Shaken & Speared

Two intrepid secret agents are hot on the trail of a mysterious Machiavellian villain called the bard, and they land up on the ship transporting the prince of Denmark...

Shaken and Speared

1

The story that follows is one of the best kept secrets in the history, an account classified above top secret. It is a tale of the last assignment undertaken by the two best agents of a shadowy organisation who were on trail of an even more shadowy organisation operating behind the scenes and orchestrating various coups and political turmoil in Europe. Instead of boring audience with the languorous language that official reports are usually delivered in, the account is reproduced verbatim as written by one artistically inclined office staffer of the said organisation, upon whose able shoulders was rested the official duty of recording and filing this extraordinary tale.

Before proceeding further, few clarifications are due. How the information regarding this event reached the organisation is unknown. They refuse to reveal their sources, whether from this world or some spirit world. Secondly, the shadowy organisation they hunt is extremely powerful and all pervasive, it has many agents out there who have twisted the tales told in this report and the reader might be led to raise questions on the way events are depicted here.  Healthy skepticism is always welcome and the readers are requested to form their own unbiased opinions after reading and researching both sides of the story.    

Here starts the final chapter in the glorious careers of agents Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

2

It was a stormy night. Rain poured from the skies. The ship was being tossed around by the raging water. It was a thirty feet long ship with white double mast bearing the flag of Denmark. Most of the ship’s crew lay on the deck. They did not seem to be bothered by the torrential rain and the many waves that rose higher than the ship and splashed on to the deck. They did not even stir. They were experienced sailors who had spent most of their lives on sea and were unperturbed by such conditions. That was not the reason why they were laying on the deck with their face down. The reason for that particular posture adopted by these sailors was that they were dead. They had assumed this position because they were dead and therefore, were unable to change their posture, however uncomfortable it may have been.

Their slaughterers were now roaming around on the ship, systematically searching for survivors. They were your usual assorted pirates, or so it seemed. It apparently was not so, because that was exactly the sentiment two of the three passengers that had escaped the massacre and were now hiding in one of the storage rooms were trying to convey to the third rather skeptical passenger.

His name was Hamlet and he was the prince of Denmark. At the moment, he was in an undignified state, not befitting his title, but he was shaking his head in a princely sort of way. His whole body was shaking, but his head was shaking more vigorously than the rest of his body. The difference was understandable and was a direct result of the emotions that shook the body-parts in question. His body was shaking because of fear, which having reached its peak a while back, was now operating at a much lower level; while his head was shaking due to skepticism and mounting anger.

The anger was directed at the world, the gods, the sea, the ship, the ship’s chef (who was dead, bless his soul), the food prepared by him, unhygienic toilets on ship, Ophelia - the stupid but sexy chick who he had recently broken up with, and last but not the least, the two gentlemen who were sharing the storage room with him at the moment. The scepticism was directed entirely at the two gentlemen in question and the information they were imparting.

Out of these two gentlemen, the tall guy with scrawny face and long blonde hair was Guildenstern. He was talking rapidly with Hamlet. It was his usual style of talking. The short, stubby guy with brown hair, crouching silently in a corner, spoke very few words here and there and seemed to be a man of action, a feeling confirmed by his next move. He deposited an almighty slap upon the royal visage of Hamlet, crown prince of Denmark, the crown part of the title currently in dispute due to questions regarding his mental sanity.          

 The slap brought Hamlet’s attention back to earth. His attention tended to wander towards many random matters during past few days. Right now, for instance, he had been thinking about blue elephants for no reason, not taking in a word from the ramblings of Guildenstern, a fact quickly noticed by Rosencrantz. He immediately took corrective measures, because it was imperative to make Hamlet listen to sense.

The sound of the slap resounded in the sudden silence that reigned after the slap and did its best to fill the awkward pause in talks, but found out it was not up to the task. The silence had occurred because Rosencrantz’s sudden action had broken Guildenstern’s rhythm and thrown him off his game, thus producing a break in his speech.

For a moment he considered his next move. Then it hit him that if he did not start talking quickly Hamlet’s attention would waver again, which would make Rosencrantz liable to use more violence to mend the situation. He decided to quickly come to the point.

‘As explained by me a few moments ago, it is imperative that you drop your plan to assassinate the reigning monarch of Denmark, King Claudius, your uncle.’

Some would debate whether this can be called coming to the point quickly, if the person trying to come to the point does so in such language as used by Guildenstern, especially when he could have simply said ‘Do not kill your uncle’. But Guildenstern was a meticulous man who did everything meticulously.

‘Right!’ That was the only reply Hamlet offered.

 Guildenstern and Rosencrantz sensed that their advice had not gone down well with their quarry. Both men’s solutions for dealing with the problem were categorically different. Rosencrantz decided he had had enough of this bull headed pig faced clown prince and his nonsense. He wanted to slap the violent urge of murder out of Hamlet. Guildenstern could see him arriving at this solution in his head. They had been working together for numerous years and thoroughly understood each other. Guildenstern felt violence was not the answer to this problem. At least, not yet. He pulled out an ace, or a setup to play the ace that would gain the trust of Hamlet.

‘Let’s talk about the murder of Polonius.’   

‘Who?’

Hamlet was staring at his face blankly. Then he looked about. ‘Is this your house? It is quite peculiar. Smallish.’ Rosencrantz shushed him and told him to lower his voice.

‘Why are we whispering?’ Hamlet asked in a whisper.

‘Because we are hiding from murderous pirates in a boat heading towards England, you are Hamlet, prince of Denmark -‘Guildenstern would have explained further, but he was rudely interrupted by Rosencrantz, who slapped Hamlet again, who in turn, blinked.

‘Thank you sir, I sometimes relapse into these blank spots, as I like to call them, whence I am not myself.’

‘Cut the crap.’ Rosencrantz looked like he meant to slap Hamlet again, but Guildenstern stopped him with a motion of his hand.

‘I don’t think he is acting. He has exhibited symptoms of mental imbalance for past few days.’

The duo had been spying on hamlet for almost a month and had their differences as to whether he was actually mentally ill or just feigning mental illness.

Memory had returned to Hamlet. ‘I did not kill Polonius.’

‘We know that.’

This response reeled Hamlet. While no one had accused him of murdering Polonius, who was not officially considered dead as his body was missing; the palace circuit had been abuzz with the rumour of the murder. It was generally agreed that prince Hamlet was the chief suspect for his murder. Everyone in the palace knew something was amiss. There were bets taken on who will be next to go; who amongst King Claudius, Queen Gertrude or other courtiers was next in Hamlet’s book.

There were wild theories flying around, being discussed in hushed conversations in dark corners of the royal palace, behind the rose bushes and under the canopy of begonias in the royal gardens and the mood within the palace was dark and fearful. Never did a day pass when People did not throw conspiratorial glances when Hamlet passed them in the corridors or conversations ceased as he drew near. For him to hear that two men, who had been living in the palace for past two months and whom he considered spies of king Claudius, did not consider him a murderer was an immense shock. The shock subsided quickly to be replaced by suspicion and then anger.

‘If you think you can deceive me by uttering falsehoods to gain my trust, you are gravely mistaken.’ Suddenly Hamlet’s tone changed to conspiratorial ‘did you see that three footed horse that just went by?’

‘Should I slap him again?’

‘ No! Wait. Prince Hamlet, I need you to concentrate and listen to what I have to say. This is not about me or you or your uncle Claudius or your mother. It is much bigger than us. You are merely a pawn in a grand scheme designed by a Machiavellian figure who is trying to rewrite the political situation in Europe as per his will.’

‘And to think that I considered myself barking mad. You, sir are a jewel among us unfortunate souls who are slightly touched in the head.’

‘I am not mad. I am just enlightened.’ Guildenstern paused for a second. ‘And I know everyone who is accused of being mad says that. That does not prove honesty or dishonesty of a statement. Every criminal who says he is innocent is not lying.’

‘But if he is a criminal who says he is innocent, he is indeed lying.’

 ‘My framing of the sentence was wrong, prince Hamlet. What I meant to say was this �" every man who says he is not guilty, is not guilty.’

‘So by extension, every man who says he is not mad, is not mad? Every man who says he is king, is king, every man who says he is god, is god. That’s good.’

‘Sorry. What I really meant was �" Just because a man says he is not guilty, that should not be taken as an admission of guilt, or an indication of his guilt. Denial should not tantamount to confirmation of the thing he is trying to deny. That is all.’

Hamlet considered this for a moment.              

Rosencrantz was bored. He usually got bored when clever people veered off the point and played those clever games of one-upmanship which he hated.

‘You know, violence works better in some situation.’

‘Just a moment, Crantzy, It won’t take any longer. I think he has got it.’

‘That is not the point. Will you bring him to point or should I?’

Hamlet nodded his head.

‘You are right. It is a fair point you have got. Or at least three quarters of a point. Just add a pinch of salt and some tables. Then the chicken is ready for serving in wine glasses ... sorry, what was I saying?’

Rosencrantz made a move reaching for Hamlet and Guildenstern shielded Hamlet from him, as much as the cramped storage room they were hiding in could permit, which was not a lot. They hardly moved at all. Just at that moment two or three pirates passed by outside the room, the noise of their heavy steps trailed after them, injecting some seriousness into the proceedings.

‘What if we tell you that the crime you want to punish your uncle for was not committed by him, but someone else, and Polonius was murdered because he knew something about it, thereby making it imperative to silence him?’

‘I would say that a room should be reserved for you indefinitely in the royal asylum of Denmark, just besides the room reserved for me. Then you should not be allowed to occupy the room, instead you should be put to death for unashamedly lying through your teeth to Hamlet, crown prince of Denmark.’

‘Then what happens to the room?’

‘What room?’

‘The one which is reserved for me.’

‘Why do you care? You are dead. It is of no further use or concern to you.’

‘But I am not dead, so I care what happens to a room reserved for me.’

‘This is a hypothetical situation. No such room has been reserved for you.’

‘Indeed. But I said, what would you do, if I told you X. You said Y. As I have told you X, you are bound to do Y, unless you are a liar.’

‘No. You said what if I told you X. You never said what you would do if I told you X. On the other hand I said that upon you saying X I would say Y. I never said I would do Y. Therefore I have fulfilled my end of the contract.’

Rosencrantz started to slowly make his way towards the door. His passage was complicated by the assorted barrels and other stuff that the storage room was packed with. The two intellectuals were busy debating with each other, transported to a blissful heaven of theoretical rhetoric. Then Guildenstern noticed Rosencrantz.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I am going to surrender to the pirates.’

‘Why?’

‘I prefer death than listening to your pointless arguments.’

Guildenstern was about to reply when suddenly Hamlet butted in. ‘you cannot surrender to any pirates.’

‘Why?’

‘As per your own admission there are no pirates on this ship. Ergo you cannot surrender to pirates unless you have lied to me.’

‘F**k you.’ Rosencrantz put his hand on the doorknob.

‘Crantzy, wait. I have a solution which I will put forward shortly.’

‘This man does not play by the rules of the game, does he?’ Hamlet asked Guildenstern.

‘He is not a big fan of this particular game.’ Guildenstern glanced at Rosencrantz; whose hand was inching towards to doorknob again. He changed tack. ’However, looking at our present predicament, we have to forgo the pleasure we derive from the game and speedily move our attention to the main topic of discussion.’

‘Which is?’

‘The fact that the crime you want to punish your uncle for was not committed by him, but someone else, and Polonius was murdered because he knew something about it.’ Guildenstern knew a question was forming in Hamlet’s head, so he added ‘I know you dispute the claim, but for arguments sake, assume we are telling the truth. In any case, you have to survive and go back to Denmark to kill your uncle. Another important point which you have completely overlooked �" if we were lying, were employed by your uncle and wanted to stop you killing him, we would have gladly handed you over to the pirates. We have not done so.’

‘You do have a valid point. Proceed with your tale. If my uncle is not the man responsible for the murder of my father, who is? Who are you and who do you work for?’ Hamlet paused for a moment and just as Rosencrantz turned away from the door and walked towards him, said ‘If you gentlemen do not want to buy the camels, I have other suitors. It is thirty turtles for a camel, no more, no less.’

Rosencrantz slapped Hamlet. Hamlet came back to his senses. ‘Where were we? Let me see. Oh yes ... something about assuming you are the man responsible for my uncle’s murder? My uncle is not dead yet. I intend to put that right.’

Rosencrantz slapped Hamlet again.  After another pause Hamlet spoke again ‘ I remember everything. This is going to be a problem. This madness of mine. How will I remember and make sense of anything you told me?’

‘That is why we are coming back with you.’

Guildenstern, meanwhile, was lost in thoughts of his own. They asked him what he was thinking about.

‘Why would a camel seller demand to be paid in turtles for his camels? I mean, camels are found in desert, turtles in water. None can survive in other’s habitat. What could he possibly do with the turtles? And what does the customer who has turtles wants to do with camels? ’

‘He could sell them as curios.’ Answered Hamlet.‘ Maybe he deals in exotic animals.’

‘Something does not add up. Is the payment to be made in live turtles or dead? Are the turtles of the same species or an assortment of turtles of different species? Can the payment be made in any other currency than turtles?’

‘None of this makes slightest bit of sense.’

‘That is why it is called madness. If it made sense, it would not be madness.’

‘It is often said there is a sense in madness, a sort of method. A madman’s nonsense makes sense to himself. You are a madman, this is your nonsense and this makes no sense to you. Ergo, this is not madness.’

‘It makes no sense from a non-mad point of view as well. It makes no sense to any person, living or dead, sane or insane. So what do we classify these ramblings as?’

Rosencrantz slapped both Hamlet and Guildenstern.

‘Thank you, I needed that. Getting back to the point, Prince Hamlet, pay close attention to what we are about to say, as we may not meet again to discuss this any further. Your father’s assassination was the first step towards a plan to overthrow the monarchy of Denmark, make the country weak and ripe for a hostile takeover.’

‘Who is behind this?’

‘There are two parties to the transaction. One of the parties is an assorted mixture of the usual enemies of Denmark. There are always those who want power. What they need is a passage to the top. The second party to the transaction is an organisation who provides that passage.’

‘In other words, they orchestrate the coups.’ Rosencrantz always believed that one should convey maximum information in minimum words.

‘We work for an organisation whose name we cannot reveal. Our work is to stop other organisations whose names we cannot reveal from successfully concluding their nefarious schemes which are beyond your understanding.’

‘In short, you can tell me nothing.’

‘We cannot tell you nothing. Even if we tell you nothing, we have told you something.’

‘Which is nothing!’

Rosencrantz felt he should interject before the two idiots were lost in wordplay, which seemed to be their favourite pastime. ‘Have you heard about the recent coup in Rome?’

‘The one where Brutus killed Ceaser, Antony fought with Ceaser Octavius and lot of people died?’

‘Yes, the one which put paid to the fledgling Roman republic and led to creation of the Holy Roman Empire. Handiwork of the Bard.’

‘Who is the Bard?’

‘The Bard is the mysterious man who heads this diabolical organisation. We do not know who he is and we do not know much about him, but what we know is enough to make one shudder. His specialty is constructing complex narratives which bring down entire empires. His specialty is wholesale deaths of the people who play important parts in his schemes. His reading of the human behavior and motivation is extraordinary. As a matter of fact, he is a genius who knows exactly what makes a person tick or dance to his tunes.’

‘Consider for example, what he did in Scotland.’

‘Macbeth? That was him?’

‘Of course. He had the old king murdered inside Lord Macbeth’s castle. He had planted a few teams of three witches in various parts of kingdom beforehand, which spread rumors about a prophecy, rumors heard by enough gullible fools. So naturally, when the king was murdered, the suspicion fell on Macbeth. The rest, as they say, is history. The result �" almost half the good warriors and nobles of Scotland are dead, leaving them weak and vulnerable for hostile takeover form adjoining countries.’

Hamlet was shaking his head. ‘This all seems to perfect to be true. What about my father’s ghost?’

Guildenstern laughed. ‘Simply a mirror effect. Magic 101. As for your mother marrying your uncle, it was a rather unfortunate timing, but nothing particularly malicious, if you think it through. She has as much right to marry anyone she loves. Maybe she should have waited longer �"‘

‘-If he is not guilty, why did my uncle leave the play midway?’

‘He left because the play was unbearably bad. Do people of Denmark not leave a theater in midst of a bad play, instead of enduring the assault on their senses and sensibility?’

‘That is a fair point.’

 ‘You should thank the Bard for one thing. Amidst all this confusion and chaos, you have used this as an excuse to breakup with that clingy girlfriend of yours, what her name, something awful �"‘

‘Ophelia. Yes, I cannot say I am not glad that happened. What do we do now?’

‘Firstly we get you out of here safely.’ Rosencrantz had the to-do list prepared in his head. ‘Then we return to Denmark and you drop your scheme to avenge your father’s murderers.’

‘Leave it to the professionals. We will take care of it. We will hunt this man, this Bard down.’

‘And check into an asylum, go see a counselor. Deal with your father issues. Do not forget what we have just told you.’

3

Two figures sat in a small dark room with green walls. A messenger entered.

‘Guildenstern and Rosencrantz are dead. So is everybody else. The coup has been successfully completed.’

The hooded man listened to this news without any reaction. He mulled things over in his head and finally spoke

‘Excellent. You may leave.’  He turned to the other man and asked him ‘What report from Venice?’

‘We have received the initial report. The Moor is good man, a man of strong principles. He has a few associates. The notable amongst them are called Iago and Cassius, his trusted lieutenants. We are gathering more information.’

‘Hmm ...’ The hooded man interrupted him. ‘Any angle we could use?’

‘He seems to be in love with the daughter of a prominent senator of Venice. She is about to be married.’

‘Not to him, I presume.’

He got the response he had predicted.

‘I could play with that.’

‘One more thing, my lord. The clients want to know to what name the payment needs to be made. What shall I tell them?’

‘What’s in the name?’ The hooded man smiled a wicked smile. ‘Tell them. The name is Shakespeare ... William Shakespeare.’

Written by - Yashodhan Kelkar