This was the spy business. Not for the faint of heart.
But still—
One day, Sir Thomas, you’re going to push someone too far.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d be there to see it.
WRITER’S NOTE
This story postulates an alternate history. The current British royal family is called Windsor, but their true name is Saxe-Coburg, a name born in 1840 at the marriage between Victoria I and Albert Saxe-Coburg. The family label was changed (as detailed in chapter 4) during World War I to eliminate its German character. For the purposes of this story I omitted that modification. I did the same with the 1936 abdication of Edward VIII (chapter 6), instead implying a long reign and making him the father of my invented Victoria II. I chose to use a fictional royal family just as I’ve used a fictional American president in many of my thrillers.
The locales of St. Margaret’s Church (chapter 2), Buckingham Palace (chapters 2, 19), St. James Palace (chapter 6), the Tower of London (chapters 12, 13), and the Wellington Barracks (chapter 12) are accurately described. The silver vessel in chapters 3 and 7 is real, though slightly modified. This story takes place seven years in Cotton Malone’s past, so the Act of Succession quoted in chapter 4 is the one that existed prior to the recent change that now allows both male and female firstborns to inherit the throne.
The exploits of Arthur described in chapter 4 are from the legend, but the information about him being a Saxon warrior leader (chapters 7 and 9) is probably more accurate. The account of a dying Henry II (chapter 4) is based on a historical incident. Henry was the first English king to attempt to use Arthur as a way to revitalize the throne. Eliminating the monarchy is something constantly discussed throughout British history (chapters 2 and 8). It was actually accomplished in the 17th century when Cromwell briefly ruled. As detailed in chapters 2, 9, and 11, various kings have wanted to name their potential heirs Arthur, but death seemed always to interfere. The connection between Arthur’s grave and Glastonbury abbey exists (chapters 7 and 9), and currently a marker stands at Glastonbury noting its supposed location.
History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth (chapter 9), Navigatio Sancti Brendani Abbatis by St. Brendan (chapter 9), the Landanámabók (chapter 9), and On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain by Gildas (chapter 16) are actual manuscripts. The addition of specific references to Arthur in the Gildas work was my invention, though those accounts were based on historical references.
The Celtic settlement of Iceland in the 6th century happened, so it seemed a natural choice to hide Arthur’s true resting place there. The tomb, as described in chapters 14 and 16 is based on an actual grave site exhumed in the 1990s.
Of all the kings and queens who ruled England, only Arthur became a legend. But, most likely, he was not a king. Just a leader of men, fighting for what he believed in. When thinking of him, a line from Tennyson’s Idylls of the King always comes to mind—a tribute to Arthur, but it is also the theme of this story—“The old order changeth, yielding place to new.”
About the Author
Steve Berry is the #1 internationally and New York Times bestselling author of The Jefferson Key, The Emperor’s Tomb, The Paris Vendetta, The Charlemagne Pursuit, The Venetian Betrayal, The Alexandria Link, The Templar Legacy, The Third Secret, The Romanov Prophecy, The Amber Room, and the short stories “The Admiral’s Mark,” “The Balkan Escape,” and “The Devil’s Gold.” His books have been translated into forty languages and sold in fifty-one countries. He lives in the historic city of St. Augustine, Florida. He and his wife, Elizabeth, have founded History Matters, a nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving our heritage. To learn more about Steve Berry and the foundation, visit www.steveberry.org.
Please read on for an excerpt from Steve Berry’s
THE KING’S DECEPTION
Published by Ballantine Books
One
LONDON
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 21
6:25 PM
COTTON MALONE STEPPED UP TO THE CUSTOMS WINDOW AT Heathrow Airport and presented two passports—his own and his son Gary’s. Positioned between himself and the glass-enclosed counter, however, stood a problem.
Fifteen-year-old Ian Dunne.
“This one doesn’t have a passport,” he told the attendant, then explained who he was and what he was doing. A brief call to somebody led to verbal approval for Ian to reenter the country.
Which didn’t surprise Malone.
He assumed that since the Central Intelligence Agency wanted the boy in England they’d make the necessary arrangements.
He was tired from