Free Immortal by Glenn Beck Page A

eager to follow it.”
    â€œAnd afraid,” Melchior said.
    â€œWhat? What is there to fear?”
    â€œA great change is coming, Agios. In change there is always fear.”
    Always afterward, Agios remembered that leg of their journey, taken at night across a desert visible in the light of the moon and of the star. It seemed like a dream, even while he lived it. It was as though every man and woman and child, every animal but the ones they rode, had died and emptied the earth of life.
    Balthasar knew ways that none of the others did. He led them into a ravine. At the bottom a shallow stream ran, nowhere more than ankle-deep, but it flowed northwest. Now they traveled by daylight, for the narrow gorge shielded them from the sun except for a few hours on either side of noon.
    The water was bitter and faintly salty, but it could be drunk, and they followed the stream until it emptied into a larger river. They began to run into tiny villages, mere temporary gatherings of herdsmen and hunters. The people stared at the strangers—and gasped at the sight of Krampus, whose smile always looked more like a threatening scowl. Finally the travelers came to a land more forgiving—still an arid country, but one where enough water fell from the sky or flowed through the streams to support farms and small towns.
    Passing through ranges of low, dust-colored hills, they journeyed through a countryside where palm trees grew, where dates and other fruits would be abundant in season. They did not linger, but hurried on their way.
    One morning an expanse of gleaming water appeared ahead, not a river but a great lake or sea. “It is salty,” Balthasar told them. “Deadly to drink, saltier than the great Mediterranean. They call it the Dead Sea. We will skirt the northern edge, and we will be in Judea. Jerusalem should be only a few days’ travel now. Herod is king there, the second Herod, son of the man who died some years ago. He rules the land of Judea.”
    â€œUnder the Romans,” Melchior said.
    â€œYes, the Romans are his masters,” Balthasar agreed. “However, I have heard he is a proud man, so we will not mention that to him. In his court we may find wise men who can counsel us. After all, we don’t yet know just where we will find the new king.”
    Roman soldiers stopped them often, always making Krampus restless and anxious. Melchior had letters of passage, and after some delay, an occasional bribe, and some bureaucratic grumbling, the soldiers always allowed the party to go on. They headed across salt pans and waste places, now and then coming to settlements or seeing shepherds tending their flocks.
    Finally they arrived in the city, not the largest Agios had ever seen, but one teeming with life. That afternoon they found a place to stay at an inn with spacious stables for the animals. The precious gifts they stored in one room, and Krampus settled by the one door leading into it. On a wax tablet Melchior wrote an appeal for an audience with Herod, and Agios found a Roman soldier, a centurion, who for a small silver piece was willing to take the letter to the palace. “Don’t expect a quick answer, though,” the man warned Agios. “The king has a thousand things on his mind.”
    And so they waited for three days before a summons came: Herod would see Melchior, Caspar, and Balthasar, but they must come alone and unarmed.
    Melchior asked if they might bring their translator. Agios glanced quickly at Melchior. Is that what the scholars were calling him now? Their translator? Agios was no such thing, even though he had gained a passable command of a handful of languages. The soldier didn’t know if Agios would be allowed to enter, but told him to come along. If the king refused, he would have to wait at the palace gate, that was all.
    Agios had spent most of his time sitting next to Krampus and idly carving. He told Krampus to stay on guard, promising to