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THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: Things're getting pretty interesting on our little island.

"FORTUNE'S WIND", chapter 11 (really)

by Eric R. Umali

"Contact"

"I want to know only one thing: why are you here?"

Jonny, Jessie, Bannon and Quest now faced a large wooden throne, elevated a few feet above the ground. On the throne sat a woman who was obviously not a native-- past the gold and feathers of an elaborate costume, she was white.

"Who are you?" asked Captain Quest.

One of the natives jabbed at his side with the blunt end of his spear. "You be silent before queen," he said in broken English. "And pray that great Queen Soo Zan-Hau show you mercy. Now answer question."

"We came," Quest began, fumbling for an answer, "by accident. Our ship needed supplies, and... ah... we came ashore for them."

Queen Soo Zan-Hau laughed. "You're a terrible liar," she said derisively. "You came here seeking the lost treasure, like others before you. Although, I must admit you were the only ones to find the mine." She stepped down from the dais and surveyed the prisoners.

"My, my," she said, "what a motley crew." She walked past Jessie, and stopped in front of Bannon. "What have we here?" Her hand slipping beneath his chin, she lifted his head to the light. "Hmmm..." she murmured.

Roger Bannon blinked, taking stock of the woman's expression. "Perhaps," he began, "Your Majesty, I can explain. Might we have a word... in private?"

The queen stood and said something to one of the native guards. With Bannon under several spears, they removed the stake from the ground, and shoved him forward. A small smile on his face, he followed the queen towards the native village.

Jonny turned to the others. "What the bloody hell does Bannon think he's doing?"

"Mr. Bannon," Quest said unsurely, "has a... ah..."

"My father has a... way with the fairer sex," finished Jessie. "He can be rather persuasive."

Jonny sighed. "I see. It runs in the family, I should think."

"What makes you say that?" Jessie asked, glad to have a new subject on her mind.

"You certainly have a way with me."

"I could say the same. You know--"

"Excuse me," said Quest, interrupting the banter. "If you could refrain from this incessant... flirtation for a moment, you'd see that Mr. Bannon and the Queen have returned."

Queen Soo Zan-Hau adjusted her headdress as she took the throne again. Bannon walked a few paces behind, and bent respectfully to one knee.

She cleared her throat, and issued orders to her guards. They moved reluctantly, then were sped my more curt words. The guards immediately cut the captives loose.

"You may put yourselves at ease," said the queen. You will have food and lodging for the night. Tomorrow, you will be given supplies, and you will return to your ship."

"And the treasure?" asked Jonny.

"There is no treasure," she replied.

They soon gathered around a fire in the center of the village, surrounded by huts and tents. Food was served-- roasted game, along with island fruits and vegetables. Jonny and Bannon, the more experienced sailors, dug in immediately, with Quest not far behind. Jessie balked at first at the exotic foods, but was soon overruled by her hunger.

For the next few hours, the queen asked all manner of questions regarding England. Who was in power? What were the fashions? The latest news? She had been marooned there by another band of pirates, and had come to rule over the natives by way of some fortuitous legends.

"What happened to the treasure?" asked Quest.

"The mine was... exhausted many years ago," replied the queen, looking away. "Apparently, whoever it was that the riches were going to told no one of its demise." She quickly took a draught from her cup.

Jessie eventually found Jonny at the edge of the village, staring pensively at the sky.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Unsure, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He put a thankful hand atop hers. "Nothing," he said quietly.

"Nonsense," she replied. "You're disappointed because there's no treasure, probably more for our sake than your own."

"What are you talking about?"

"If we'd found this treasure, would you have really kept as large a share as you said?"

Jonny thought about this for a moment. "No. You, your father and Captain Quest need it more than I."

"I knew it," she gloated, and turned so that they faced each other. "Some pirate you are."

Placing his hands on his hips in a classically defiant pose, he replied, "I think the crews of all the ships I've taken might not share your opinion, Miss Bannon."

"Perhaps," she said, mirroring the pose, "but perhaps the fact that they're around to have that opinion is evidence enough. Face it, Captain, you're not a killer. You're not a kidnapper. And taking gold from the greedy hands of the crown, makes you a poor thief, as well."

Jonny opened his mouth with each point she made, but could think of no arguments.

"You're not much of a cutthroat, Jonny."

He laughed. "I suppose I'm not," he answered. "Raiding only certain ships, avoiding killing wherever possible..." Jonny smiled at Jessie. "Rescuing Naval officers..."

He placed his hands at her waist, pulling her closer. "Taking women aboard the ship and making them part of the crew, even though they're brash..." Jessie's hands glided up his arms.

"...headstrong..."

Their faces were mere inches apart, and getting closer.

"...reckless..."

Closer.

"...brave..."

Closer.

"...beautiful..."

Contact.

Jonny slid his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. Jessie tangled her fingers in his hair. The kiss was long and powerful and ended only when their bodies demanded air. They parted, and Jonny kissed her on the forehead.

"And what of you, Jessie?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin. "You told me you might try your hand at piracy yourself. Are you to be as ruthless as you may be called to be?"

She nestled her head beneath his chin. "No. I suppose I'd be much like you."

"Do you think the seas are big enough for two noble pirate ships?"

"No," she replied again, then lost herself in his blue eyes-- eyes like the sea before a storm. "One ship is most certainly enough."

"I agree."

They stood together there for a long time, in each other's arms.

**********

Aboard the *Talon,* the Royal Governor Jeremiah Surd was sitting down to a much less modest repast than his enemies'. As was his custom, he had brought his personal cook from Jamaica to prepare his meals, and kept his own galley and stores, separate from even the ship's officers, let alone the men before the mast.

Surd drained his cup and gestured lazily. Lawrence, his aide, refilled it immediately.

"A question, Your Excellency?" asked Lawrence.

"What is it?"

"You don't _really_ mean to make this... Rage one of the Queen's privateers, do you?"

The Governor lashed out at the man, sending him stumbling back.

"Of course not, you fool! Once that treasure is aboard the *Talon,* he'll be of no more use to _us_, let alone Her Majesty." He took a long sip of wine.

"Perhaps I'll simply maroon him and his crew here. Out of gratitude."

As it often did, his master's tone sent a cold shiver through Lawrence. Ever curious, however, he spoke again. "And what of the boy and _his_ men?"

Surd placed the cup on the table and stood, slowly and deliberately. He took a few paces away. Suddenly, he spun, a tiny pistol appearing in his grip. There was a loud report as he fired, and the cup exploded. The chair was soaked with cabernet, as was the tablecloth, and the cup, torn and crushed, skittered to the deck.

"Clean it up," Surd hissed, and stepped out the door.

**********

Back on the *Bandit Queen,* Ezekiel Rage was having dinner, as well, though his manners paled in comparison with the governor's. The sloppily stripped remains of a small fowl sat before him, with a large bottle of rum sitting beside it, empty. As Rage swung his feet onto the table, the bottle fell to the deck, hitting with a thud and rolling away.

Rage watched it skitter across the deck, colliding with another empty bottle with a sharp clink. Many similar bottles were scattered around the cabin, along with several unconscious crewmen.

Cursing, he pushed dropped his feet to the deck and slowly pushed himself up. The usually gentle roll of the ship was magnified into violent lurching by the rum. Steadying himself on the table and grasping a new bottle, he moved towards the door.

Staggering onto the deck, Rage surveyed the sailors-- prone and unconscious. *Lubbers, the lot of 'em,* he thought. *But all pirate enough for now. Soon that swab Surd and his ship will lie on the bottom of this cove. Soon I'll have everything I want-- the treasure, the ship, the commission--*

"--and the boy's carcass, swinging from my yardarm," he continued aloud, then took a long pull from the bottle. "Soon."

Hours later came sunrise, and with the new day, the war.

TO BE CONTINUED...