A/N: new chappie! enjoy!
Chapter 11: The Deadly Plot
"What are they that would speak with me?" Horatio frowned at one of the crew members as he stood outside the captain's cabin of the Wittenburg, Hamletta having left him in charge of her ship until her own prophesied return.
"Seafaring men, Sir," the sailor replied. "They say they have letters for you."
Horatio frowned in thought before nodding, waving him on as he turned to head into the cabin, saying, "Let them come in."
The sailor nodded and hurried to bring the sailors to him as Horatio stepped into the cabin, leaning back on the desk and crossing his arms. He stared at a spot on the floor in deep thought.
"I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lady Hamletta," he murmured to himself before looking up to the doorway when he saw movement. One of his sailors was leading the others to him as he stood and once the strangers were in the cabin, the other sailor shut the door as he left.
"God bless you, Sir," one sailor nodded, respectfully.
"Let Him bless thee, too," Horatio nodded back.
"He shall, Sir, an 't please Him," the sailor replied, digging into his breeches pocket. "There's a letter for you, Sir. It came from th' ambassador that was bound for England. If your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is."
He lifted the letter toward Horatio who snatched it and opened it, nearly ripping it as he turned to step behind the desk to sit in the chair and read.
Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the King. They have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor, and in the grapple I boarded them. On the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy, but they knew what they did: I am to do a good turn for them. Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England; of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.
Her that thou knowest thine,
Hamletta
Horatio sighed, tiredly as he lowered the letter to the desk, running a hand through the mass of black curls on his head before looking to the sailors in front of him. He stood and hurried toward them.
"Come," he urged. "I will give you way for these your letters and do 't the speedier that you may direct me to him from whom you brought them."
The Denmark...
"Now must your conscience my acquaintance seal," Claudius explained to Laertes as they sat at his desk in the captain's cabin after calming the young man. "And you must put me in your heart for friend, sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, that he which hath your noble father slain pursued my life."
"It well appears," Laertes nodded, sitting forward to lean on the desk. "But tell me why you proceeded not against these feats, so criminal and so capital in nature, as by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else, you mainly were stirred up."
"O, for two special reasons," Claudius smirked, leaning back in his chair to lift his feet and set his boots on the table. "Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed, but yet to me they're strong. The Queen her mother lives almost by her looks, and for myself – my virtue or my plague, be it either which – she is so conjunctive to my life and soul that, as the star moves not by in her sphere, I could not but by her."
He trailed off at the thought of Gertrude, staring at a spot on the wall before remembering himself and looking back to Laertes, continuing, "The other motive why to a public count I might not go is the great love the general gender bear him, who, dipping all his faults in their affection, work like the spring that turneth wood to stone, convert his gyves to graces, so that my arrows, too slightly timbered for so loud a wind, would have reverted to my bow again, but not where I have aimed them."
Laertes breathed through his nose, gritting his teeth, growling, "And so have I a noble father lost, a brother driven into desperate terms, whose worth, if praises may go back again, stood challenger on mount of all the age for his perfections!"
He slammed his fists on the desk before meeting Claudius' gaze with a glare, stating, "But my revenge will come."
"Break not your sleeps for that," Claudius warned, swinging his feet off the desk to stand and step toward a box on the shelf behind him and remove two bottles from it, stepping around the desk to hand one of the bottles of rum to Laertes then leaned on the edge of the desk, facing the young man. "You must not think that we are made of stuff so flat and dull that we can let our beard be shook with danger and think it pastime."
Claudius took a swig of his rum bottle as Laertes took a long draught before the Pirate King leaned forward to place a hand on his shoulder, catching his gaze.
"You shortly shall hear more," Claudius assured Laertes. "I loved your father, and we love ourself, and that, I hope, will teach you to imagine—"
He was cut off by a knock on his cabin door and Laertes stood as Claudius frowned at the door when one of his crew entered.
"How now?" Cluadius called, unmoving from leaning on his desk, taking a swig of rum before questioning, "What news?"
"Letters, my lord, from Hamletta," the man replied, stepping toward him with an extended hand, the letters in it as Claudius choked on his next swig and Laertes looked to him in shock. "These to your Majesty…"
Claudius took the letters with wide eyes before the man reached into the satchel on his belt again and pulled out another letter, adding, "…this to the Queen."
"From Hamletta?" Claudius breathed with a frown, taking the last letter and setting it aside to look at the ones addressed to him before looking back at the sailor to question, "Who brought them?"
"Sailors, my lord, they say," he replied as Claudius began downing his rum. "I saw them not. They were given me by Claudio. He received them of him that brought them."
"Laertes, you shall hear them," Claudius assured him, seeing his anxiety and feeling his own as he opened the first letter then looked to the sailor to order, "Leave us."
Claudius pulled open the first letter as his cabin door shut and he took a moment to read over a few lines before standing to pace and read aloud to Laertes who sat again.
High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes when I shall – first asking your pardon – thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return.
Hamletta
"What should this mean?" Claudius scoffed, nervously, still pacing as Laetres watched him, drinking from his bottle of rum and Claudius took another swig from his own bottle before continuing, "Are all the rest come back? Or is it some abuse and no such thing?"
"Know you the hand?" Laertes wondered.
"'Tis her character," Claudius nodded, still looking at the letter. "'Naked'—And in a postscript here she says 'alone.' Can you advise me?"
Claudius handed the letter to Laertres who took it and examined it before shrugging and shaking his head replying, "I am lost in it, my lord. But…"
He handed the letter back to Claudius with a smirk, leaning back in his chair when the Pirate King took it with a frown.
"Let her come," Laertes finished. "It warms the very sickness in my heart that I shall live and tell her to her teeth 'Thus didst thou'."
Laertes took another swig through a chuckle, the rum obviously going to his head as Claudius nodded with a smirk.
"If it be so, Laertes," Claudius replied, bowing slightly before turning to saunter around his desk and sit in his chair again. "As how should it be so? How otherwise? Will you be ruled by me?"
"Aye, my lord," Laertes nodded. "So will not o'errule me to a peace."
"To thine own peace," Claudius nodded, both lifting their bottles of rum, taking a swig before Claudius spoke again. "If she be now returned, as checking at her voyage, and that she means no more to undertake it, I will work her to an exploit, now ripe in my device, under the which she shall not choose but fall, and for her death no wind of blame shall breathe, but even her mother shall uncharge the practice and call it accident."
"My lord, I will be ruled, the rather if you could devise it so that I might be the organ," Laertes requested, frantically.
Claudius smirked and nodded, "It falls right. You have been talked of since your travel much, and that in Hamletta's hearing, for a quality wherein they say you shine. Your sum of parts did not together pluck such envy from her as did that one, and that, in my regard, of the unworthiest siege."
"What part is that, my lord?" Laertes frowned in wonder.
"A very ribbon in the cap of youth," Claudius smirked again. "Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes the light and careless livery that it wears than settled age his sables and his weeds, importing health and graveness. Two months since here was a gentleman of the Normandy. I have seen myself, and served against, the French, and they can well on horseback, but this gallant had witchcraft in 't. He grew unto his seat, and to such wondrous doing brought his horse as had he been encorpsed and demi-natured with the brave beast. So far he topped my thought that I in forgery of shapes and tricks come short of what he did."
"A Norman was 't?" Laertes wondered, thoughtfully.
"A Norman," Claudius nodded.
"Upon my life, Lamord," Laertes scoffed.
"The very same," Claudius nodded again.
"I know him well," Laertes nodded, leaning back in his chair. "He is the brooch indeed and a gem of all the nation."
"He made confession of you, and gave you such a masterly report for art and exercise in your defense, and for your rapier most especial, that he cried out 'twould be a sight indeed if one could match you." Claudius paused to take a swig of his rum before continuing, "The 'scrimers of their nation he swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye, if you opposed them. Sir, of this report of his did Hamletta so envenom with her envy that she could nothing do but wish and beg your sudden coming-o'er, to play with you. Now out of this…"
Claudius smirked, his plan coming together in his mind and Leartes frowned at him in wonder when he trailed off.
"What out of this, my lord?" Laertes asked, on the edge of his seat with anticipation.
"Laertes, was your father dear to you?" Claudius wondered, making Laertes' frown deepen in more wonder. "Or are you like a painting of sorrow…a face without a heart?"
"Why ask you this?" Laertes ground out through gritted teeth.
"Not that I think you did not love your father," Claudius quickly added, then continued, "But that I know love is begun by time and that I seem in passages of proof, time qualifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the very flame of love a kind of wick or snuff that will abate it, and nothing is at a like goodness still. For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, dies in his own too-much. That we would do we should do when we would, for this 'would' changes and hath abatements and delays as many as there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, and then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh, that hurts by easing."
Claudius took the last drink from his bottle of rum and leaned on his desk, closer to Laertes, saying, "But to the quick of th' ulcer: Hamletta comes back. What would you undertake to show yourself indeed your father's son more than in words?"
Laetres nearly slammed his bottle on the desk to stand from his chair and lean over on the desk to look Claudius in the eye, growling, "To cut his throat in the church."
Claudius gave a slow, dark, amused grin, replying, "No place indeed should murder sanctuarize…revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes, will you do this?"
Laertes looked to an invisible spot on the desk before looking back to Claudius and giving a nod. Claudius' grin grew wider as Laertes sat again and the Pirate king leaned forward once more to divulge his plan.
"Keep close within your chamber. Hamletta, returned, shall know you are come home. We'll put on those shall praise your excellence and set a double varnish on the fame the Frenchman gave you…bring you, in fine, together and wager on your heads. She, being remiss, most generous, and free from all contriving, will not peruse the foils, so that with ease, or with a little shuffling, you may choose a sword unbated, and in a pass of practice requite him for your father."
Feeling quite pleased with himself and his plan, Claudius leaned back in his chair again and set his boots on the surface of his desk again.
"I will do 't," Laertes nodded, taking the last drink of his rum. "And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword. I bought an unction of a mountebank so mortal that, but dip a knife in it, where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, collected from all simples that have virtue under the moon, can save the thing from death that is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point with this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly, it may be death."
"Let's further, think of this," Claudius advised, rubbing his chin in thought before adding, "Weigh what convenience both of time and means may fit us to our shape. If this should fail, and that our drift look through our bad performance, 'twere better not assayed. Therefore this project should have a back or second that might hold if this did blast proof."
Laertes nodded in agreement before opening his mouth to suggest something.
"Soft," Claudius stopped him from saying anything, staring ahead in thought. "Let me see. We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings…"
He trailed off in thought, still not looking to Laertes before lowering his feet from his desk and slamming his fist onto its surface, grinning at Laertes, "I have it! When in your motion you are hot and dry – as make your bouts more violent to that end – and that she calls for drink, I'll have prepared her a chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping, if she by chance escape your venomed stuck, our purpose may hold there."
The young man grinned, deviously, but both men jumped in surprise when they heard a wailing sound from outside the door. They both stood, instantly when the doors to the cabin flew open and Gertrude ran in, tears spread over her cheeks and panting from running.
"But stay," Claudius frowned in wonder as he hurried toward Gertrude. "What noise?"
"One woe doth tread upon another's heel, so fast they follow," she sobbed, shaking her head in sorrow before she stepped toward Laertes, choking and sobbing, "You brother's drowned, Laertes."
Laertes eyes shot wide at Gertrude, his face going pale as Claudius sighed, running a hand of exhaustion through his silver hair. Gertrude gave a few more sobs as Laertes slowly lowered himself back into his chair, still staring at Gertrude.
"Drowned?" he breathed. "Where?"
"There is a willow grows askant the brooke that shows his hoar leaves I the glassy stream ashore," she shuddered, trying to calm her sobs as she explained. "Therewith fantastic garlands did he make of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, that liberal shepherds give a grosser name, but our cold maids do 'dead men's fingers' call them.
"There on the pendant boughs his coronet weeds clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke, when down his weedy trophies and himself fell in the weeping brook. His clothes spread wide, and mermaid-like awhile they bore him up, which time he chanted snatches of old lauds, as one incapable of his own distress or like a creature native and endued unto that element.
"But long it could not be till that his garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from his melodious lay…to muddy death."
Gertrude choked out the last word and she lifted her hands to her face to sob into them as Laertes looked away from her, his eyes red with tears as he stared ahead in disbelief.
"Alas," Laertes breathed, a tear running down his cheek. "Then…he drowned."
"Drowned…drowned!" Gertrude sobbed.
He lowered his head into his hand with a heavy, sorrowful sigh, replying, "Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelio, and therefore I forbid my tears. But yet it is our trick…nature her custom holds, let shame say what it will. When these are gone, the woman will be out."
He sniffled loudly before wiping his face and standing, abruptly, catching Claudius and Gertrude's gazes.
"Adieu, my lord," he nodded, respectfully through a broken tone. "I have a speech o' fire that fain would blaze, but that this folly drowns it."
The couple watched him march out of the cabin, the door slamming behind him and Claudius stepped toward Gertrude, gently gripping her arm as she looked to him.
"Let's follow, Gertrude," he murmured then sighed, "How much I had to do to calm his rage! Now fear I this will give it start again. Therefore, let's follow."
Gertrude sniffled, drying her eyes and nodding as Claudius gently pulled her toward the door to follow him.
A/N: reviews?
