The Immortal Nicholas by Glenn Beck

Author:Glenn Beck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Threshold Editions

So Agios and Krampus lived day to day, month to month, year to year, almost like a man and his over-large, ungainly son. From then on, though, when Agios made his trips into Memphis he cautioned Krampus to remain alone and quiet in the cave—and he made sure that the water urns were filled before he left.

On rare occasions, no more than once a year if that, messengers came and found Agios, bringing letters from Caspar or from Melchior, inscribed on tablets of wax in the Roman way. They wrote simply, for though Caspar had taught Agios the art of reading and writing, his grasp of educated language was weak. Melchior told him of how Balthasar fared. All three men held within them an eagerness to share word of the holy child born to become the King of Kings—but all agreed to hold back from telling the world of their secret, because, as Melchior wrote, “His time has not yet come, but I pray that I live to see it.”

Then one day, a message arrived that turned their simple world upside down.

Herod is dead, Melchior had written. I am sending word to Joseph that it is safe for him, Mary, and Jesus to return to their homeland now. My friend, will you accompany them home?

It didn’t even cross Agios’s mind to say no.

They had little to pack. Agios had carved dozens of tiny figures over the years. They all fit in one large goatskin sack. When they went into the town to sell their herd, Agios carried the sack slung over his shoulder, and as they traveled, every time they saw a child, he left one of the little carvings for him or her to find. Krampus once tried to retrieve one of the carvings from a jeering ten-year-old, pointing and saying, “Bad boy!”

His voice scared the boy, who ran away. “What did he do?” Agios asked.

“Laugh at me,” growled Krampus. For all his size and fierce appearance, he really was like a child, with feelings that could easily be hurt.

With a sudden inspiration, Agios handed Krampus the little baby he had sculpted. “Here,” he said. “This one is yours. You keep it forever.”

Krampus stooped over and cradled the tiny figurine in his huge palm. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.” He looked up. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Agios said gently.

“Him,” Krampus said. “It is him. I see.” He raised his cupped palm and held the little carving close to his heart. “He take Krampus home.”

Agios shook his head. Krampus had ways of thinking that—well, that no one could really follow. At least, he couldn’t.

They finished their business, Agios gave away all of his little toys, and they bought a camel. Instead of taking passage by boat—Agios worried about what Krampus would do if people made fun of him when they couldn’t get away—they took the road that led north near the banks of the river.

In the marketplaces of Memphis Agios asked about news from Judea.

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