The
White Witch
staggered into harbor just before noon. Her foremast was gone and there was a tangle of broken spars and twisted rigging on the main deck.
Brock came alongside in a cutter as she nosed for her moorings.
“By God, someone’s to pay!” he roared as he came on deck, knowing instinctively from the shattered unreefed sails that were strewn among the halyards that the ship had been carrying too much canvas. “Wot be happened?”
“Day, sir,” Michaelmas said. He was a hard, pockmarked first mate. “I took over for Mr. Gorth. Till I knowed wot was in yor mind.” There was a lash in his huge fist. “We run into squall two hour out’ve Macao. Godrotting squall almost turned us on our beam end. Carried mast away, and blew us’n off course for fifty league.”
Brock bunched a fist and shook it in the man’s face. “Doan thee knowed enough to see squall? Doan thee knowed enough to reef in this season?”
“Yus, Mr. Brock,” Michaelmas said without fear. “But the squall come up alee. Doan curse me for squall, by God!”
Brock’s fist smashed him against the gunnel and he collapsed to the deck unconscious.
“Pennyworth!” Brock bellowed to the second mate, a thickset burly young man. “You be captain till further orders! Get storm anchors out. We be in for dirty weather.” Then he saw Culum on the quarterdeck. The seamen scattered as he climbed over the rigging and walked up the short gangway. He loomed over Culum. “Morning, Mr. Brock. I wanted—”
“Where be Mrs. Brock?”
“Below, sir. It wasn’t Mr. Machaelmas’ fault. And I wanted—“
“Shut thy face!” Brock snarled and then contemptuously turned his back on Culum. Culum boiled at the insult; Brock would never turn his back on the Tai-Pan.
“No one be allowed ashore!” Brock shouted. “Get this mess cleaned up, Pennyworth, or you’ll be beached like that bugger Michaelmas. Get him off my ship!”
He whirled back on Culum. “I be talking to thee right smartly.”
“I’d like to talk now.”
“One more word afore I’m ready and I’ll grind thee to dust.”
Culum followed Brock below and wished that the Tai-Pan were there. Oh God, how can I handle Brock? Why did we have to run into that cursed squall?
Tess was standing at the door to her cabin. She smiled tentatively and curtsied, but Brock shoved past and opened the main cabin door and slammed it behind him.
“Oh, God help us, darling,” Tess cried to Culum.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be all right.” Culum tried to level his voice and he desperately wished he had a pistol. He went to a rack and pulled out a belaying pin and motioned Tess into the cabin. “Don’t worry. He made a holy oath. He promised.”
“Let’s run while we’ve the chance,” she begged.
“Can’t run now, darling,” Culum said. “Don’t worry. It’s best to have it out now. We must.”
“So you let Tess slip out and that bugger pull wool over thy face, eh?” Brock was saying.
“Yus.” Liza said, and she was trying to contain her panic. “I were watching careful an’ I never thort, but they did an’ I be at fault. But they’s married, lad, and there baint naught we—”
“I be deciding that, by God! Wot happened with Gorth?”
She told him all she knew. “It were Gorth wot challenged Dirk Struan,” she said. She was terrified, not only for herself but even more for Tess and Culum and her man. If Tyler be going after that devil like this’n, he be a goner. “It were Gorth, Tyler. He called the Tai-Pan terrible names. An’ hit him with lash. In public he did. I tol’ Gorth to wait—to come here and get thee—but he hit me and left.”
“Wot?”
She pulled her hair away from her right ear. It was puffed and black, and the inside was caked with dried blood. “It still hurt something terrible.” She undid her blouse. Her chest was hideously bruised. “He did this. Yor son. He be a right devil and thee knowed it.”
“By God Liza. If he . . . if I knowed . . . it be best he be dead. But not by assassins and not without honor, by God.” His face terrible, he drew a mug of ale from the barrel and Liza thanked God that she’d had the foresight to have a fresh keg ready.
“The doctor be sure about the pox? That young bugger?”
“He has no pox and he baint a bugger. He’s thy son-in-law!”
“I knowed that. God curse him!”
“Tyler, forgive they two. I be beggin’ thee. He be a good boy and he be terrible in love with Tess and she be happy and—”
“Hold thy tongue!” Brock gulped the beer and slammed the tankard down. “Dirk be planning all this’n. I knowed it. T’spite me! First he be out to destroy my eldest son— and then takes away me marrying my girl proper. God curse Struan! He even tooked that from me!” He hurled the tankard against the bulkhead. “We be burying Gorth at sea today.”
“Tyler, luv,” Liza began. She touched his arm. “Tyler, luv, there be somethin’ else. It must be sayed. Thee’s got to forgive—thee’s a lot to forgive. About Nagrek.”
“Eh?”
“Gorth tol’ me what thee and him did to Nagrek. That be terrible—but he be deserving it. ’Cause he laid with Tess. He did. But Culum doan know, it seem. So thy girl be saved from a terrible fate.”
The muscles around Brock’s eye socket began twitching fiercely. “Wot be thee sayin’?”
“It be true, Tyler,” Liza said, and then her torment broke. “At least give they a chance. It were thy oath, afore God. And God helped us’n with Tess, lad. Forgive they.” She buried her head in her arms and sobbed convulsively. Brock’s lips moved but no sound came out. He lumbered to his feet, crossed the corridor, and then he was standing before Culum and Tess.
He saw the terror in Tess’s eyes. This hurt him and made him cruel. “Thee choosed to go again’ my wish. Three month, I sayed. But thee—”
“Oh, Da’—oh, Da’—”
“Mr. Brock. Can I—“
“Shut thy face. Thee’ll get thy say soon enough! And thee, Tess, thee choosed to run off like a cheap doxy. Very well. Go say goodbye to thy ma. Then thee’s out of our life and ashore with thy man.”
“Oh, Da’, please listen—”
“Go on! I wan’ t’talk to him.”
“I baint leaving!” Tess shouted hysterically. She picked up the belaying pin. “Thee’ll not touch ‘im. I’ll kill thee!” He snatched the belaying pin out of her hands before she knew he had moved. “Out you go and ashore.” Brock was watching himself as though in a nightmare; he wanted to forgive and he wanted her arms around him, but some depraved other self was driving him and he could not resist. “Out, by God!”
“It’s all right, darling,” Culum said. “Go along and pack your bags.”
She backed out of the cabin, then scurried away.
Brock kicked the door to. “I swore to give thee berth and safe harbor. But that were when you be wedding proper.”
“Listen, Mr. Brock—”
“You listen, by God, or I’ll crush thee like bedbug.” A thread of saliva trickled from a corner of his mouth. “I sayed to thee fair, man t’man, if three month were agreeable. Thee sayed yes. But thee broke thy word. I sayed, ‘Be honest, lad.’ ”
Culum said nothing. He prayed for strength and knew that he was beaten. But he would try, by God.
“Did thee or didn’t thee?”
“Yes.”
“Then I be thinkin’ I be absolved from oath.”
“Can I speak now?”
“I baint finished. But even though thee cheated, thee’s wed. Will thee answer question? Afore God? Then we be even.”
“Of course.” Culum wanted to tell Brock about the pox and the whorehouse and the why of it.
“Afore God?”
“Yes. I’ve nothing to hide and—”
Brock cut him short. “Did thy father plan all this’n? Put elopement into thy head? Knowing it be making Gorth mad? Knowing this’n’d make Gorth so mad he be challenging him in public so thy Da’ be able to fight him fair and square? Did thee go t’whorehouse drunken, not knowing where thee be, with whom thee be? Thee doan have to answer. It’s writ in thy face.”
“Yes—but you must listen. There’s a lot—”
“Thee’s got thy safe harbor from me. But I’ll tell thee square, I’m after thy Da’. I’m after Noble House. I be never resting till they’s broke. Now thy only harbor be in Brock and Sons. Only there, Culum godrotting Struan! And till that day thee’s dead afore my face. Thee and Tess.”
He hurled the door open.
“You haven’t heard my side!” Culum shouted. “That’s not fair!”
“Doan thee talk about ‘fair,’ ” Brock said. “I asked thee to thy face. Three month! I sayed ‘Be honest, lad.’ But thee still broke thy word. Thee’s no honor afore me, by God!”
He strode away and Culum stared after him, his anguish and relief and shame and hate wrenching him. “You’re not fair,” he said, his voice hurting him.
Brock came on deck and the crew kept their distance.
“Pennyworth!”
The second mate turned away from supervising the sorting out of spars and broken rigging and clambered warily over toward Brock.
“Find Struan,” Brock said. “Tell him I be waiting for he at Happy Valley. Twixt his wharf and mine.” He stopped, and his face twisted into a mirthless smile. “No. At knoll in Happy Valley. Yus. His knoll wot were. Tell him I be waiting for he at the knoll in Happy Valley—like he wanted to go again’ Gorth. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Pennyworth bit his lip. “Yes, sir.”
“And if you whisper this to any man but he, by the Lord God, I’ll cut thy balls off.” Brock started down the gangway.
“Who’s to get the ship squared away, sir?”
“Thee. Yo’re cap’n o’ the
White Witch.
After thee delivers message.”
Struan was contemplating Yin-hsi. She was still asleep beside him. He compared her with May-may. And May-may with his Chinese mistress of years ago. And the three of them with Ronalda, his only wife. So different. Yet so much the same in so many ways. And he wondered why the three Orientals excited him more than Ronalda who was his love—until he knew May-may. And he asked himself what love was.
He knew that the three Chinese had much in common: an unbelievable silkiness of skin and a humor and a belongingness and a worldliness beyond anything that he had experienced. But May-may far excelled the other two. She was perfect.
He touched Yin-hsi affectionately. She stirred but did not awaken. He carefully slid out of bed and looked out the portholes to check the sky. The overcast was heavier. He dressed and went below.
“So,” May-may said. She was sitting up in bed, exquisite.
“So,” he said.
“Where’s my sister?”
“ ‘Sup-reem Lady sen’ me.’ ”
“Huh!” May-may said and tossed her head. “You’re just lustful mendacity and you do na adore your old mother any more.”
“True,” Struan said, teasing her. She looked more beautiful than ever, and the gauntness of her face seemed to suit her. “I think I’ll pack you off!”
“Ayeee yah! See if I care!”
He laughed and lifted her up in his arms.
“Be careful, Tai-Pan,” she said. “Did you enjoy Yin-hsi? I’m so pleased you did. I can tell.”
“How would you like to be Tai-tai?”
“Wat?”
“Well, if you’re na interested, that’s the last we’ll say about it.”
“Oh no, Tai-Pan! You mean Tai-tai? Real Tai-tai, according to customs? Oh, you’re na teasing me? Please dinna tease me about so important thing.”
“I’m na teasing, May-may.” He sat on the chair with her in his arms. “We’re going home. Together. We’ll take the first clipper available and be married on the way home. In a few months.”
“Oh, wonderful.” She hugged him. “Let me go a minute.”
He released her, and wobbling slightly, she walked over to the bed. “There. I am almost well again.”
“You get into bed now,” he said.
“You really mean marry? According to your customs? And to mine?”
“Aye. Both, if you wish.”
She knelt gracefully in front of him and touched her forehead to the carpet and kowtowed. “I swear I will be worthy to be Tai-tai.”
He raised her up quickly and put her into the bed. “Dinna do that, lassie.”
“I kowtow because you give me the hugest fantastical great face on earth.” She hugged him again and then pushed him away a little and laughed. “How you like birthday present, heya? Is that why you marry your poor old mother?”
“Nay and aye. It’s just the thought.”
“She’s nice. I like her very gracious much. I’m glad you like her too.”
“Where did you find her?”
“She was a concubine in a house of a mandarin who died six months ago. Did I tell you she was eighteen? His house felt on bad times, so Tai-tai asked a marriage broker to find a good match for her. I heard about her and interviewed her.”
“When? In Macao?”
“Oh no. Two, three months ago.” May-may snuggled closer. “I talk to her in Canton. Jin-qua’s Tai-tai tol’ me about her. When I became with child I thought, Ah, very good, so I sent for her. Because my man is lustful and instead of staying home perhaps goes to whorehouse. You promise na to go, but last night you go whorehouse. Dirty turtle droppings!”
“I did na go with one of the girls. Just to see Aristotle.”
“Huh!” May-may shook a finger in his face. “That’s your story. I dinna mind whores but na those ones. Oh very well, this time I’ll believe you.”
“Thank you kindly.”
“Yin-hsi is special nice, so no need for whorehouses. Oh, I feel so happy. She sings beautiful and plays many instruments and sews nicely and very quick to learn. I teach her the English. She will come to England with us. And Ah Sam and Lim Din.” A slight frown. “But we come back home to China? Very often?”
“Aye. Maybe.”
“Good. We come back of course.” Again a little smile. “Yin-hsi is very accomplished. She is nice in bed?”
Struan’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “I did na make love, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Wat?”
“I like to choose who’s in my bed and when.”
“She’s in your bed and you dinna make love?”
“Aye.”
“I swear to God, Tai-Pan. I never understand you. You do na desire her?”
“Of course. But I decided today was na the time. Tonight maybe yes. Or tomorrow. When I choose. Na before. But I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“I swear to God you’re peculiar. Or maybe you were just so exhausted with a dirty whore you could na respond. Eh?”
“Go on with you.”
There was a knock on the door.