Prince of Denmark(The Untold Legend)

Prince of Denmark(The Untold Legend)

A Story by Shatabdi Mukherjee
"

It is the untold story of legendary prince Hamlet. A dark twist on a classic legend. When the war of humanity brake out the fate of Hamlet meets with a legendary sword of justice.

"

It was a silent morning of Denmark. The city of Kronborg was covered with dull snow. A sharp breeze whispered an elegiac note on the dark streets. All the buildings stood still like a necropolis. The smell of white mist and grey smoke covered the morning air. A dark calmness surrounded the whole country. The monotonous sound of grave digging shivered the wind for a moment. Then it was silent again.

A young mourner was walking through the main street. He wore a sackcloth and had a bouquet in his hand. He stopped walking and looked here and there. Then the mourner took a place at a side of the street. His restless eyes told that he could not sleep for a long. His pale body proved his inner grief could not allow him to rest. A shadow of regret passed from his face. Some people also gathered near him with flowers. The time had frozen for a long period.

After a long time, a diminished light was seen in the fog and some people became visible. A funeral procession was coming. People silently went near the coffin and put the bouquets. But the young man joined the procession. The roads were blocked by snow in the rural area. Two people were clearing the way. The rural people stood on the roads sides. Their dark eyes filled with sympathy and tears. Children were also standing with some wildflowers in their little hands. The cheerfulness of childhood wiped out from their flushed face and eyes. Some of them broke into tears near the coffin.

The gate of the cemetery became visible. They bid farewell the last time with tears.

When the procession reached to the cemetery, sextons lifted the coffin and lowered it near the grave

When the procession reached to the cemetery, sextons lifted the coffin and lowered it near the grave. The mourners sat on the chairs and the funeral service started. Two large candles were fired on the wooden pillars. The mourners went near the casket and bid farewell. A priest went near them and told, "One relative is required to do the funeral service of Lord Hamlet."

All the mourners stood still. A little muttering and worry were seen on them. They were looking at each other. No close relative was present there. All the mourners seemed to gather near one person. The discussion ran for some time. Then the young mourner came out from the crowd. He went near the priest and asked, "Can I do the funeral service of Hamlet?"

The priest asked him, "What is the relation between you?"

The man replied, "I am Horatio, a close friend of Lord Hamlet."

The priest nodded his head, "Do you want to say something in the memory of Lord Hamlet?"

Horatio was standing with bowed head, looking still at his friend. He took a deep painful sigh, "Hamlet was my dearest friend. He was not only a friend, he was an important part of my life. Denmark lost a noble youth. He was our blazing fire, which blew out in an unexpected storm in the kingdom. Hamlet was everything that a kingdom needs as their king. It was a great loss, which can never be fulfilled." Horatio could say no more and his throat filled with tears. He tried to calm down himself. But Horatio burst with grief near the coffin of his dearest friend. Some teardrops fell on his coat and boots, it blurred his vision.

Horatio felt a hand on his shoulder and looked backward. Marcellus was looking towards him. His grey and cold eyes were filled with grief and sympathy. He consoled Horatio, "Horatio, please control yourself. His soul cannot get peace to see you yelling."

Some water drops also fell on the coat and boot of Marcellus

Some water drops also fell on the coat and boot of Marcellus. But they were not tears. They looked upward, and it was raining. Sextons lifted the coffin to put it in a nearby church. The mourners left the cemetery for until the rain stopped.

Horatio and Marcellus entered the main hall of the church. The coffin was kept near the cross of Jesus. The priest suggested performing the funeral in the church. Horatio went near the coffin with a flower bouquet. His head was lowered, tears rolling down from his cheeks. All the colors wiped out from his pale face. There was no corruption on the corpse. It looked a young man was only sleeping and could awake at any moment. Horatio rose his eyes to put the roses.

Marcellus was standing at a distance from Horatio. He was looking at the outside. Nature also seemed to dishearten for his untimely death. He took a deep sigh and looked at Horatio. He was standing near the coffin with the flower bunch. It was strange that he took a long time to put the flowers. But his body started to shake and the flower bunch fell from his trembling hands. He sat down near the coffin.

Marcellus rushed towards Horatio. He asked, "Horatio what happened? Why are your hands trembling? Are you feeling sick?"

Horatio said in a hoarse voice, "He is not dead. He is alive."

Marcellus uttered, "What are you saying, Horatio? How is it possible? Are you sure?" He thought that Horatio hurt very much for the sudden death of his friend. So he saw unnatural things.

"He is breathing. He is still alive," Horatio pointed out at the corpse. Marcellus also laid a hand on the corpse and assured that Horatio was correct.

They could not move for a moment of surprise. Their whole body was shivering with wonder. All the conscious and the unconscious thoughts seemed mixed up together. They drank water from a nearby jar to bring back their mental calmness.

"What shall we do now?" Horatio asked with shaking voice while he tried to take a breath.

"Death pardons the noble youth. If the situation is normal, then it will be a great pleasure for the whole Denmark. He will be our King. We will celebrate today. But Denmark is captured by Norway. We should keep it a secret. It is not safe for you to live here," Marcellus replied.

Horatio asked, "Then where should we go now for shelter?"

Marcellus thought for a moment. Then he said, "You should go to Wittenberg. At least Fortinbras cannot do anything there."

It was a regular day of Wittenberg University

It was a regular day of Wittenberg University. Professor Blackwood, the vice-chancellor of Wittenberg University was working in his officeHe was busy with writing an important letter.

Professor Blackwood distracted by a knocking at the window. He saw a pigeon brought a note for him. Horatio sent him a note to explain the strange incident. Professor Blackwood read the note. But he could not believe the words and read again. After finishing the note he seemed to become very anxious and displeased.

Professor Blackwood lived in Denmark in the early days. He was a renowned physician. But the King of Denmark expelled him from the country for some misunderstanding.Later he went to Wittenberg and became the vice-chancellor of Wittenberg University. He was also a physician and professor of medical science.

 He was also a physician and professor of medical science

Many years ago, Denmark defeated Norway in a bloody war. The King of Norway lost lands and died in the war. Fortinbras, the Prince of Norway wished to attack Denmark to recapture those occupied lands and avenge the honor of his father. He seized the throne of Denmark as no successor was alive. The civilians of Denmark could not protest for lack of courage.

It was a calm day in the forests. The light streaks through the boughs in both brilliant and shadowy beams. In the summertime they were white gold, illuminating the greens into virescent riots; yet the gift of those warm days has passed for the season. On these wintry days, the fogs cast those same beams of light into sepia tones and the woodland becomes the most beautiful of photographs. The leaves and branches covered with icy crystals.  The sweet surrendering scent of the morning dew filled the forest with a scent that did not belong on earth.  

The drone of insects humming started the usual routine of waking dawn. Slowly, the forest came alive with the layers of sounds echoing in the cold morning air. Little frogs croaked under large, broad leaves. The webs were stringed with delicate drops of morning dew, glistening in the first shards of sunlight. While the all the humans were still asleep in Slumberland, the animals in every corner of the earth were waiting for a new dawn. The sweet opera of flowing stream woke up the tribes in the forest.

The tribes of the forest came out from their cottage with axes on their hands. They were walking in a group with the lively song of life. The tribes hacked the trees with their sweat-drenched muscular hands. The wood logs carried by the horse carriage and the bullock carts. The horses were on their normal manner, chewing grass on the forest. But all of a sudden, the horses neighed in terror looking at the North. First, some dust was seen in the air. Then it turned into the loud noise of war drums with neighs of horses, carrying the flag of Norway. The tribes left their belongings and ran off from the place.

The army stopped in the forest. The leading warrior took his helmet and the sweat-drenched face of Fortinbras revealed, "The sun is already set. Set the camp here."

The army cut the trees and cleared a spot. While the army was busy setting tents, Fortinbras moved ahead on the horse back on the way to check if the enemy army hid there or not. It was almost dark in the sunset. The trees were so close to each other they guarded the sunlight. Fortinbras could see nothing. Some wolves were howling nearby. It was not safe to be alone in the forest. So Fortinbras turned his horse back. He heard a voice echoed, "How are you here Prince Fortinbras?"

Fortinbras became very startled to hear a human voice in the middle of the forest. It might be the enemy army in an ambush. But Fortinbras was no coward, "Who are you? Come out and fight with me if you have courage," Fortinbras clutched his sword.

© 2017 Shatabdi Mukherjee


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Added on November 26, 2017
Last Updated on November 26, 2017
Tags: darkfantasy, blackmagic, action, adventure, thriller

Author

Shatabdi Mukherjee
Shatabdi Mukherjee

Kolkata, India



About
I am a passionate writer and want to get published in future. more..