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Not surprisingly I suppose, the character of Yorick fascinates me considerably and I always wondered what his history was before he achieved fame in the graveyard scene in the great play. This story is an attempt to give him a little history. This will always be a work in progress and perhaps one day will turn into a play. Many of the characters, if not stolen from Shakespeares great work, are my interpretations of many of the good friends I have met in my time surfing the W3. Their characters are my interpretations of their chosen net names, not surprisingly they're the goodies of the piece. Please read on!

Stories

In the days long passed in the time before Hamlet, who should have been King, was but a thought, there lived a Fair Maiden who didst once take the eye of a Young Prince. Her name Ulrika, she a free spirit who revelled in the snow and ice and water of the Nordic Fjords. On ski and ice skate, on Kayak and Skiff she travelled and frolicked in her domain. It was said that she was an orphan abandoned in the Snow capped forests and by skill, cunning and thirst for life had survived in an inhospitable world.

Her spirit was free until one day in the dead of darkest winter as she basked in the warmth of her fire shared with her Great Wolfhound, there came a scraping at the door. The Hound leapt to it’s feet, hackles raised. Ulrika knew to trust the hound, She quickly pulled on the bearskin coat and snatched up her short sword and staff. Again, the scratching. The dog leapt at the door barking and snarling. Momentarily, she could hear something moving away.
Perhaps the Dog had scared it away, there weren’t many things that were unafraid of the Hound. But she decided it would be wise to check, bears were not unknown at this time and it was better to be safe than sorry.

She gripped the dogs hair at the back of his neck, carefully opened the door and stepped out into the dark.

"Keep a firm grip on the dog, I don’t want have to kill it"

She froze, the voice from the trees!
"I come with no intention of harm, please do not be alarmed, but is a matter of utmost importance that I speak with you."

She hesitated, the wolf hound was silent but straining for release.
"All right show yourself, but I can’t hold him for long, so state your business and then begone"

A shape formed in the darkness at the limit of her torchlight, a chill shudder went down her spine all her nerves were at high alert. The Wild Boar circled into the light warily and stopped.
"One thing that has always amused me about dogs is their sometimes suicidal loyalty. There is somewhere in the bottom of his pea sized brain that knows that if I have to defend myself I can kill him in seconds, but he chooses, or maybe he doesn’t, to ignore that little alarm bell and is quite willing to die on your behalf."

"Do you want to test it, I know he does…….?"

"Oh please, I don’t have time for this. I’m merely saving his life because I need to talk to you. I don’t need the dogs death to get between us."

"I don’t understand"

"Call him off, you don’t need to tie him up. I know he’ll obey you. Then you can at least feel a little safe while we talk"

"All right but you stay right there"

"What! I was hoping at least for some warmth by the fire, perhaps a Zucchini or two. A Guinness, a glass of mead or mulled wine"

"You don’t talk like a pig"

"Then you’ve talked to pigs before"

"Well…. No."

"So you have no facts to base that statement on! End of debate, now can we carry on…..In where it’s warm if possible..!"

"Well ….I……."

"Excellent …. I’ll just sit myself here by the fire! Now about that drink…..! Oh by the by you can call me Braxxas."

Ulrika stopped where she was, her entire being was ringing alarm bells. Nothing was as it should be. She desperately tried to rally her thoughts. He was right of course the Wolfhound would have no chance against a boar of his size, she quickly estimated 150 kgs. Even with a little luck on it’s side the dog it wouldn't last long, whether there would be time enough for her to get to her spear was a moot point and a short sword would be useless, unless she managed to strike a lucky blow. She fell back on instinct, when faced with another predator, freeze! She needed time to think things through. Size up the opponent.

"What is it you want of me"

"Oh it’s not me, what would I need someone like you for? No no! The Oracle has spoken, there will come to Abbasfjord, a Dane in dire need. You will be there to succour him and restore him to health, on this depends the fate of many nations for he has a great future in store for without the child which he will spawn, the world would be denied it’s greatest Play!"

"Play?"

"Sheesh alright awready, don’t ask me t’ explain, it’s art! Wadda I know about art… I’m just a poor simple Hog trying t’ make his way in da woild! Da Oracle says ‘Brax do me a favour’. So, I, like da dumb schmuck I am, says Hokay and here I am in the backwoods o’ nowhere freezin’ my cajones off, fencing semantics wid a broad inna bearskin… gimme a break willya… Look all I know is if ya make whoopee wid dis guy every body gonna be smiling Hokay, pass da mulled wine willya."

"Your voice has changed!"

"Eh? Oh yeah, it’s da Oracle! He’s got dis t’ing that all of us dat woiks fer him gotta speak proper, like gennlmen know what I mean!"

In the days that followed Braxxas and Ulrika enjoyed many Zucchinis and much mulled wine waiting for the day that was sure to come, and to cut a long story short, sure enough there was a storm a ship founded trying to enter Abbasfjord and Ulrika rescued many in her skiff in including The future King of Denmark.

At this point of course it all turns into a great bodice ripper with long passionate bonky bits, long hair and sweaty bodies in low light, shot with fuzzy lens followed by long tearful farewells,

The end result is that the Future King putting duty before love goes off and after a time, marries the woman who will become Queen Gertrude and who will eventually marry his poisoner and brother but not before he spawns ….."Hamlet, prince of Denmark".

Now you’re saying that’s interesting…… but so what? Well those of you of course who watch the afternoon soaps have figured this out already. The bit that even Shakespeare didn’t know. So we shift forward in time for just a few moments.

The sweat beaded on Ulrikas brow as she helped the Wolfhound pull the sled up the hill to the fallen tree, another load would see her out for the winter, and she could feel in her bones it was going to be a long hard one. With three of them it was going to be a little more difficult, tho she had plenty of milk for the child, the permanent wet patches on the front of her tunics and the slick stickiness on her belly resulting from constant leakage attested to that.

She shook her head and thought quietly to herself
"How in Friggs name did I get myself into this?"

She hefted the axe and saw and started into the log for the last time sawing and splitting until the sled was almost full. She wandered over and picked up the last branch, heaving the end up onto the sawhorse. She stopped, a twinge, then another, something was happening. Suddenly she felt like she wanted to go to the toilet. She turned to go, but too late, the flood, the slick gooey mess all down the inside of her legs.

She cursed at herself at not reading the signs earlier. Ah well, a little bit of time left. She quickly hefted the last log onto the sled, deciding it was better to take it to the hut and split it there because it was going to be awkward to get away in the future, especially since first snowfall had been. She quickly threw the lead traces over the wolf hound, took hold of the push bars and took the strain.

"WALEGO! MUSH! WAYON!" The Great Hound launched at the traces, the sled jerked forward and she almost lost her footing, within seconds they were under way. He sled skudded over the thin layer of snow and ice as she fought for control on the down hill run.

"Aargh! By the Cursed Spawn of Loki, WHOA UP!" She found she couldn’t keep her feet, her pelvic and abdominal muscles had suddenly developed a mind of their own that refused to be denied. The child was becoming insistent. She quickly pulled off the bearskin tunic and placed it on the ground behind the sled. Taking the handles of the sled and lowering herself into a squat relieved the pressure, but still the child demanded release.
"No rush my little one, your time is now, all in good time." She relaxed and felt within for the childs rhythm, she felt their rhythms join, momentarily and the childs head appeared as she gently pushed. Letting one hand go from the sled she reached down and gently lowered the slippery wrinkled mass onto the bearskin. Her sigh of release was long and satisfied. A flood of contentment washed over as she sat on the Skin and lifted the baby to her breast, all the while cooing and cleaning.

The child coughed, spitting out remnants of fluids from it’s tiny mouth and gratefully accepted a nipple and with the instincts born of a million years the bond between mother and child was complete.

Her ears pricked and she turned to look over her shoulder almost in expectation. There was no surprise as out of the trees the Great Black Boar shuffled in unhurried contentment across the patchy snow towards Mother and Child.

"Well done Dear Lady, you do your species proud!"

"WELL DONE!!!?….. Dear Lady!!? I suppose this means you’re on a mission from "Da Oracle"? "

"In truth it is so, but my message is brief. It is to do with the child. I am here because it was foretold he would be born today. My task is to deliver a name! He shall be known as "Yorick" It will be his curse to be known only in death, his name mentioned only twice in the Histories but yea, the echo will be vast. For people who know nothing of the rest of that tragic history, will know his name and will speak it in sorrow, and claim knowledge of him. His name will….."

"Here, you said brief!"

"Hey, c’mon I wuz on a roll here!"

"Yorick?"

"Yorick!"

"I like it!"

"We knew dat too, imagine trying ta get a woman ta give her kid a name she did’n like huh? Ayayay! Fathers bin tryin’ to do dat fur a thousand years, an’ dey don’ get a look in. Da Oracle ain’t stoopid."

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