeks before, and asked his help. He opened the folder and thumbed slowly through the contents. The Jacobites of Culloden. The Rising of the ’45. The gallant Scots who had rallied to the banner of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and cut through Scotland like a blazing sword—only to come to ruin and defeat against the Duke of Cumberland on the gray moor at Culloden. ‘‘Here,’’ he said, plucking out several sheets clipped together. The archaic writing looked odd, rendered in the black crispness of a photocopy. ‘‘This is the muster roll of the Master of Lovat’s regiment.’’
He thrust the thin sheaf of papers at Claire, but it was her daughter, Brianna, who took the sheets from him and began to turn the pages, a slight frown between her reddish brows.
‘‘Read the top sheet,’’ Roger said. ‘‘Where it says ‘Officers.’ ’’
‘‘All right. ‘Officers,’ ’’ she read aloud, ‘‘ ‘Simon, Master of Lovat’ . . .’’
‘‘The Young Fox,’’ Roger interrupted. ‘‘Lovat’s son. And five more names, right?’’
Brianna cocked one brow at him, but went on reading.
‘‘ ‘William Chisholm Fraser, Lieutenant; George D’Amerd Fraser Shaw, Captain; Duncan Joseph Fraser, Lieutenant; Bayard Murray Fraser, Major,’’ she paused, swallowing, before reading the last name, ‘‘ ‘. . . James Alexander
Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. Captain.’ ’’ She lowered the papers, looking a little pale. ‘‘My father.’’
Claire moved quickly to her daughter’s side, squeezing the girl’s arm. She was pale, too.
‘‘Yes,’’ she said to Roger. ‘‘I know he went to Culloden. When he left me . . . there at the stone circle . . . he meant to go back to Culloden Field, to rescue his men who were with Charles Stuart. And we know he did’’—she nodded at the folder on the desk, its manila surface blank and innocent in the lamplight—‘‘you found their names. But . . . but . . . Jamie . . .’’
Speaking the name aloud seemed to rattle her, and she clamped her lips tight.
Now it was Brianna’s turn to support her mother.
‘‘He meant to go back, you said.’’ Her eyes, dark blue and encouraging, were intent on her mother’s face. ‘‘He meant to take his men away from the field, and then go back to the battle.’’ Claire nodded, recovering herself slightly.
‘‘He knew he hadn’t much chance of getting away; if the English caught him . . . he said he’d rather die in battle. That’s what he meant to do.’’ She turned to Roger, her gaze an unsettling amber. Her eyes always reminded him of hawk’s eyes, as though she could see a good deal farther than most people. ‘‘I can’t believe he didn’t die there—so many men did, and he meant to!’’
Almost half the Highland army had died at Culloden, cut down in a blast of cannonfire and searing musketry. But not Jamie Fraser. ‘‘No,’’ Roger said doggedly. ‘‘That bit I read you from Linklater’s book—’’ He reached to pick it up, a white volume, entitled The Prince in the Heather.
‘‘Following the battle,’’ he read, ‘‘eighteen wounded Jacobite officers took refuge in the farmhouse near the moor. Here they lay in pain, their wounds untended, for two days. At the end of that time, they were taken out and shot. One man, a Fraser of the Master of Lovat’s regiment, escaped the slaughter. The rest are buried at the edge of the domestic park.
‘‘See?’’ he said, laying the book down and looking earnestly at the two women over its pages. ‘‘An officer, of the Master of Lovat’s regiment.’’ He grabbed up the sheets of the muster roll. ‘‘And here they are! Just six of them. Now, we know the man in the farmhouse can’t have been Young Simon; he’s a well-known historical figure, and we know very well what happened to him. He retreated from the field— unwounded, mind you—with a group of his men, and fought his way north, eventually making it back to Beaufort Castle, near here.’’ He waved vaguely at the full-length window, through which the nighttime lights of Inverness twinkled faintly.
‘‘Nor was the man who escaped Leanach farmhouse any of the other four officers—William, George, Duncan, or Bayard,’’ Roger said. ‘‘Why?’’ He snatched another paper out of the folder and brandished it, almost triumphantly. ‘‘Because they all did die at Culloden! All four of them were killed on the field—I found their names listed on a plaque in the church at Beauly.’’
Claire let out a long breath, then eased herself down into the old leather swivel chair behind the desk.
‘‘Jesus H. Christ,’’ she said. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and her head against her hands, the thick, curly brown hair spilling forward to hide her face. Brianna laid a hand on Claire’s back, face troubled as she bent over her mother. She was a tall girl, with large, fine bones, and her long red hair glowed in the warm light of the desk lamp.
‘‘If he didn’t die . . .’’ she began tentatively.
Claire’s head snapped up. ‘‘But he is dead!’’ she said. Her face was strained, and small lines were visible around her eyes. ‘‘For God’s sake, it’s two hundred years; whether he died at Culloden or not, he’s dead now!’’
Brianna stepped back from her mother’s vehemence, and lowered her head, so the red hair—her father’s red hair—swung down beside her cheek.
‘‘I guess so,’’ she whispered. Roger could see she was fighting back tears. And no wonder, he thought. To find out in short order that first, the man you had loved and called ‘‘Father’’ all your life really wasn’t your father, secondly, that your real father was a Highland Scot who had lived two hundred years ago, and thirdly, to realize that he had likely perished in some horrid fashion, unthinkably far from the wife and child he had sacrificed himself to save . . . enough to rattle one, Roger thought.
He crossed to Brianna and touched her arm. She gave him a brief, distracted glance, and tried to smile. He put his arms around her, even in his pity for her distress thinking how marvelous she felt, all warm and soft and springy at once.
Claire still sat at the desk, motionless. The yellow hawk’s eyes had gone a softer color now, remote with memory. They rested sightlessly on the east wall of the study, still covered from floor to ceiling with the notes and memorabilia left by the Reverend Wakefield, Roger’s late adoptive father. Looking at the wall himself, Roger saw the annual meeting notice sent by the Society of the White Rose—those enthusiastic, eccentric souls who still championed the cause of Scottish independence, meeting in nostalgic tribute to Charles Stuart, and the Highland heroes who had followed him.
Roger cleared his throat slightly.
‘‘Er . . . if Jamie Fraser didn’t die at Culloden . . .’’ he said.
‘‘Then he likely died soon afterward.’’ Claire’s eyes met Roger’s, straight on, the cool look back in the yellow-brown depths. ‘‘You have no idea how it was,’’ she said. ‘‘There was a famine in the Highlands—none of the men had eaten for days before the battle. He was wounded—we know that. Even if he escaped, there would have been . . . no one to care for him.’’ Her voice caught slightly at that; she was a doctor now, had been a healer even then, twenty years before, when she had stepped through a circle of standing stones, and met destiny with James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. Roger was conscious of them both; the tall, shaking girl he held in his arms, and the woman at the desk, so still, so poised. She had traveled through the stones, through time; been suspected as a spy, arrested as a witch, snatched by an unimaginable quirk of circumstance from the arms of her first husband, Frank Randall. And three years later, her second husband, James Fraser, had sent her back through the stones, pregnant, in a desperate effort to save her and the unborn child from the onrushing disaster that would soon engulf him.
Surely, he thought to himself, she’s been through enough? But Roger was a historian. He had a scholar’s insatiable, amoral curiosity, too powerful to be constrained by simple compassion. More than that, he was oddly conscious of the third figure in the family tragedy in which he found himself involved—Jamie Fraser.
‘If he didn’t die at Culloden,’’ he began again, more firmly, ‘‘then perhaps I can find out what did happen to him. Do you want me to try?’’ He waited, breathless, feeling Brianna’s warm breath through his shirt. Jamie Fraser had had a life, and a death. Roger felt obscurely that it was his duty to find out all the truth; that Jamie Fraser’s women deserved to know all they could of him. For Brianna, such knowledge was all she would ever have of the father she had never known. And for Claire—behind the question he had asked was the thought that had plainly not yet struck her, stunned with shock as she was: she had crossed the barrier of time twice before. She could, just possibly, do it again. And if Jamie Fraser had not died at Culloden . . .
He saw awareness flicker in the clouded amber of her eyes, as the thought came to her. She was normally pale; now her face blanched white as the ivory handle of the letter opener before her on the desk. Her fingers closed around it, clenching so the knuckles stood out in knobs of bone. She didn’t speak for a long time. Her gaze fixed on Brianna and lingered there for a moment, then returned to Roger’s face. ‘‘Yes,’’ she said, in a whisper so soft he could barely hear her. ‘‘Yes. Find out for me. Please. Find out.’’ --This text refers to the hardcover edition.
Would you like to tell us about a lower price?
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
My teenage daughter asked me what this book what about and I really had a hard time answering that question. It is about so many things. Mostly it is about Jamie and Claire. I love the fact that in this book that are no longer as young as they were in earlier books. They are in their 40's and have done a bit more living. I think that their maturity really shows in how they handle everything.
This pair have both lived a remarkable lives up to this point. There were high points in this book and low points but beyond everything their love for each other never waivers. I think that the biggest strength of this book is how clearly the characters' emotions are felt on the page. The scene in the print shop made my heart melt. I have read the book before so I remembered that scene but it still got to me.
This book is long. There are so many different things happening in this book and after one situation is dealt with they move on to the next one. I did start to feel a bit exhausted from this book towards the end. I still enjoyed every moment but I was starting to feel like I might deserve a medal once I reached the end. I do feel like this book has a more natural stopping point than the previous book. I plan to take a bit of a break before jumping into the next audiobook although I don't plan to wait very long.
The narration for this audiobook was nearly perfect. Davina Porter is the perfect choice for this series. She is Clair and Jamie and all the other characters to me at this point. I never tired of listening to her voice and sometimes listened for up to four hours per day. I am amazed by how well this narrator is able to perform so many different voices and accents. I always knew exactly who was speaking and felt myself being pulled into the story. This audiobook is truly a wonderful way to experience this novel.
I do highly recommend this book. This is not a series that you would want to read out of order and I don't think that this book would work at all as a stand-alone novel. Anyone who has enjoyed the first two books in the series will not want to miss this installment. This is the kind of story that fans read and re-read and find enjoyment in it every time.
Voyager was the first book I ever read on a Kindle and, frankly, I thought I would miss the feel of running my fingers over the paper as I turned the pages. But I got to the next page faster on the kindle, and with this book it's just what I wanted. If you love the series, you will love this book and it will NOT spoil the show, it will make you more anxious for them to hurry up and shoot! I'm just delighted and about to start the next book.
Top international reviews
I found it equally as intense as the series, and could relate to the characters and imagine in my head the sound of their voices. I've not finished the book yet, only 3/4 of the way through, but I can recommend it. Diana has an easy way or writing that envelopes you in the story. I will be buying more of the books in the series, as the tv versions will be a while yet. These books and tv series enticed us to travel up to Scotland this year, we'd not been before, but found it beautiful, so much so, that we intend to re-visit later in the year. I can't say a bad thing about any of her books, if you want to be transported away to another time, pick up and read one, you won't be disappointed.
The one thing that I found astounding about the story is the part where Claire gives Jamie the photographs of Brianna. This, I would have thought, would have produced some sort of amazed outburst, but there was none. There were no cameras in the 18th century. So, you might ponder, would Jamie not be astounded by the sight of an actual photograph? Of course, he would have! Now this, was the silly part for me.
Another major annoyance was at the start of the book, before Claire goes back through the stones. She's sitting in the doctor's lounge with Joe Abernathy and there, seemingly an awfully long time, Gabaldon reproduces the script of book that Claire is looking at. Was that really necessary? Did it anything to the story? Of course not and I don't see why she felt the need to it other than perhaps to satisfy her desire to write a Mills & Boon novel.
Claire is kidnapped by a British navy ship which is travelling far faster than than the Aramis. Somehow Jamie manages to row a boat sufficiently quickly to catch up with the navy ship. What an incredible feat of strength! It's obviously been quite a few days. Suffficient for Claire to tend to all of the typhoid stricken sailors before jumping ship, quite literally. In HIspaniola Jamie suddenly appears as the captain of some French soldiers with no explanation of how pulled it off. Hispaniola is a large island and yet, coincidentally, the Aramis lands only 2 miles from where Claire washed up.
Reading this probably sounds like I didn't enjoy the book. as so much of it doesn't stand up to scrutiny. This is not the case. One has to suspend disbelief in so many things. For those who watch soap operas, they'll know that the number of times that a character just happens to be looking out of a window at a crucial moment is par for the course. I think the criticism of Gabaldon is unfair. She is writing to entertain and that she does. If you want to read something that is completely accurate in every single manner you'd find the book the most boring thing you'd ever read and there would criticisms for the flow pace blah di blah di blah.
I've only given this book 4 stars and only this reason. The book is written in Amerenglish. The spelling drives me to distraction but even worse is the use of expressions that an awful lot of Brits would be totally unfamiliar with. And what's with this business of joining two words together unphenated. We most definitely not use the word printshop! At best it would be print shop and more likely just "printer's". Yes, it's petty. I marked every awful American spelling in pink and every American expression in blue. There is hardly a page on my Kindle that doesn't have some highlighting of one sort of another. This book concerns British characters and it should as a matter of courtesy to those in the UK (and anyone else who speaks British English) if nothing else, to have had this book edited as such, as Cross Stich was.
Establishing Jamie is not dead is important to the story as it gives impetus to Claire’s decision to return to the 18th century. Again, only Claire’s voice is in the first person and all Rogers's findings and his interactions with her are done in the third person. If she goes, she will be leaving Brianna alone and this idea of family parting and reconciliation is a significant theme in this book, compared to the second one.
When Claire returns nearly 20 years have passed and Jamie has undergone many changes of circumstances and how Claire comes to terms with these things that occupy most of the first part of the book. Jamie’s character has not changed and it is this sense of loyalty and duty that gives rise to the problems in the second half of the book.
Jamie needs money to settle a debt of honour and he means to use the Mackenzie treasure to pay for it. Due to an injury, he cannot swim to the island and young Ian swims the distance. When Ian is captured Claire and Jamie need to pursue the ship to rescue him. This takes them to the Caribbean, the slave trade and dark magic. It feels like an in-joke that the naturalist Claire meets on the island is Lawrence Stern (Lawrence Sterne wrote Tristram Shandy in 1759).
As previously stated, this novel is much more family orientated than the second novel, which felt more political and aloof. In another sense, it is darker, with the black magic on the Caribbean island, the pirate attack, and the typhoid plague. The ending brings all the characters together and has Claire and Jamie landing on the shores of America, ready to begin a new adventure in the New World. As always, this book is full of colourful supporting characters, great attention to detail and historical accuracy which makes it a joy to read.
Essentially it is more of the same - lots of sex and violence, peril and drama. The story actually pokes fun at a bodice ripper which Claire reads in the hospital, which is ironic, because that’s how the story comes across. What makes it odd is the language. I’ve got used to the ‘verra’ and ‘ken’, but Claire’s hyperbolic meanderings drive me mad! It’s not the whisper of greenery as they walk, but the susurrus of their passage. I had thought Caitriona Balfe’s acting wooden, but I know now that she’s perfectly captured the Claire of the books.
Not high literature, but a gripping story, full of memorable characters and lots of action.
The casting of Sam and Cat for Jamie and Clare is incredible just like I would have imagined them.Also the casting of the rest of clan however don’t understand why they gave John Grey black hair when he was blonde but a wonderful actor never the less..
This book was my favourite of the 3 can’t wait to read the next one now changing for American Civil War to start.