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BOOK I
Chapter 1 31 December 1856 Wednesday Morning
ANDREW Adams
banged open the front door of the Bee Hive Tavern byemploying the drunk and disorderly French sailor as a battering ram, and,planting a foot firmly on the seat of his duck trousers, sent the man sailing outinto the street. By stretching out his legs and flapping his arms, the Frenchman just managed to keep his balance, but the motion made him appear ridiculous.Sailors, whores, ship chandlers and boarding house owners spilled out into thestreet, hoping to be entertained by yet another Hong Kong street brawl. PassingChinese policemen in conical hats and filthy uniforms laughed and pointed,infuriating the sailor still further.
As the man reached for his sheath knife, he spun around to see Adamswithdrawing his own knife from his boot. Adams spoke in the calm, steadymanner he used on all drunks who began fights inside the tavern; a tone of voiceperfectly balanced between threat and empathy. "You're addled with ale, mate,but there's no need for trouble; go back to your ship and sleep it off." Adamspointed the tip of his razor-sharp blade to the nearby White Swan Tavern. "Ortry your luck there."The sailor hesitated. He looked at Adams for several seconds, sizing himup as an opponent. Something he saw made him move his hand away from thehilt of his knife. He gave Adams a mock salute and spat out something in Frenchwhich Adams didn't understand. Ignoring the taunts of the disappointed crowd,the man disappeared down a lane in the direction of Thieves Hamlet.As the crowd dispersed, Adams replaced his knife and turned backtoward the tavern. He stared for a moment at the large wooden sign above thedoor. He read the lines just below the colorful bee hive swarming with bees. Within this hive, we're all aliveAnd pleasant is our honey;If you are dry, step in and tryWe sell for ready money The week before, drunken soldiers from the 59th Regiment had used thesign for target practice and, as Anne had reminded him more than once, theseveral bullet holes dotting the tavern's motto would have to be patched.
Adams pulled his monkey jacket tighter against the morning cold andwalked down the lane to the harbor. He balanced himself upon a large stone andshielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. Amid the Western frigates and brigsand sloops-of-war and clipper ships, the huge Chinese junk was still there.Adams estimated its length at over two-hundred-and-twenty feet and its beam atnearly forty-five feet. A Chinese admiral had commanded her at the head of afleet of over two hundred imperial war junks. It was far more majestic than any junk Adams had ever seen and was the special prize of Rear-Admiral Sir MichaelSeymour, K.C.B., highly decorated Commander of British Naval Forces in theChina Seas, who had just recently returned from having given the defiant city ofCanton a useless and inconsequential shelling. Not having enough troops toattack by land, Seymour had withdrawn his squadron and returned to HongKong to await reinforcements; but his "retreat" had been reported to the DragonThrone in Peking as a great victory against the "long-nosed barbarians"occupying Hong Kong Island.The junk was a five-masted, black-and-red vessel with square stern andsquare bow. The battened sails had been lowered and they clung to the lowerreaches of the masts like spiked insects fluttering helplessly in the breeze.Colorful flags still draped the foremast and a pennant with an angry, five-claweddragon against a background of imperial yellow clung to the mainmast. Adamssquinted to examine the deck cannon. If his plan succeeded, before the day wasover, he and Captain Weslien would put those cannon to good use.Adams glanced at his cheap mosaic pocket watch. It was just beforenoon. He looked across the harbor at Kowloon, then glanced to the west, where,several hours from now, Weslien would be sailing the mail steamer into the
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