Arthur and Percival stood on the deck watching as the ferry creep up to the wharf. The most dangerous part of the trip was rapidly approaching, and Arthur had to admit he was very nervous. He didn't remember the land of his birth, and he was sure that the authorities would be on watch for him. Percival had a small smile on his face and Arthur looked at him curiously.
"It's been a long time Lad, I have missed England." Percival replied wistfully.
"I have been trying to remember it, but I can't." Arthur looked at the grimy wharf and the soot covered building they approached. It was a lot dirtier than he expected, the Chinese were very aware of the appearance of their building and crews of cleaners were employed solely to keep the soot off the multitude of colourful buildings. It seemed the British were not so driven. A bump caused Arthur to rock on his feet, they were docked.
"Now we find out if the passports I bought were worth the ridiculous price I paid," Percival commented. "Shall we?" He looked at Arthur with a grin and headed toward the gangway.
Arthur joined the line of people walking down the gangway toward the Customs and Immigration office. There they face the first test of his attempt to regain his rightful place on the Throne of Britain. If they were able to hear his heartbeat, the game would have been up before they got to the front of the line. That was not possible, so Arthur concentrated on keeping his outward appearance as calm and relaxed as he could. The Customs office was as dull and sterile, with the most basic of furniture and the obligatory portrait of his murderous uncle on the wall behind the Customs officer. There was a real musty smell that seemed to seep out of the walls, he thought that a simple bunch of flowers would reduce the stuffy feeling of the place. But that was not the intent, the room was designed to make people as uneasy as they could. The thinking being is that the smell and austerity would put the guilty on edge and the Officers could spot them even easier.
He approached the desk and stood there as the overly officious little man made a big show of reading through some document or another. Another ploy to unsettle the guilty, but Arthur simply stood there waiting patiently for the Officer to get to him.
"Good Morning Sir, passport please?"
"Certainly, here you are." Arthur handed him the fake passport, and tried to look as calm as he could.
"What was your business on the continent, Mr. Peacock?"
"My Uncle and I were on a buying trip. My Uncle and I import antiques and specialised furniture." He explained.
"And how long were you on the continent?" The officer asked, he was eyeing Arthur with every question, looking for any twitches or other tells that would indicate a lie.
"This time we have been gone for eight weeks. It has been a long two months, can't get a decent cup of tea over there." Arthur said with a subtle smile.
"Yes, those froggies have no idea how to make a decent brew. Well this is all in order. Have good day, Mr. Peacock."
"Thank you, My Good Man. I shall be happier once I can find a nice cup of tea and maybe some shortbread." The Officer let a laugh and nodded and waved the young man on his way.
Arthur walked through the doorway to the terminal, across the waiting area to where Percival stood talking quietly to a very tall man in a dark suit. As he approached the man stopped talking and simply looked at Arthur.
"My Boy, this is Benson, he has been one of my most trusted contacts in England while we were away." Percival said as Arthur held out his hand. Benson took it very briefly and mumbled something Arthur didn't catch. But before he could ask the man what he said he turned and exited the terminal for the pick-up area. Percival looked at Arthur with a small grin and turned to follow Benson.
"Don't worry, Lad. He is a very shy sort, but he warms up when you get to know him." Percival explained. Arthur just shrugged and followed his Uncle out to the waiting car. It was a car he never thought he would ever been seen riding in, let alone in the back seat, a Rolls Royce Silver Wraith. It probably cost more than the damn ferry they had just gotten off. Percival seemed not to notice and simply climbed in the back and motioned Arthur to join him.
The ride through the morning streets of London was as exciting a trip as Arthur had ever had. To see all these people rushing about like there was something vitally important to do, and there was not one street café or vendor selling snacks along the entire route. There were so many cars and trucks, and of course the ubiquitous double decker red buses. It was like another planet compared to the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, where one could get the most delicious food on just about every street corner. Here there were café's but they were closed off to the world by glass and brick, it must be so boring to eat in such establishments. Arthur watched as the car passed the Palace and he could see the Royal Guards moving on anyone that stood still for more than a moment, and in some cases none too kindly. It was an ugly city, he decided, but it was the city of his birth, a city that had been a centre for civilization and culture for over a thousand years. As ugly as it was, there was a certain quality that you couldn't find in many other cities of the world.
Watching the barrow-men and women hauling produce and other goods to the shops they supplied was something he did like. A throwback to the days of horse drawn carriages and men in suits and women in dresses that had massive hoop frames and prominent bustles. Now, it was more about convenience and practicality, even the upper classes were guilty of dressing down, saving their finery for the parties and the opera. The car almost floated through the streets, not a bump felt, Heaven forbid those in the back were jostled. It was the height of opulence and privilege, to which Arthur felt more than a little uncomfortable. He was actually surprised that more people weren't staring as they passed, but it seemed they cared not a jot for the sight of two men travelling in the back of a Rolls Royce.
The scenery changed fairly quickly and before he realised it, there were parks and trees on both sides of the street. The parks were manicured to a level that reminded Arthur of a Japanese garden he once saw at an exhibition in Guangzhou. Couples were meandering through the tree lined paths, while others sat under massive oak trees sipping tea and eating fine little sandwiches. This was something he never saw in Hong Kong, only the extraordinarily wealthy were even allowed to step foot in the tiny parks that were found in the upper-class suburbs. While Arthur was raised in very privileged manner, he was still never exposed to the super rich. Now he was travelling in a car he couldn't imagine paying for and looking out over parks that were decadent in the extreme, to his way of thinking anyway. He didn't really notice, but the car had pulled up to a large townhouse with balconies and creepers that were trained to climb the walls in very controlled ways.
The door opened and he almost jumped as Percival tapped him on the shoulder and indicated that he should follow him out.
"We have arrived at my London home, Lad." Percival explained.
"This is yours? How rich are you, Uncle Percy?" He gawped.
"Not nearly as rich as you, Arthur." The older man said with a smile. "All that money you were so shocked at in my safe, that's your money. Your father made sure that there was a substantial financial inheritance for you." Arthur just sat in the car silent, he couldn't really digest the words he was hearing. "Remember, you are the Heir to the Throne of the British Empire. Do you think a pauper would ascend?" Percival said with a small chuckle.
They exited the car and Benson closed the door behind Arthur.
"If you would step this way please Sir?" He said quietly to Arthur.
"Arthur is fine, Benson." He said quickly.
"Yes Sir." Benson said with a small bow of the head. The walked up the marble stairs leading to the front door, which opened just as Percival made the landing. Another man stood in the doorway smiling broadly.
"Sir Percival, how wonderful to finally have you home. The house has been a mausoleum without you."
"Ah, Geoffrey, you are a sight for these old eyes. How have you been?"
"The old knees play havoc in the winter, but one mustn't complain."
"You'll out live me you old Robber." Percival said shaking the man's hand and clapping him on the back as they went inside.
The entrance hall was something else to Arthur's eyes, Italian marble was in abundance and the craftsmanship was beyond compare. Artworks that must be worth a small fortune hung on all the walls, he even saw a Rembrandt and he thought one looked suspiciously like a Da Vinci. It was making his head spin as he looked about himself.
"Your Majesty, Let me say that I am most excited to see that you have arrived home safely." Geoffrey said as he led the two men through to the study.
"I'm sorry Geoffrey, but do I know you, you seem familiar to me, somehow."
"I should think he would Arthur, he would chase you around this very house when you and your father would come to dinner." Percival said.
"I hope that won't be necessary now, I am little past chasing the young Prince through the servant's quarters." Geoffrey said with a broad smile.
Both the older men laughed, they entered the study to find three men sitting on the Chesterfield couches almost identical to the ones Percival had in their apartment in Hong Kong. When Arthur entered, all three shot to their feet and bowed deeply, Arthur saw that it wasn't just the three strangers, but Percival and Geoffrey were also on bended knee.
"Your Highness, your return has gladdened the hearts of the many supporters that have maintained the vigil." The biggest of the three said.
"Please, why is everyone bowing? Please stand." Arthur knew why they were bowing, but the whole thing was still just words, nothing was certain, and especially not his ascension to the throne.
"Your Highness, I understand the difficulty you face, but please remember we are all loyal and committed vassals of the one true King. Your father was our King, our leader and our inspiration." Percival said –matter-of-factly.
"Uncle Percy, I have no idea what I am supposed to do, and please, until I can assume the throne. If! I can assume the throne, I will be Arthur, and nothing else" Percival looked up at the young man and the surge of pride in his young protégé surged. His humility and candor were just like his father.
"Arthur it is. The reason these three men are here, is for that reason exactly. Let me introduce you to some of most trusted friends and co-conspirators. Percival guided Arthur to the first man in the loose line. "This reprobate is the former Colonel of the Royal Guard Sir Geraint Rolph."
"Your…I mean Arthur, it is an honour and privilege to finally meet you." Geraint said with a small nod of his head.
This fine upstanding man is the former Chancellor of the Exchequer Gaheris Bravenswood." Percival indicated to the immaculately dressed and presented man in the middle.
"Arthur, I am most relieved to have you home, I feel the winds of change are blowing already." Gaheris spoke with the most melodic and finely trained voice, Arthur bet that he was a hell of a singer as well.
"Finally this man is someone we keep around because we feel sorry for him."
"Arse." The third man grumbled, causing the other three to laugh out loud.
"In reality this is the most talented Foreign Secretary the British Government ever had, Sir Galahad Rookdale."
"Please ignore this decrepit old bottom feeder, Arthur. He has always been jealous of my handsome features and talent with the ladies." Galahad explained. Arthur had to chuckle a little at the banter between the two older men.
"Ladies? Since when, you haven't chased a lady in your life, you old Queen." Percival laughed.
"Just letting the boy in slowly, don't want to chase him away, do I?" Galahad responded quickly.
"Sorry Galahad, I am firmly in the straight court. But I am sure that one as handsome as yourself has no problem attracting suitors." Arthur said with a smile.
"See the boy is already more intelligent than you Percy." Again all the men laughed at the casual banter.
"But in all seriousness, Arthur. Seeing you here and with Percival at your side has relieved a great weight from our souls." The rest of the men agreed with hearty Here, Here's.
"Gentlemen, firstly allow me to express my appreciation and indebtedness for the warm and obviously truly heart felt welcome. I hope that as the coming days pass we will have to opportunity to get to know each other well. I know that I am young, but I feel sure, that with the guidance of you all, I will be able to begin the trek down this rocky path with confidence and determination." Arthur looked around the room and considered his next words carefully. "As you know, we have arrived under false names and pretenses, but if what Uncle Percy has told me is held true, it won't be long before the Royal Intelligence service discovers my presence in London. I feel that for the foreseeable future, the knowledge of my whereabouts and intentions remain a highly guarded secret." All the men nodded. "So to ensure that this is easier on those we include, I am no more than Arthur, Percival's nephew. That goes for you and Benson also, Geoffrey." The old man nodded and bowed slightly.
"We have an incredible amount of work to do and if we intend to eject that murdering bastard from the Throne, I want everything to be perfect, or as near as possible. I think that Uncle Percy and I need a couple of days to recover from the journey here, but once we have, I think we should begin with meetings to firm up the situation and that which we can rely on and that which we need to work on. Agreed?" He asked, knowing the response. He turned and looked at Percival and saw the pride and love in the man's eyes. It was enough to make him turn back to the other three lest he gain a tear or two himself. Everyone was amazed and happy with the way that Arthur had immediately taken leadership of the Cabal. All three had harboured deep concerns that the young man would not be up to the task. But their fears were allayed and their confidence grew exponentially. He was his father's son.