Aboard
Boston Princess, Shevaun was holding her hands over her ears to try to shut out the shrieking of the winds as they assaulted the ship. Cooper felt the last hawser go. He shouted to Shevaun to hold on, but she did not hear him. He reeled over to her and held her against a stanchion with the limit of his strength.
The vessel lurched. Her port gunnel gasped out of the sea and took more water, and she began to drown. The storm gloated over her and flung her into the Russian ship.
In the main cabin of the huge brigantine a glass-fronted cabinet shattered, scattering bottles, crystal and cutlery, and Zergeyev hung on and cursed and said a prayer. As his ship settled back, her nose to wind, he kicked the debris from under his feet, said another prayer and poured another brandy.
A pox on Asia, he thought. I wish I were home. The pox on the devil storm. The pox on the British. The pox on this foul island. The pox on everything. The pox on Prince Tergin for sending me out here. The pox on Alaska—and on emigration. And on the Americas und Americans. But bless Shevaun.
Yes, he told himself as the ship reeled again and shrieked under the tempest’s violence. And bless Mother Russia and her sanctity, and her place in history. Prince Tergin’s plan is marvelous and correct, of course it is, and I’ll help it come to pass. Yes. Curse that damned bullet and the damned pain. No more riding over the limitless plains. That’s finished. Now I’m forced to forget the playing. Face yourself, Alexi! The bullet was luck—what’s the word the Tai-Pan uses?—ah yes, joss. The bullet was joss. Good joss. Now I can turn all my energies to the service of Russia.
What to do? Leave Hong Kong now. It’s finished. The stupid Lord Cunnington has throttled Britain and given us the key to Asia. Good. Make a trade deal with the Tai-Pan or with Brock, and then leave as soon as possible and go on to Alaska. Make arrangements for the tribes. Then go home. No, better—go on to Washington. Look and listen and think, and do what you were born to do—serve Mother Russia to the ends of the earth. Her earth.
Zergeyev felt the pain in his hip and for the first time enjoyed it. Very good joss, he thought. So it’s decided. We leave if we survive.
But what about Shevaun? Ah, there’s a girl worth thinking about, by the cross. Valuable politically, eh? And physically. But not good enough to marry even though her father’s a senator. But perhaps she is. Perhaps that would be a very wise move. Consider it, Alexi. We’re going to need leaders for Russian America. The continent will be split into principalities. Intermarriage has always been a form of conquest, eh? Perhaps you could hurry the day.
By St. Peter, I’d like her for a mistress. How could I arrange that? Would she? Why not? Stupid fool, Cooper. Damned annoying that she’s betrothed. Pity. She said she didn’t love him.
The typhoon was at its height, but the ring of mountains still deflected most of its violence from the harbor.
Boston Princess was floundering in mid-harbor, one gunnel awash, taking the seas heavily. Cooper knew that the end was near, and he held Shevaun and snouted that all would be well.
The ship sank deeper in the water and rushed at Kow-loon. Then she beached heavily. The rocks gutted her, and the waves rushed into her holds, and then a Supreme Wind lifted her out of the havoc and thrust her on her side above the surf.
Now that the gale blew from the south, it soared over the mountain range toward the mainland. And in the funnel that Happy Valley formed it increased its impossible force. It bore down on The Noble House, seeking its weak spot.
Struan was cradling May-may in his arms in the relatively safe suite on the north side. A lantern flickered nervously and cast bizarre, dancing shadows. Beyond the shattered windows, in the lee of the shrieking rain-soaked gale, there was only darkness. Ah Sam was kneeling on the floor and Yin-hsi nestled close to Struan for protection.
May-may turned and put her lips near Struan’s ear and shouted, “Tai-Pan, I’m displeasurably unhappy with all this noise.”
He laughed and held her tighter and she put her arms around his neck. He knew that nothing would touch them now. The worst was past.
“Three or four more hours, and it’ll be gone, lassie.”
“Stinky storm. Did I tell you it was a dragon? A sea-monster dragon?”
“Aye.”
“God’s blood!”
“What’s the matter?”
“I forgot to take the last dungtasting-poison-cinchona cup. Today’s the last day, never mind.”
“You’ll take it in a few hours, never mind!”
“Yes, Husband!” May-may felt very happy and very healthy. She played with the long hair at the nape of Struan’s neck. “I hope the children are all right.”
“Aye. Dinna worry, Chen Sheng will look after them.”
“When we go, heya? I’m fantastical urgent about marriage.”
“Three months. Definitely before Christmas.”
“I think you should take another barbarian wife as Third Sister.”
He laughed.
“Very important have lots of sons. Dinna laugh, by God!”
“Maybe you’ve a good thought, lassie,” he said. “Perhaps I should have three barbarians. Then there’s you and Yin-hsi. I think it’s terrifical important we should get another Chinese sister before we leave.”
“Huh! If your activity thus far with Second Sister’s any signal, we take lovers, by God!” Then she kissed his ear and shouted, “I’m very gracious pleased my joss gave me you, Tai-Pan!”
A cannonade of Supreme Winds blew the windows in on the south side and the whole building shifted as though in an earthquake. The nails in the roof screamed against an untoward pull, and then a devil gust peeled off the roof and hurled it into the sea.
Struan felt Yin-hsi surge away into the maelstrom above. He grabbed for her, but she had vanished.
Struan and May-may held each other tightly.
“Dinna give up, Tai-tai!”
“Never! I love you, Husband.”
And the Supreme Winds fell on them.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The sun rose bravely and spread warmth over the shattered town and the safe harbor.
Culum found his father in the havoc of the residence. Struan was crumpled in a corner of the north suite, and in his arms was a small, gaunt Chinese girl. Culum wondered how his father could have loved her, for to him she was not beautiful.
But they were not made obscene by death. Their faces were calm, as if they were asleep.
Culum left the room and went down the broken staircase, and outside into the gentle east breeze.
Tess was waiting. And when she saw him shake his head helplessly, her eyes too filled with tears and she held his hand. They walked out of Happy Valley by Queen’s Road, seeing nothing.
The new township was in ruins, with debris scattered everywhere. But, here and there, buildings were still standing, some mere shells, others damaged only slightly. The foreshore was alive with people hurrying to and fro, or standing still in groups surveying the wreckage of their dwellings or business houses. Many were supervising gangs of coolies, salvaging their sodden possessions or making repairs. Sedan-chair coolies were plying their trade. So were the beggars. Patrols of soldiers had been placed at strategic points against the inevitable looting. But, strangely, there were very few looters.