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"I'm not sure that I ever want to go on a boat again."

The speaker, tall and lanky, slung a worn bag over his back and motioned for his companion to follow him down the ships gangplank. "First pirates, then ugly surprises and just when you think everything is fine, you run into a storm. It's wonderful to be home again."

"I wonder if anything's changed since we left. The Prince...I wonder if he got home all right. He seemed a little strange the last time we talked."

The tall lanky man laughed and gave his shorted friend a playful shove. "You...talk to the Prince. It was me that always did the talking."

"Maybe...but I'm the one that got us out of the situation in England. C'mon, our coach is waiting. Nice of them to send one actually."

An hour later, the two found themselves standing in an elaborate throne room, dressed in far better clothes then before, and looking slightly fidgety. At last a regent arrived to announce the King.

"All hail the sovereign King of Denmark – conqueror of the Polack and Preserver of Peace – his most royal King Fortinbras."

The shorter one choked a little as he gave a deep bow, confusion and surprise written on his face. His friend was little better, except that he managed to smile slightly.

"I thank you for coming straight away," said the King regally. "You, I am told, are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?"

The tall one coughed slightly. "Actually, Milord, I am Guildenstern, and this Rosencrantz. How can we be of service to your highness?"

The King leaned forward. "I am told that you were sentenced to death, for crimes you did not commit. One Horatio, a close friend of the late Prince Hamlet, told me..."

"Milord!"

Guildenstern suddenly interrupted the King, his face a flaming red. "Milord, what do you mean the late Prince Hamlet?"

The King was quite surprised, both by their ignorance and Guildenstern's interruption. "The late means that your former Prince passed away," he said frostily. "He has been in the nether for nearly two weeks now."

Rosencrantz looked sick. "I am sorry milord," he said tremulously, "but this comes as quite a shock. He was our friend also..."

The King nodded kindly. "Understood. I release you for now, but I shall call upon you tomorrow. There is much that intrigues me about your Hamlet."

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern again bowed, then turned and quietly left the throne room.

"Beloved Prince of Denmark, upholder of justice. That's it then. I wonder how it happened."

The two companions stood before the monument to their Prince, shivering in the cold November air. Gently, Rosencrantz reached up and dusted a thin layer of snow off it, trying not to show the single tear running down his cheek.

"He was the only friend we ever had," mused Guildenstern. "No one else would mix with country fools like us. There was just something about him...a kind of otherworldly air...perhaps he was not meant for this life. I wonder how his lover...Ophelia I think, is handling this."

Rosencrantz shook his head sadly. "She died before him they say. not find out why."

Guildenstern looked stunned. "She too? Who else passed away while we were gone?"

"The queen, the king, Polonius the advisor his son Laertes, and Lord Osric. A bloodbath if you ask me."

"Polonius and his son? A whole family wiped out? I can scarcely believe that."

"Tis true."

The two whirled about at the sound of the voice behind them. Standing with his hands in his pockets was Horatio the Scholar, his face drawn and tired. "I am glad to see you are alive," he said politely, "and I understand your confusion. Still, before you shed tears for your Prince, hear his faults. Not only did he slay his own Uncle, but also Laertes and his father Polonius. Also, some say it was his fault that the beautiful Ophelia took her own life. You even, were to be his victims. The letter with instructions from the King, to have you hanged...you remember that?"

"Aye, that made no sense," said Guildenstern. "Why would he say that?"

"He never did. The letter was put there by your beloved Prince, in the place of the one that ordered his death. You see, you were taking him to his death."

For a moment there was silence, broken only by the companions ragged breath as the realization of what Horatio had said hit them.

"You mean," said a breathless Rosencrantz, "he was the one that wrote that letter to have us executed? That our childhood friend was almost our murderer?"

Horatio nodded. "I am afraid that in many ways, our Prince failed. He recklessly spent his last days without a care for others. Our new King is not like that. Our country is now stable, but I fear he may somehow seek revenge for Hamlet. Revenge has done little good so far...I fear another cycle of violence and lawlessness. You must do all you can to disaude him. I have done all I can...but if you reinforce what I say, our cause is won. Will you do this?"

Guildenstern blinked. "I...I don't know what to think anymore...but we will help you. For our...Prince, as flawed as he was."

Horatio smiled. "Many thanks. Now listen close..."

It may have been a trick of the light, but he turned about to listen to the Scholars instructions, Rosencrantz could have sworn he saw Hamlet's statue smile faintly, a blessing from beyond.