Kris Kringle

The next morning, Kris donned Saint Nicholas’ robe and made his way downstairs to the chapel where the funeral would be held. At the front of the chapel upon the rostrum where the priest would give his Sunday sermons lay King Wenceslas’ casket. It was empty and served as only a symbolic remembrance of the king. Kris was directed by Saint Martin to stand upon the stage near the casket, where all the other prominent participants of the ceremony would stand as well, including Prince Renier and Princess Eva. After most of the residents of Silverbell had packed themselves into the chapel, Saint Martin began the ceremony. Kris looked over at Princess Eva, who sensed his gaze and looked over at him. Though her heart wanted to show more, she gave him only a small smile so as not to draw any of the public’s attention to him or her. Saint Martin and the other speakers of the ceremony spoke highly of the king, praising his devotion to the residents of Silverbell and petitioning God’s blessings to be upon him in his rest. Kris was relieved that his only participation in the ceremony was to stand on the stage and bow his head in prayer over the casket with Saint Martin at the conclusion of the funeral.

When the final prayer over the deceased had been offered, Prince Renier led the procession out of the chapel, first stopping by each of the visitors standing on the rostrum and thanking them for attending the funeral. Renier approached Kris and stuck out his hand to shake. As Kris grabbed it, he noticed that two of Renier’s fingers had been cut off near the top, where his fingernails would have been.

“Thank you again for being here, Saint Nicholas,” Renier said, “Will you be retuning to the South Kingdom today?”

“I will, Your Highness,” Kris replied softly with a bowed head.

“Well, perhaps we will meet again in the future.”

Kris raised his head and looked the prince directly in the eye. “I am certain we will.”

Renier finished his conversation with the remaining guests and then made his way off the rostrum and down the center aisle of the chapel. All the residents of Silverbell inside the chapel stood in quiet respect as Renier exited the church, followed by Monty and several royal guards. The visitors to Silverbell then followed, creating a processional out the door. Kris was about to join the line when he realized that Princess Eva had stayed behind on the rostrum. She was standing over the casket and quietly sobbing. Kris walked back over to her.

“I am sorry for your loss, Your Majesty,” he said very quietly.

Eva softly placed a bouquet of red roses upon the casket and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Father loved roses, said they reminded him of my mother,” she explained with a faint smile. She turned to Kris, whose face was partially covered by his hood. “I myself though have grown very partial to mistletoe.”

A wide smile appeared on Kris’ face, though only Eva could see it as their backs were turned to the congregation.

“Percy’s Parchment works,” Kris stated very softly so that only she could hear. His heart dropped as he remembered the last question he had asked it. “I will meet with the Shepherds tonight to decide what our next step should be.”

“Let me know what I can do,” Eva replied with equally soft volume.

“I will.”

Kris turned and walked down the rostrum, leaving the princess standing at the casket. The congregation would not disperse until she left. Kris made his way down the center aisle, the processional still not having made its way fully outside. Kris raised his head a little higher than he had during the ceremony, for he was scanning the congregation for a familiar face. Toward the back of the chapel, he found the person he had been looking for. Standing near the aisle was Rudy Chesterson, dressed nicer than Kris had ever seen him. The memorial ceremony had put a somber look on his face. Kris continued walking down the aisle but paused when he came next to Rudy. Kris turned his head slightly so that no one would pay notice.

“Peace to you,” he said softly to the rancher.

Rudy looked at the hooded priest in confusion. His eyes became wide as they recognized Kris’ face.

“Goodwill to all,” he said, as a joyful smile crept upon his face.

By nightfall, Kris was already at the Shepherds’ stable, waiting for his brethren to arrive. Rudy was the first to show up, followed shortly by all the others. There was great excitement among the reunited brotherhood, each asking Kris where he had been, how he had escaped the castle, and what his plans were to avoid being discovered. Kris had them all sit down in the traditional circle and related the important details to them.

“I snuck into the castle to speak with Princess Eva,” Kris started, “I nearly died in the process, and I’m sure you all feel it would be well-deserved if I had. I know what I did was foolish and rash, but I felt immediate action needed to be taken. I still do. When I escaped into the woods, you’ll never guess who I found.”

The Shepherds were hanging on Kris’ every word. If it had been a different story at a different time, Kris probably would have milked it and played with his audience. But his story was too important and time was too precious.

“It was King Wenceslas,” Kris continued, “He was badly injured and was in the care of a village of kindly elves who also took me in as one of their own. I stayed in their village until the king died, which occurred only a few days ago. I made my return yesterday, stealing the robes of a priest traveling from another kingdom and taking on his identity to disguise my own.”

Rudy rubbed his chin as he listened carefully to the overwhelming information being so hastily presented. “So Lord Renier does not know who you are?”

Kris shook his head. “No, I have spoken with him face-to-face on two occasions now, and he believes me to be a priest named Saint Nicholas. The princess on the other hand, she and I met last night at the Royal Tomb. She informed me that Renier’s coronation is scheduled for tomorrow.”

There was a collective murmur from the group confirming his statement.

“Will you agree with me now that the time for action is surely upon us?” Kris asked the group urgently.

“What would you have us do?” Mr. Elpert asked his old worker.

Kris removed Percy’s Parchment from his pocket. “Last night, the princess and I found the very item that has been eluding us for so long.”

Rudy stared at the glowing parchment with great interest. “Is that…?”

“Percy’s Parchment,” Kris stated with a wry smile, “We found it hidden in the Royal Tomb. One of the elves I met told me all about it and where to find it. This parchment provides the answer to any question you write upon it.”

Ian shook his head in quiet horror. “No wonder the prince wants it. Imagine if Renier got his hands on that…”

The group sat there quietly, considering the magnitude of the magical item that Kris held.

“You still haven’t answered my question, son,” Mr. Elpert reminded him, “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Nothing,” came the surprising response, “At least not yet. Tomorrow I intend to publicly announce my protest to Lord Renier’s coronation.”

A disappointing groan was shared by several in the group, including Rudy. “Kris, I admire your tenacity, your fearlessness. I really do,” he admitted, “But you have already cheated death once before. To stand up publicly and denounce Renier would be to invite almost immediate death. With your disguise, he does not know who you are, at least for the moment. I would keep it that way for as long as you can!”

“I gotta agree with Rudy on this one,” Ian chimed in, “You know I agree with you that we must do something big and bold if we are going to save Silverbell, but what you are suggesting is too big and too bold. We Shepherds cannot stop Renier by ourselves. We need the support of the people.”

Kris nodded his agreement. “Then that is what you all can do in the meantime,” Kris determined, “Rally the support of the residents of Silverbell. Tell them about the Shepherds, about the great danger that a Renier rule would bring. Tell them everything we know. I sense a terrible war awaits us, and I agree it cannot be won—it cannot even be fought—without the support of our people.”

“And what about you?” Rudy asked seriously, “While we prepare the people for this war you speak of, you will be locked away and executed for treason!”

“I almost certainly will be locked away for what I plan to do tomorrow,” Kris agreed, “But I am still working on a plan to avoid the latter part.” He looked at Rudy with a sincere face. “And I will not be committing treason.”

Rudy chuckled. “That’s not how Lord Renier will see it,” he warned, “In fact, that’s not how anyone will see it! While you and I both know that Renier is unfit for the throne, we cannot argue the fact that according to the law, his coronation is just and proper! Rebel we will if rebel we must, but we cannot hide the fact that he is in fact the one the law has named king.”

Kris said nothing at first, but instead handed Rudy a feather pen and ink along with Percy’s Parchment.

“The law says that the prince shall take the throne upon the death of the king, if the king has not named another to take his place,” Kris explained, “My protest tomorrow cannot be called treason for his coronation which you claim to be right and true is in fact false and unnecessary. King Wenceslas crowned another before his death.

He gestured for Rudy to write. “Ask the Parchment who the king of Silverbell is.”

Rudy furrowed his brow, almost intimidated by the fact that Kris seemed to know a great deal more about the situation at hand than he did. He dipped the pen in the ink and did as directed.

“Who is the king of Silverbell?” he wrote on the paper.

When the answer appeared, Rudy looked up in complete shock at Kris, who was smiling warmly back at him.

“You said earlier that Renier doesn’t know who I really am,” Kris recalled, “He will know tomorrow. All of Silverbell will know tomorrow.”