You see, one thing I do know about is piracy, since I'm in the Sweet Trade right up to my muzzle. I was busy...umm...giving my imagination...and my fingers...free rein, dreaming about Far, when I heard the cry go up, "Sail Ho!" I leaped out of the tub and onto the deck without thinking about it, grabbing a telescope on the way out. The instant I emerged, I heard the sound of dropping jaws. I looked down, and saw the reason. Geez, it always happens...in the excitement of taking a prize, I often forget my state of undress. The crew, however, were always very quick to notice. Far says I have a latent exhibitionist tendency.

Ignoring my nudity for the moment, I called to the lookout, "Where away?". I trained my glass on the location she indicated, and saw a nice fat Spanish merchantman, making along slowly and thinking no harm. I ordered a slow pursuit, and ducked back into the Great Cabin to get dressed.

I cast a FurBeeDrie spell on my dripping self. It's on of those common spells, everyfur uses them, that was devised sometime in the Middle Ages to make life for us furs that much easier. After all, have you ever tried to slip on satins and silks over wet fur? Yeegh! I selected blue satin breeches and a white silk blouse, the one with the deep v-neck. Hmm, maybe Far's right about my exhibitionist tendencies. I pulled on knee-boots and plopped a tri-corn on my head, grabbed my favorite cutlass, and dashed back out on deck.

Taking another look at our target, I issued orders. "Double charge all guns! Lay on full sail and hoist the Spanish flag. After her!"

The crew set to work with a will, and, we having the wind of her, made good time on the Spaniard. I sized up the prey...ship of that size normally carries crew of 60, tops, and taking Spanish peso-pinching into account, I figured it more than likely held no more than 40. Easy prey.

We grew nigh to it. Our Spanish ensign was hauled down, and our true colors hoisted, to show them what and who they were up against.

"Heave to and surrender!", I commanded the other ship. In response, they opened with a ragged and poorly aimed broadside. Only one ball out of the six they fired did us any harm, and that was to just punch a hole in one of our sails.

Geez! There's always one, isn't there? Stupid captain and crew wanted to make a fight of it. If you're a captain of some merchant ship and you're reading this, lemme give you some advice, friendly like. Never fight a pirate. It just pisses us off. If you co-operate with us, we just empty out your ship, no one gets hurt, all very business-like, and you can always fill out the insurance claims later. But if you try to make a fight of it, someone's likely to get hurt, and we have to rough you up a bit.

I took over at the wheel. I tacked about till we were broadside to their stern, sort of crossing their T, as't were. My favorite position...for battle, anyway. I gave the order to fire, and the weight of metal from 12 big guns smashed through their stern and ran their deadly course tween decks of the Spaniard. It was enough for them, and they struck their colors.

We came up alongside their vessel, made fast to it, and, wary of any Spanish tricks, sent over some of my best fighters, led by Mange, to secure the prize. That done, Mange signaled the all, clear, and I and the rest of the boarding party came over.

I found myself face-to-face with the Spanish captain. An Ursine. Wouldn't you just figure. Brave, certainly, but not, shall we say, quite fully packed in the brain department.

Now, normally when I take a prize, I wine and dine the captain in my cabin, but this one, by his foolish resistance, had really got my back up, and I wasn't in the mood to be polite. In fact, I was playing around with the idea of keeping the ship and setting him and his crew adrift, but I already had five prizes to take care of, along with the Sea Fury. Any more would have just been ostentatious.

I introduced myself to the captain. "I am Trel'la, of the Sea Fury, and your ship, and all it contains, is mine!" Yeah, yeah...I know, its terribly cliched, but then, when you're a pirate, you do have a reputation to uphold.

He sputtered and spat, doing a fairly credible imitation of an angry cat, for that he was a bear. He pulled himself up to his full height and announced, "I am Don Rodriguez, and I care not for what you say, this is my ship and my cargo. You are nothing but a base-born sea-thief, a deck-trollop, and how dare you plunder from those so far above you, I shall write to the Times about it, and I shall report it to the Governor, and..."

He suddenly fell silent. It wasn't that he ran out of breath (I thought, given the chance, he'd go on forever!), it was because I motioned to Fuzz to bop him on the head with a belaying pin. Good thing it wasn't the time of the full moon and Fuzz wasn't in his Fem cycle, or it might have proved embarrassing.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boarding party had been busy transferring the goodies from the Spaniard to our ship. I went into Don Rodriguez's cabin to snatch up his manifest, charts, and a really neat set of navigational instruments. Mine were getting a little worn. There was also a small, cunningly crafted chest in a niche by his sea-bed. I snatched that, too, without bothering to look within.

I stepped back on deck, and took a quick look at the manifest of the cargo. Ho-hum, nothing exciting: some cloth, tobacco from Trinidad, sugar from Martinique, lots of dry goods. All very prosaic, and all very good sales among the merchants of Port Royale.

The cargo itself was already transferred to the Sea Fury. Hey, whatever else you might say, my crew is efficient! Most of the boarding party was also back over, when Nuttall, a red squirrel came up to me, with three of the Spanish in tow.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Cap'n, but t'ese t'ree, t'ey say as t'ey wants to jine up, t'ey do", the squirrel explained.

I looked the trio over. One was a male rabbit, who scuffed the decks nervously and wouldn't meet my eyes. The other two were twin cats, sisters. However, they seemed like they knew the business of the sea, even the bunny. I nodded.

"Nutt, take 'em over and get their marks on Articles. Explain the Articles and our Rules to them." Nuttall knuckled his forelock and bundled the three over. I followed, cutting the Spaniard loose.

"Gentlefurs, farewell! I thank you for allowing us this most pleasant time together, and I look forward to meeting you again soon!", I mocked he enemy as we slowly drifted apart. Their captain, Don Whateverhisnamewas, just coming around, saw that I was carrying his little chest, and started shouting Spanish obscenities I was rather glad I didn't understand.

But now I had but one thought. Our holds were full, we had taken a fair number of prizes, so forth to home. Home to sell off the goodies and the prizes, and to share out the loot. Home to drink and carouse and dance. Most importantly, home to see my mate again. Thus we set our course for port Royale.

We tied up at dock, and the merchants and merchants' factors came swarming to our little fleet. Normally, I prefer to handle the disposal of our acquired goods myself, but I was all impatience to see Faranus. I collared the quartermaster (literally) and assigned him the task of dealing with the negotiations and the dismissal of the crew. I popped into my cabin to check my hair, then I was out and down the gangplank. Oh, on the way, I grabbed that little chest. Don't know why...

I knew where Far would be waiting for me, of course. The Ruptured Seagull was our favorite dockside haunt, and it was only a few streets down from where we docked. Nonetheless, I ran all the way. There it was...a large tavern with a sign of a bird in a truss. I stepped in. It was quite crowded for the time of day. I looked around, but because of the press, I couldn't see my mate anywhere.

The band on stage was really rocking. They were groovin' to the latest big hit from Germany, Altenburg's Concerto for 7 Trumpets and Timpani. One of the band must have caught sight of me, because they then struck up a rendition of "Entrance of the Queen of Sheba". Oh Gawd, embarrassed again!

I saw a dashing blue-furred form rise up in the middle of the mob. My breath quickened and my heart began to pound. I shouldered and muscled and slinked my way through the tavern patrons. There he was-resplendent and handsome in his dark Navy blues, setting off the lighter blue of his fur-the world's most wonderful ferret, and my heart's desire.

I screamed out, "Far!", and I barely heard his response of "Trel'la!!!", shouted at the top of his lungs, over the roar of the mob. He took me in those strong arms of his, and I whimpered once in sheer joy before our lips pressed together. The kiss was deep, passionate, and seemed to last all too briefly. I felt so safe and secure in his arms, and I once again blessed the day we met, and whichever gods brought us together.

We broke our kiss, and Far led me into one of the back rooms the Seagull keeps for special events, business lunches, and Rotary meetings. The management didn't object to our going in there, however; at least, not since word of what happened at Ratty's when they tried to keep us out got around.

We couldn't help ourselves. The instant we were in, we were back in each other's arms, cooing sweet words to each other.

"Oh, Gods, Love-a month! I've had to wait a whole month for this! How did I manage to last so long without you?", my sweet ferret said while gazing deep into my eyes. I agreed with him, of course. 3 days is too long to go without him, a week without him is very hard on me, and a month? Unbearable!

I whimpered, "Gods, Far, I've missed you so much! Robbing and plundering without you is such a lonely business!"

He chuckled at that, and we got each other caught up, with occasional pauses for hugs, cuddles, kisses, and fond gazes. Then he pointed to the small chest I had. "Whatcha got there, Love?"

"What? Oh, this silly thing. I dunno, just something I picked up from that last ship I took. I haven't evened opened it up yet."

Impelled by my curiosity and Far's encouragement, I at last opened the chest. Great Leaping Mother of Trotsky!

A large cross gleamed and glinted up at us, made of solid gold. At least I think it was solid gold...most of the surface was encrusted with gems of vasty price, revealing only the occasional glistenings of soft yellow metal. Ruddy thing must be worth a bomb! My eyes widened in greed-I had visions of selling the thing off someplace and retiring to a country estate on the proceeds.

There was a note in the chest with the cross, which Far read while I gloated. The basic upshot was that it was a gift for the King of Spain from the Governor of Macao, being transshipped through the Caribees.

My mate was the first to speak. "You know what we have to do with this, don't you?" There was something in his voice, usually so merry, that caught my attention. "We have to return it. To the Governor of San Juan, perhaps..."

"WHAT?!", I shrieked. "Far, Love, are you off your nut? Why, once we fence this thing off, we'll be set for life! We could go anyplace, do anything, have whatever our hearts may desire!", I argued. Was my mate bonkers? Return THIS? Not likely!

He persisted. "Yes, once we sell it off. And where might we do that, Love? You know the merchants don't mind buying up most goods we bring in, but this is very particular, and not at all a very safe sale for them. As for shipping it abroad, well, where? We can't possibly get even a third of its value in the American colonies, and as for Europe, the King of Spain'll have notices out faster than you can say 'Jimmy crack corn'!"

I opened my mouth, but since nothing much came out of it, I shut it back up again. I thought briefly, trying to find a flaw somewhere in my mate's logic, but I couldn't find any. Oh, poo! And there were certain other urges making demands on me that clouded my thinking. "You know, Love, I really hate it when you make sense. Oh, all right, I'll return it! Can't be too much trouble, I suppose (Gawd, how wrong can you get?)

My voice took on a "little kitten" tone, as I took off my hardware (cutlass and pistol belts...). "Far? I...I have a vacancy I need filling. Can you help me?" I was squirming in my growing need. My eyes went all wide and innocent as I spoke.

Far broke out laughing. He always has a hard time taking my "innocent" act seriously. I don't know why...I work hard at it!

The fact that I was in his arms again, trying to claw his shirt off while licking at his muzzle, lips, and ears left him in no doubt of what I was "wanton".

He gasped in mock shock. "Trel'la! Right here? What if someone should hear?! His grin, and the fact that he was helping me with his buttons, told me his objections were just to tease me...like I needed it just then!

I growled deep in my throat. "Let 'em listen! Besides, with the noise out in the common room, no one'll ever be able to hear us, unless Ruddigore's turned on that damn PA thing of his again. It's been a month, Love...I need you!!!"

I'm trying to keep this clean, so you'll just have to use your imagination to fill the rest of this scene. We did eventually go up to our room, neither bothering to dress, just carrying our clothes up with us. And that jeweled cross, too. Once we got into bed, we found ourselves again making up for lost time, in a more comfortable place than a hard wooden table with the chance of splinters. Eventually, exhausted, we slept in each others arms.

In Jamestown, it was. I was sitting in a tavern, working on some charts, when I saw, just out of the corner of my eye, a flash of Navy blue approaching. It spoke, "May I sit?"

I glared up, preparing a hot retort for Navy boy, when I got a proper look at him. My heart did a double-take, then flew up to my throat and just hung around there, fluttering. My Gawd, I thought, he's better looking than a glass of iced tea, and that's saying something! My hot retort turned into silly schoolkitten stammers and giggles. He sat, and we looked into each other's eyes, and our gazes locked for a few minutes. I was finally able to look away, blushing (and have you any idea just how hard it is for an ocelot to blush?), while it was his turn to stammer out an apology.

"You're Captain Trel'la?", he asked.

I looked at him blankly for a minute. I wasn't yet used to hearing my name and "captain" together, and anyway, the pounding of my heart in my throat made it difficult to hear. I finally realized he was talking to me, and I acknowledged his query.

He gazed at me earnestly. "Why does someone as young and beautiful as you follow such a nefarious trade as piracy? You know its a brutal business, followed by ruffians and those at war with the entire world! Surely, there are better occupations for you to pursue.

I'd heard so many times that I'm so beautiful that the statement had become almost meaningless to me. But hearing this young lieutenant say so made me quiver and tremble inside. Many had also asked me what the divil I was doing being a pirate, and I usually chased off those questioners with a contrived display of bad feline temper. But to this fur, I wanted to answer, to defend the honor, what little there was, of my profession.

"Well, love, what would you have me do? Waiting tables isn't to my taste, never was; the crew pays me not to sing; and as for the other choice...making a living working on my back would get boring real quick (he had the good grace to blush). Besides, in sea-roving, an ambitious fur can get ahead in the world and make a profit for hirself. Why, my first voyage, alongside Cap'n Silver, I cleared 75 gold Spanish dollars...and that was just as a cabin-kitten. How much do you make in a full year as naval officer? Anyway, its a lot of times the rich and the powerful that rail against us, but are we more dishonest than the rest of the fur-kindred? After all, they rob the poor under the cover of law, while we plunder the rich under the protection of our own courage. What we win is our own, by the law of arms and the right of conquest. And I've as much right to war on the rest of the world as any civil prince with fleets and armies."

I gave Navy a bold glance, and added "In honest service, there's low wages and hard labor; in our life there's ease and plenty, liberty and power; and who would not choose such a life when all the risk there is to run for it is but a sour look or two at choking. You'd do most well for yourself if you were to sign on, and make one with us." I was trying, you see, to win him over to me. I didn't think I had a snowball's chance, but it was worth the try.

After my speechifying, I was quite thirsty, and guzzled my tea. I'm rare among the Brethren in that I don't drink much alcohol. Don't smoke, either, although I'm fond of tobacco for the profit it brings in. I could see the uniformed ferret was thinking hard on what I told him about the Sweet Trade, but I'd had a long day, and I had to be up frightfully early the next morning, so I excused myself, and went off to bed.

I didn't sleep well at all. Tensions of starting a new voyage, of being in command, and too much tea all conspired to keep me awake. What little sleep I did get was haunted by overly vivid dreams of ferrets in naval uniforms.

Early next morn, after settling my account with the tavern, I made my way to the barque Sea Fury. My ship! Standing next to the boarding plank was a splendid blue-furred ferret in uniform, the very officer with whom I chatted last night. I wondered what he wanted.

When I approached, he drew himself to full military attention. Captain Trel'la of the Sea Fury? I am 1st Lieutenant Faranus of the Royal Navy."

Oh, that's just peachy, I thought. He's gonna try to arrest me in full view of my crew! Indeed, those of the crew within ear-shot had stopped their work and were paying very close attention, some fingering their fatal hardware.

"I have listened and thought about what you told me last night", the ferret continued, "and have made up my mind. Where do I sign to join up with you?"

I brightened, and breathed a very deep sigh of relief, that made some of my crew gasp and swear, "Cor Blimey!" No dockside violence today! And I was glad to get him to come over to us. For one thing, he was incredibly gorgeous...still is, too. And he still makes my heart thump wildly. For another thing, having been a naval officer, what knew what the sharp end of a ship was, and how to get it to point in the way you wanted it to go. Always helps, that.

Many adventures later, we were still together, and had, in fact, joined ourselves together, body, heart, mind and soul. We were mate...and pirates!

I wasn't happy about this cruise. It wasn't so much the idea of actually returning such a rich prize, quite...Far was right, where would we sell it? It was more that I was worried how we would go about returning it...I had a growing concern that something was going to go wrong, and I was beginning to fear for the safety of my crew, and especially for that of my mate. I was getting seriously worried that something terrible was going to happen to him, and I'd do anything to prevent that, even at the risk of my own life. Far had been hinting that he should be the one to slip the cross into the city-sneaking around places comes natural to a ferret, he said. I hadn't told him yet, but I wasn't going to allow him off the ship. I took the cross, and I'd return the ruddy thing, and take the risks myself.

And so we sailed on, the crew confident in me, and I increasingly fearful. I would not let my precious mate walk into a potential trap, never! We sheltered in a cove close to San Juan, and there we finalized our plans. Far masterminded the operation, and I agreed with every detail but one.

"No, Love. I'll take this wretched thing into the city. After all, it was I who snatched it in the first place. I want you here with the ship, in case of trouble"

There was...well, quite a discussion about which one of us should go into the city, with my mate insisting his ferret form gave him the best chance of success, and with me doing all I could to convince him otherwise. I finally succeeded, but Far was none too happy about it. I was able to soothe him with lots of snuggling and purrs, but I was glad he'd be staying where it was safe. After all, risking your fur in the heat of battle is one thing, and we've done that often enough, but walking wide-eyed into your enemy's stronghold is quite different.

So, there I was, alone, in the dark, trying to find a way into the fair city of San Juan. I managed to find a gap in the town wall, barely enough for me to squeeze through. Good thing I watch my shape! Luckily, my entrance was as close to San Juan Cathedral as possible-but the church was still some way off in the city. I had selected the cathedral as the best place to return the cross, and besides, if I were caught, I could always claim religious sanctuary.

I stalked, crept, and, where I had to, crawled along the streets and narrow alleys of San Juan, striving always to keep myself in the shadows. There, finally, looming dark above me, stood San Juan Cathedral. Now to slip in, put the cross someplace obvious with a note explaining how to make a profit on the insurance claims, then out again and into the arms of my mate.

But, of course, it wasn't so easy. I got into the church readily enough, but it was so dark inside that even my feline eyes had trouble coping. It certainly smelled wrong, almost as if...

Off to my left, a voice shouted, "Lights", and I was briefly dazzled as torches flared to life. A crowd of soldiers were in the church with me, in breastplate and morion, armed and ready for fun. "Rumbled!", I thought, and quickly tallied up the odds. Too many to fight, so I started in on Plan B, and opened my mouth to claim the right of holy shelter. Yeah, like I got real far, because the troopers rushed me before I could say a word. They bore me to the floor, and I thrashed around and caught one or two of the soldiers with my claws before they subdued me.

"So, the great Pyrate Captain Trel'la! I have caught you at last! You thought you could sneak around here, but I knew you'd try to slip in, cuz I'm clever, me! I've got it here!" The gloating voice came from a rather stocky human, dressed (in the worst possible taste) in black velvet from head to toe. The Governor of San Juan. He stepped close to me to gloat some more as I struggled in my captors' grasp.

Although I had seen it before, I was amazed how these villains somehow manage to talk using exclamation points. I was also puzzled and troubled about how he knew I'd be in town. Had a ship seen us, despite all our care; or, even worse, was there a traitor amongst the crew?

"Now", he continued, "what shall we do with you? Ahhhh, I know! A nice, fancy show trial, that all may see the perils of defying the power of Spain. After that, a most pleasant execution...we'll invite everyone, make a party of it! Won't that be fun? But first..."

He gestured to some fur behind me, and I felt a sickening crash against my head, and darkness engulfed me.

And so I was led into court, constrained by chains. I don't mind a little bondage now and then, but this was a bit much! And my quarters for my stay in San Juan were hardly attractive. Don't these Spanish have any sense of hospitality? I mean, considering the legal show they were planning to feature me in, you'd think they'd have the courtesy to give me decent accommodations!

For some reason, that song from The Beggar's Opera kept going through my head all during my trial. They certainly weren't taking any chances! The courtroom was guarded by a platoon of bears...not very bright...slow, too; but Trotsky's Mother, they're strong! This was no jury trial, either...three judges sat in tribunal over me, the ranking judge being the Governor himself.

The charges read against me involved a long list of ships taken, towns raided, affronts to morality, disrespect for high church officials, dealing in stolen goods, and cheating at cribbage (I never!) I pointed out to the court that they left out a few ships, and how could they possibly have forgot my raid on Maracaibo? I thought it was particularly daring, considering the Silver Train was in town at the time. All I got for my efforts to correct the record was an additional charge...mockery of this august court and it's judicial proceedings.

And of course, my trial just had to drag on for several days. It didn't help matters any that just about every fur in the courtroom insisted on using 10 words where one would have done nicely. These lawyers have no sense of economy of language! And I don't know why they even bothered with the trappings of legality, anyway. I knew what the outcome would be as well as anyfur else.

Came the sentencing...The judges gave me a long and grave speech on the utter and unrepentant wickedness of my life, the hatefullness of my piratical career, the sinfulness of my soul, and they concluded with the traditional, "You, the said Trel'la, shall go from hence to the place from when you came, and from thence to the place of execution, where you shall be hanged by the neck till you are dead." Well, there it was...that sour look at choking was nigh to me.

They came for me early like, and led me out into the early dawn's rosy light. They bundled me into a cart, and we rode from the prison to the gallows at El Morro. Quite a crowd had turned out for my big day, but I can't say I felt especially flattered. Well, at least I got a nice tour of San Juan...I made a particular point to note the location of the Governor's Palace, so I would know where to go to haunt the place.

The fortress of El Morro loomed closer and closer, and sooner than I would have wished, we were there. My guards lugged me out of the cart, and escorted me up to the gallows. There was a priest there, and he was making much over me, trying to "save my imperiled soul" (didn't that fox have anything better to do?). I ignored him, and, turning my back on the assembled audience, gazed outward to sea. I gazed longingly at a ship I saw in the distance, so resembling my own Sea Fury...in fact, if I didn't know better...But even if it was, it was too far away, and too out of range, to be of any help to me.

I tried to resign myself to my fate. Execution and death is something every pirate has to come to terms with. The only thing that troubled me, and brought a tear to my eye, was that I would never see my precious mate again. Well, maybe there is an afterlife, and we can again be together. I comforted myself with the thought that at least it wasn't Faranus that was up here instead of me, but how he'd cope when he heard of my execution, I don't know. At least there'd be a lot of furs shipboard to help him through his grief. But heaven help the Spanish when he would learn of my passing, since I knew there'd be no earthly power that would stop his course of vengeance.

I took another look at the ship...I frowned...Why, by Bastet, it sure nuff did look like the Sea Fury. I didn't have a chance to contemplate that any longer, for the guards around me turned me, rather roughly, to face the crowd. I hissed and spat at them, wishing I could do more. I gazed at the crowd for a last time, as the executioner slipped the noose about my neck. Hey! Was that Fuzz...and Mange, out there? Nah...not possible.

I stood, as proudly as I could, as the officials made their speeches about the iniquity of the piratical life. They weren't going to allow me the traditional last words, so I could only stand and wait for my execution. I looked puzzled...the gallows seemed to be...vibrating. Well, that's not a normal thing for oak to do! The vibrations grew in intensity, and the gallows started to hum. Well, that seemed to get everyfurs' attention! The structure of the gallows took as much vibrating as it could, then surrendering to the power of physics, burst asunder, shattering into tiny shreds of wood and spilling me down onto the deck. At the same time, some of the crowd drew weapons and started in on carving up the guards, while the others in the crowd ran away for safety from this unexpected turn-up.

I could hardly believe it! I was actually being rescued from a certain fate! That really was Fuzz and Mange, and others of the crew. I didn't see Far, though...where was he?. All I could do about my situation, other than wonder where my mate was, was to kick and thrash, and try to trip up anyone I could that had a Spanish accent. After all, my arms were tied behind me, so I couldn't pull that trick with flailing around with chains, like they do in the books. After all, this wasn't a story, this was Real Life!

The surprise of this rescue attack was total, and the Spanish were hindered as well by the panicked attempts of the civilians to flee the sudden outbreak of fighting, and getting in the way of their own soldiers. My crew were not so hindered. Mange came up and stood guard over me, and I heard the distinctive sound of a long 24 pounder firing. Gods and Goddesses, it was the Sea Fury. It must have just got into range, for I heard the roar of solid shot tearing through the air. The Dons, demoralized, with their morning's entertainment completely ruined, ran off for a nice place to hide, the Governor leading them all the way.

My bonds were cut, and I struggled to my feet. I was half led, half carried to the beach, where there were boats waiting, and we rowed out to the ship. I was exalting in my freedom and escape from death when I boarded the Sea Fury...never had it seemed so beautiful. The first thing I noticed was that my mate was nowhere to be seen. Strange, I'd have thought that he'd be bounding into my arms...Emil, our ship's doctor, came out of the Great Cabin. "Where Far? Where's my mate?", I demanded. Had something happened to him?

Emil took me back into the cabin. Laying unconscious on our bed was Faranus...he was hardly breathing, and he seemed so cold. "What's happened to him?", I asked Emil.

"We all found out something about your mate, Trel'la. He has the Great Magicks...he cast forth the spell that burst your gallows, but the distance was so great for a spell like that, that he collapsed just afterwards. I think he put everything he had into that spell...I really can't tell you if he'll live or not. I've done what I could, but..."

I glared at Emil. Was I to be rescued, only to lose my mate, the greatest treasure I've ever known? "Get out!", I snarled at the doctor, and he slipped quietly out, leaving Far and I together alone.

"Oh, Gods, Far, noooo...you can't leave me, you just can't!" Was it to come to this? Would I have gone through all I have, only to lose my mate, more important than my life, at the end? Nooo...no! No, I won't allow it!

"Far? Can you hear me? I hope so, Mate, and you'd better listen! I'm not going to let you go! Do you understand me? If you leave me, I'll come hunting for you, and I'll drag you back to me, even from the Other Side. I refuse to let you go!"

I went on like that for some time, laying next to my Love and whispering my words and threats in his ear. At length, I feel asleep...well, it had been a long day for me...taken out for execution early in the morning, rescued where I expected only death, then finding my mate preparing for the Beyond. Any wonder I flaked out?

I woke to a ferret sneeze. I started, and looked at Far...he was looking back at me, and smiling...weakly, true, but he was smiling. And he was awake! "I'm afraid I rather overdid it getting you out of trouble that time, Love, but I couldn't let anything happen to you...", he explained.

"Hush, Love...you rest for now." I bellowed for Emil..."Doc! You get your mangy, flea-bitten hide in here this instant!" I didn't know if he was in earshot or not, but if he wasn't, I know someone was, and would get the word to him.

A couple minutes passed, which I spent in grooming Far, then Emil came rushing in. He saw that his patient was awake, and gave him as good a going over as he could, with me clinging to my mate.

The doctor gave his prognosis. "Well, I don't really understand it, since I was sure you were at death's door, Far, but so far as I can see, all you need now is some rest, the right food...you should be fine soon."

Far tried to explain. "Guess I was just drifting around...I remember feeling so tired, and I just wanted to find someplace to rest. I heard a voice...don't really know whose it was...making some dire threats...saying it would come after me and drag me back...things like that. It got my attention, that it did."

I laughed and sobbed in my relief...good thing I was in bed with my mate, because I could feel I was near collapse. "Far? You never said...never told me you could do Magick like that."

"I'm sorry, Love...old family secret. I couldn't tell you because of injunctions placed on me...however much I wanted to. In fact, I wasn't able to cast any spells until an incident of crisis proportions occurred. I'd say today qualified..."

We were both yawning, and close to sleep. We both needed a good rest, but I had one last thing to say to my mate. "Far? Next time we find a treasure like that cross...we keep it, okay?!" And with that, we were both asleep.

Well, some historical notes. The grand stage is Earth, and the political boundaries are about the same. But this is an Earth where magick exists, although the Great magicks are being practiced less and less as the Age of Reason progresses. Minor, functional magicks are, however, commonly practiced. It was magick, in the Middle Ages, that brought us Furries into being in the first place. Then something happened, I dunno what yet, that sharply decreased the human population (perhaps the Plague was worse than history tells us), and Furries have become the dominant intelligence on Earth. There's still some humans around, some in positions of power, but generally, humans aren't a major player any more. Religion is no longer a source of conflict and contention, but nationalism still is. So, the forces that drove colonization in RL, still exists in this Furry version. Oh, and I know Port Royale was destroyed by earthquake in RL, but its such a prime place for romance and derring-do, well, I just had to keep it around!

Trel'la