Kris Kringle

Jack had not anticipated anything other than a routine delivery of ice to the castle. He did think it strange that he had been sought out by the castle staff midday to deliver extra ice, but he thought he would be on and off the castle grounds without much time taken away from the rest of his day’s activities. He was completely caught off-guard then, when a guard approached him at the end of his unloading of ice blocks into the castle cellar to tell him that King Renier wanted to meet with him. He was further confused by the fact that he was not brought to the throne room or even into any part of the castle to speak with the king. Instead, the guard led him to the opposite exterior of the castle near the forest. It was an open area, with several piles of chopped wood lying about. It was only the king and one of the castle servants that stood there to greet him.

“Jack Frost,” King Renier welcomed him kindly, extending his hand for a shake, “I appreciate you bringing an extra delivery of ice today.”

Jack shook the king’s hand but gave him a bewildered look.

“Something tells me you brought me here for more than just ice,” Jack concluded slowly.

Renier sat down on a large piece of lumber and looked up at Jack with a pleading face.

“I need your help, Jack,” Renier said innocently, “Your friend Kris Kringle, as I’m sure you’re aware, is currently under arrest for treason and possibly murder. I sense that Kris doesn’t know the dangerous and almost irreversible situation he has placed himself in. There is certain information I need from him which he has refused to share, but if he did, I might be able to lessen his punishment. I am hoping that you, as his friend, can help him by helping me.”

Jack thought carefully about how he should respond. “What makes you think he’s my friend?”

Renier shook his head with annoyance. “I don’t have time to play that game, Jack,” he replied straightly, “I know Kris visited you in your home the other night, and I know you must have talked about more than just the weather. He truly believes that he is the rightful king of Silverbell and that he has seen and interacted with magical elves. I’m sure he told you all about this the night he came to speak with you.”

Jack looked around as if he hoped an escape route would suddenly present itself. As he did so, his eyes fell upon a set of stocks—a wooden restraining device used to trap prisoners before their execution. Jack’s blood suddenly turned cold.

“The truth is Kris told me very little,” Jack confessed, “He told me he had a great deal to say but no time to say it. He just wanted me to know he was alive.”

“Did he tell you about his plans to disrupt my coronation?”

Jack stood there silently. To tell the truth and further condemn his friend was unthinkable, but to lie to someone like Renier who already sensed him to be lying was as equally unpleasant an option. He was trapped. The lack of response infuriated the king.

“Enough!” Renier cried out, standing up from his resting place, “What did he tell you!”

Jack was scared, but he tried not to show his emotions. “If you would let me speak with Kris, perhaps I could—“

A guard suddenly seized Jack from behind and dragged him to the stocks which he had seen just a moment earlier. His head and hands were entrapped in the holes before he could fully process what was happening.

“Why men like you choose loyalty over life is beyond me,” Renier stated, kneeling down to look at Jack face-to-face.

But Jack was not looking at the king’s face. He was looking at his hat, which had fallen the ground in front of him when his head was forced into the stocks. It now lay next to Renier’s foot, open-faced so that Percy’s Parchment—which had been concealed inside—was now fully visible.

Renier noticed where Jack’s gaze had turned, and he too looked down to see the contents of Jack’s top hat. He reached inside and removed the magical piece of paper.

“Oh my…,” the king whispered aloud in genuine wonder, “What did you bring me, Jack?”

He examined the parchment with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I don’t believe it,” Renier said with a hearty chuckle, “I have been searching for this for so long. I cannot believe it now rests in my hands before me.”

He turned to Jack and smiled. “I’d ask you how you got this, but I guess I don’t need to ask you anything now. I have all the answers I’ll ever need.”

Jack was mortified. Kris had entrusted him with the parchment for the key purpose of keeping it out of the hands of Renier. And now he had unknowingly and unwillingly delivered it right to him.

“Kill him,” Renier ordered the servant standing nearby. The servant was Barney, the same lumberjack who had helped Kris find the bell tower when he had snuck into the castle. Barney stood there nervously. The ax in his hand had always been used to drop trees and chop firewood. He had never killed a man before, and he was not willing to do so now.

Renier’s eyes had been fixed on Percy’s Parchment, but when he realized his order was not being obeyed, he glared at Barney and pointed to Jack. “Kill him,” he repeated sternly.

“Your Majesty, I worry that his offenses do not warrant such a punishment,” Barney stuttered, “And I myself am no executioner.”

“No, you are not an executioner, it is true. Instead, you are the man who allowed Kris Kringle to walk about the castle as a criminal, showing him around as though he were your friend. The princess could have been killed because you allowed that man to roam free!”

Renier snatched the ax from Barney’s hands. “Either you kill him or I do. But I promise you, if he dies at my hands, your head will be the next that falls. Consider this your chance for redemption.”

Barney looked at Jack with an emotional angst he had never known. The idea of killing a man who seemed so innocent was unfathomable, but the fear caused by the immediate threat of his own death overtook his senses. Almost mechanically, Barney took back the ax and approached the bound prisoner.

“Any last words, Frosty,” Renier asked Jack playfully.

Jack continued to look at his hat laying on the ground before him.

“You cannot slay truth and you cannot stop the power of goodness,” Jack warned in a resolute tone, “You have your way now, but your days are numbered and your reign is limited. Soon, the true king will take his rightful place.”

“Do it,” Renier commanded Barney, unaffected by the warning he had been given.

Barney raised the ax slowly, and though Jack could not turn his head enough to see him, he addressed his executioner just the same.

“I know this action will bring you guilt and shame, but know that I do not blame or condemn you,” Jack assured him, “Death is not the end. I’ll be back again….someday.”

The ax was forced downward. Renier walked away with Percy’s Parchment in hand, casually stepping over the top hat and severed head of Jack Frost on the ground.

“How long have you been in here?” Kris asked the prisoner in the adjacent cell. It was the first time either of them had spoken to each other.

“I lost count of the days,” the prisoner admitted. He was a younger man, with short brown hair that was beginning to look matted and dirty. His figure was thin, an effect of the meager meals he had been fed since being imprisoned.

“What was your crime?” Kris asked.

The man shook his head. “With Renier, there does not need to be a crime,” he explained, “I should not be locked away in a prison like this. And while I do not know you, sir, I am confident you are just as innocent. These cells were full when I arrived. Renier has executed most of them now. Seems to be me that if you’re too weak, Renier feels you do not deserve to be a part of his kingdom. But if you demonstrate too much strength, you must likewise be eliminated in the name of protecting his own power.”

The prisoners’ conversation was cut short when a most unexpected but welcome guest suddenly descended the stairs into the dungeon. It was Princess Eva, her appearance feeling like a ray of sunlight in the cold darkness of the underground prison.

“Eva!” Kris greeted her excitedly, standing up from within his cell.

The princess, however, did not share Kris’ excitement. Her face was somber, and she could not even bring herself to look Kris in the eye.

“I am told that you were good friends with a man named Jack Frost,” she stated.

Her use of the word “were” seemed to take the breath out of Kris’ lungs. She presented Jack’s top hat through the opening of the cell’s bars. Kris gently accepted it, his breathing become more labored as the harsh reality began to hit him.

Eva started to cry. “I am so sorry, Kris. I had no idea this was going on. Renier is a madman and will stop at nothing to get what he wants. I must find a way to get you out.”

Kris backed away slowly, saying nothing. In truth, he had not even heard the words she was speaking. The death of his best friend now consumed his every thought and emotion.

Not wanting to leave Kris in his greatest hour of need, but also needing to prevent any suspicion by Renier that she was sympathizing or colluding with a criminal, Eva hesitantly made her way back up the stairs, after again assuring the silent Kris that she would find a way to ensure his freedom.

Kris examined his friend’s hat and before long, his body began to shake with heavy sobs. The man in the accompanying cell had quietly watched the whole scene unfold. He did not know Kris or his story, but he was impressed by the fact that the princess herself had come to visit him and promised an impossible rescue. When Kris regained his emotions, his prison mate offered his condolences.

“Peace to you,” he said to Kris, acting on the assumption that there was more they shared in common than just their prisoner status.

With dried tears on his rosy cheeks, Kris looked up at the man. There was only one member of the Shepherds he had not met—the one who was supposed to meet Princess Eva in the marketplace that fateful afternoon. He had gone missing, and the Shepherds had said they had no idea where he was. But now Kris knew. He was sitting right beside him.

“Goodwill to all, Calvin.”