The three dice, thrown in unison with an elegant movement, were channelled into the ebony structure by going through the three inclined planes and then they appeared on the doorway, slowly showing each one the face chosen by destiny.

"The stroke of Venus: six, six, six! Take this and take it home, a pile of sawdust gone bad!"

Nicholas himself was incredulous about the result.

"Yes! I knew that Mother would not abandon me!"

The Krampus staged a ridiculous ballet in honour of the result and in contempt of the being who contemplated the point silently, without betraying any emotion.

"I admit the defeat. I will ferry you without compensation, get on."

The Bishop was constrained to take by force the goblin who did not stop dancing.

The river, as big as it was, looked almost like a sea and the boatman skilfully moved the boat avoiding dangerous eddies. From time to time large dark silhouettes jumped out of the water and then plunged back into the abyss with powerful thunders. When the shore was seen in the distance, the boat stopped, leaving the two perplexed. The explanation came with the emergence of some clawed hands that, anchoring themselves to the raft, tried to surrender, while the boatman, stretching his wooden tentacles, had immobilized Nicholas and tried to take away his crosier. From the water, in addition to the webbed hands, also the scaly busts of the beings who were trying to get on board emerged. The heads were those of green fish with large mouths equipped with long and ravenous teeth. A dark slime covered with light-coloured sticky slime dripped from the snout.

Pétros kicked the creatures' snouts, preventing them from getting on board.

"This could also be a fun game, the difficult thing is to find lots of ugly heads ready to be broken!"

"Do something! This vile creature is trying to steal my crosier!" rebuked the Bishop.

"If you haven't noticed, I am doing something too! A little patience and I'm coming..."

The boat, tugged by aquatic beings, waved dangerously.

"The Pastoral is the only chance we have left before those things chew us up!" emphasized the Bishop.

Grasping the concept, screaming, the pixie jumped directly onto the root wrapped around the stick.

"You wretched, scrappy player, let go of the bone!"

With his teeth he began to gnaw the wood until, with a firm tug, he was able to tear it permanently. In doing so he lost his balance and found himself tumbling towards the edge of the boat, risking falling into the waves. Luckily, or skill, he managed to grab the bishop's leg just in time, remaining hovering with his legs immersed that debated furiously in terror of being devoured by the abyssal monsters.

"Ah! Hurry up! I don't want to become a stump!"

"Hold on tight without fidgeting, I'll take care of it now!"

Grabbing the stick with both hands, I will strike a single precise blow to the head of the boatman, detaching it cleanly and sending it far away in the waves.

"I'm sorry, but you asked for it."

The roots that imprisoned his ankles suddenly unwound, giving him freedom of movement.

Nicholas grabbed the panting pixie and returned him unharmed to the centre of the raft, while repeatedly thanking him. Then he noticed five threatening fish heads resurface.

"Get down as low as you can, I'll teach you a good shot for your new game!"

With a single blow, rotating the stick 180 degrees, he hit all the facing beings in the face, pushing them back.

"Damn, in my game you would have surely won! Now do you have any idea how to get to the other side?"

"To tell the truth, yes... ready for the grand finale?" Nicholas winked at him.

As he lifted up the wingman, he dropped him deadly on the surface of the water. At first contact there was a glow, followed by an explosion that generated a tidal wave.

"Hold on tight!" he shouted.

The powerful thrust pushed them on the waves with the speed of an arrow.

The air blew impetuously on their faces, distorting them funny, pulling hair and cheeks backwards and channelling itself between their teeth to freeze them. At the same time, sneaking into their half-closed eyes and clothes, it generated adrenaline shivers throughout their bodies, thrilling them like never before, until they arrived on the opposite shore.

The raft finished its run on the ground, sticking into the ground and shattering into a myriad of pieces.

The two were thrown out with violence, but fortunately they ended up on a soft sandy beach.

Intact, they brushed by the sand that had slipped in a little bit everywhere and they recovered from their sense of bewilderment.

Pétros was the one most enthusiastic about the incredible crossing.

"Wow! That stick will never cease to amaze me!" he commented, staggering again.

Chapter 4

Nicholas and Pétros, moving away from the beach, found themselves in a completely changed environment, shrouded in a bitter cold in the middle of an unexpected snowstorm.

"Now there is also the snow on the beach, you can't see a damn thing! Master, I don't know how much longer I will last in this cold! But how long until the goal is reached? I don't even understand if we're going around in circles".

"Get it over with this master, or I swear to you that I'm leaving you here! We cannot stop: we would freeze in an moment! But you're right, we must be careful not to lose our way and to understand if we're going in the right direction".

By sticking the crosier in the snow, Nicholas carved a furrow that was not covered by the new snow and remained clearly visible even from a distance.

"And you are only doing this now?" complained Pétros.

"Next time, instead of rambling on about it, you come up with an idea!" the Bishop replied, disappointed.

"Have you given him a name? All famous swords have a name," asked Pétros, pointing to the winner.

"Ah, yes? In what book did you read it precisely? If you know how to read."

"I know how to read my name, and I know how to do a lot of things that would amaze you..." Pétros pointed out in a raucous manner.

"And in any case it is not a sword, but a sacred stick, and the wood with which it is made...it is even more so than you can imagine!

"But you wield it like a weapon."

"Only in necessity. If you want a name we could call him: the exterminator of chatty goblins and cheaters."

"Hey, you offend me! I may be chatty, but I'm not a cheat!"

"Really? And the dice game?"

"Skill! With turricula it's almost impossible to cheat!"

"Exactly, almost..." emphasized the Bishop.

"Apart from the fact that I immediately realized that that creature was infamous and treacherous, we didn't have much choice..."

The Bishop put his hand on his mouth to shut him up, carried him to the shelter behind a rock and whispered.

"This is it... look down there at the bottom."

In the distance, above a promontory, you could see a cart pulled by animals carrying a large metal cage. Inside, one could make out the three children crouching and cold, while outside, standing guard, were two giants who looked like ice. The caravan was mysteriously standing still waiting.

"Here are the children! We have finally caught up with them!" rejoiced Nicholas quietly, so as not to be heard.

"It's about time...obviously now you have a plan to bring those two enormous things down, don't you?"

"Are you referring to the Golems? Nothing that a few well-aimed shots of my pastoral hasn't already destroyed".

"You mean you've faced similar monsters before and come out in one piece?"

"Actually the Golems I shot down were made of clay, while those look like ice, but I don't think there is much difference. What worries me is the hooded coachman. From here I don't understand how dangerous he is."

He squinted his eyes to better focus the image.

"So?" Pétros interrupted him.

"So we're going to make the most of the surprise factor. The Lord will guide our actions!"

In defiance of danger, the Bishop sneaked up on one of the Golems from behind and beat him with fast but strong clubs on his legs until he fell to the ground. The second Golem, as soon as he noticed him, went towards him and tried clumsily, but at the same time dangerously, to hit the man who managed to dodge the slow assaults. With the first of the giants out of combat and the other one who could not dodge the hammering,

Nicholas felt the victory in his hands. Pétros himself had become swaggering and sadistic by kicking the one on the ground.

"Take this! And this one! Come on, at the end of the day maybe I'll use your ears to refresh my wine!"

"Don't waste any useless time and go and free the boys!"

"The children! Sure, I'm going now!"

As he was about to make his way to the wagon, he felt a frozen grip grasping his ankles and making him trip.

"But what on earth..."

Pétros noticed that the fragments of the broken legs had gathered to form small Golems that were poaching him, while in the original one the limbs were growing back with an alarming hurry.

"Ouch, ouch! This is not good...absolutely not..." he stirred while Nicholas, intent as he was in the struggle, was unaware of the evolution of the situation.

"Will you stop babbling and go to the cage?" he took it up again.

"I would gladly do it if these stupid popsicles would let me go, and if...watch your back!" he shouted.

The downed Golem had completely recovered and was heading threateningly towards the Bishop who found himself surrounded.

"All right, I admit that the ice ones are much worse than the clay ones, but that doesn't make them indestructible!

The more the Bishop inflicted damage with fury, the more quickly the creatures regenerated, bringing discomfort to man. Even the little leprechaun found himself facing more and more mini golems that prevented him from approaching the children.

"At this rate they will overwhelm us! We must find a way to destroy them for good!"

A quick reconnaissance of the surrounding area, made an idea flash in Nicholas's mind.

"The coachman! During the battle he never moved, perhaps he is the summoner, we must eliminate him as soon as possible!"

With a desperate gesture Nicholas rushed close to his companion and freed him with a single blow of the annoying beings that were threatening him.

"Go, you are free!"

He found out too much about the move: so much so that he received a frostbite from the colossus on his back that he threw him far away. His strong constitution allowed him, even if with fatigue and wobbling, to get up and fight again. Surely with his determination he would have resisted long before collapsing, or at least he would have done everything to give the goblin time to stop the Summoner.

When the Krampus finally reached the chariot on the promontory, a deafening noise announced the formation of a large black vortex that was opening right in front of them. The hooded figure, until then silent, rejoiced.

"This is it! The portal has finally opened!

The face of the being, now in evidence, revealed itself familiar to Pétros, who felt the blood freeze.

"Pelznickel!"

When he invoked its name, the demon turned holding up two clay tablets engraved with arcane symbols.

"So you have recognized me, my little servant..."

The leprechaun looked at him with hatred and repugnance.

"How could I forget who made me what I am now?"

"You were a foolish drunkard and cheat. I gave you the opportunity to be something more, but I see that you have failed miserably... Listen to me, I will be magnanimous and I will give you one more chance: as you see I am currently busy eliminating that puppet you brought along and I can't move, but you can. Take the souls of those three children and throw them into the black vortex so as to send them directly to Hell and do what pleases my Lord. If you do that, I will forget your ineptitude and promote you to general! You will be the servant commander of my servants!"

On the face of Pétros appeared a seduced smile of those who savour power.

"And will I have food and wine in abundance?"

"Wine and food to make your belly explode!"

"And will my orders be uncontested?"

"You will have to obey only me, your supreme master!"

"It's a truly captivating offer..."

He approached the demon with nonchalance, more and more thoughtful.

"Where are the keys to the cage?" asked the goblin.

The being gave him a satisfied smile.

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you! They are attached to my belt, take them quickly!" he exhorted him.

Nicholas, still engaged in the struggle, was at the end of his strength. Even though he hadn't heard, he realized that something was wrong and that the imp was about to make an irreparable gesture, and he cried out with all his energy.

"Pétros! What are you doing? Save those poor boys!"

The Krampus, after having grabbed the keys from the demon's waist, opened the door of the cage, took the terrified boys and led them to the portal among Pelznickel's glances of satisfaction.

"Well done...well done, my slave..."

The Bishop, distraught with pain, watched the scene helplessly.

"No, for God's sake, don't do it!" he implored.

Pétros, having arrived in front of the abyss, gave a strong push to the boys, but not toward the black hole, but far away from it, causing them to end up in the deep, soft snow.

"Quickly! Run!" he cried out to him when he saw them coming back unharmed.

The demon, having realized what had happened, screamed angrily.

"What have you done, you fool!"

To complete the work, the goblin took the two tablets out of the demon's hands and threw them into the portal, which sucked them dry. In a few moments the two Golems shattered into a thousand pieces, falling inert on themselves and finally giving the man the chance to catch his breath.

The boys, recognizing the face of their Bishop, rushed to him in search of help. As soon as he saw them, he hugged them tightly and wrapped them with his cloak to protect them.

Pelznickel, blinded by fury, took on the demonic form of an enormous cuttlefish and with his tentacles he firmly grabbed Pétros, who had tricked him.

"Damn you traitor! You have condemned yourself to the worst of ends, you will suffer the torments of Hell for all eternity!"

"I will be no longer a slave to anyone, better dead than a servant!"

The tentacles lifted him up into the air with the intention of throwing him into the black hole.

Nicholas decided first of all to bring the boys to safety, he held them tight and closed his eyes and disappeared with them.

When he opened them again, he found himself in his bed with the three boys who, although stunned, were safe and finally conscious.

The parents burst into tears of joy as they saw their healthy children again and began to bless incessantly the Bishop who had brought them back among them.

"Feed the children, I still have a score to settle."

Lying down again, he focused, his eyes revolved once again and his mind was once again in the world of dreams. When he appeared there he was right in front of the demon while he was still holding Pétros in his coils. Without thinking twice, he stabbed the monster's stomach, pushing the crosier as deeply as possible. The demon cried out in excruciating pain, releasing his grip. Pétros thus found himself plunging into the void in the direction of the infernal abyss, heading towards a terrible destiny. But just when he saw himself doomed, he felt himself grasped and dragged away from danger: Nicholas had managed to catch him literally on the fly and get him to safety. The rescue action, however, gave the wounded demon time to escape.

The two of them rested in the snow and looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

"Thank you for coming back to save me...boss."

"Well, boss, it's already better, and in any case I would never have abandoned a friend..."

They laughed and helped each other get back on their feet.

"So, when are you thinking of finally getting us out of here?"

Nicholas turned thoughtfully towards the beasts.

"In a moment...I was thinking about these splendid animals...they look like fallow deer, but they have something different...they are decidedly larger, and the colour of their coat is different: thicker and without spots, apart from the strange lightning-shaped mark on their foreheads...they give me the idea that they don't belong to this world, or at least not entirely...they too seem to have been kidnapped and brought here against their will.

"You're right, some of them are undoubtedly females, but they still have horns! And now that you make me think about it, the beings encountered so far all had something diabolical and in any case anomalous about them, while they seem to be tame".

Observing carefully, they noticed that a big chain was sprouting from the snow that held them prisoner.

"This confirms our hypothesis..." Pétros said, lifting it up.

"You know what I'm saying to you? That they deserve their freedom too!" Nicholas said.

In a short time they managed to break the chains by releasing them.

"I don't know where you are going, my friends, but surely any place will be better than this..." Nicholas said goodbye to her.

The beasts, almost as if they understood the words, gave a puff of response and, after giving them a glance of deep recognition, took to gallop and magically flew!

The sight of the animals running free and happy in the air left the two of them amazed.

"Unbelievable! Who knows to which race they belonged".

"I don't know, but from the thick fur I'd say that they were Northern animals. Flying deer...that's what I really missed!"

When they were found in the real world, Pétros perceived a strange sensation of dizziness, and, touching his head, he realized that something had changed.

"But...but...but...my horns! I no longer have horns?"

Nicholas watched him attentively, muttering his thoughts.

"In principle you're right, but in reality you're left with a couple of reddish bumps that aren't very nice to look at...I hope they disappear...in the meantime I suggest you use a nice headgear.

The peasants, still celebrating the happy success of the enterprise, wanted to pay back in some way, offering their saviors every kind of food good: cold cuts, cheese, wheat and a green pointed hat, which in the heat had been unintentionally stacked among the gifts. The Bishop, when he saw it, hurried to anticipate the elf.

"Here is a beautiful hat for you! You cannot refuse: you would offend these good people".

Pétros sighed, put it on and humbly thanked him while he was carrying the gifts and walking with the Bishop.

"It doesn't look bad for you...you could use it as a work uniform."

"Work uniform?" asked the astonished little man.

"Of course, you have to make a living, and my diocese needs a handyman. Do you have any experience?"

"Before that damned Pelznickel enlisted me in his ranks, I was one of the best carpenters in my city, then because of gambling debts I had to do things, let's say...undignified..."

"The past is the past, let's leave it behind us, every man has the right to a second chance and you have earned it. In two days it will be Christmas, I am entrusting you with an assignment: for that date you have to build three wooden rocking horses, I want to give them to those poor boys to try to partially erase their painful memories; don't worry about the tools and the material, I will give them to you when we get home...".

Pétros with a smile repeated that word to himself, savouring it as sweetly as he had not done in a long time.

"Home..."

Part II

The cursed oil jar

Chapter 5

It is when darkness falls that the dark forces love to act, protected from the shadows, to hide their wickedness.

Some monstrous creatures had positioned themselves, according to orders, in the neuralgic points, while others, grinning quietly, sprinkled oil on the fields following in detail the great plan.

None of the inhabitants could imagine what catastrophe would fall upon them, something that would mark them forever...

When a red light suddenly shone in the sky, many were fascinated by the unusual phenomenon, which generated hilarity. In reality it was the signal to unleash Hell. The red abandoned the sky to colour the fields, the fires spread so quickly that any attempt to stem them was useless, the destruction was total and every crop was reduced to ashes and smoke, condemning the population to starvation.

Among the despair of many, who watched the disaster in astonishment, there was a voice that brought thoughts of hope.

"We ask the Bishop for help!

"Yes! That holy man is the only one who can help us!"

"Hurry, let's go!"

So it was that a delegation left for the diocese, hoping that their bishop would not abandon them.

When the loud sound of the clapper finally succeeded in waking up Pétros, some time had passed. With a staggering gait, the little man walked towards the doorway mumbling words almost at random between yawning and yawning.

"I'm coming...I'm coming...but who is disturbing at this time of night? Thank heaven that I open the door, Nicholas would first have beaten you and then, perhaps, he would have asked what you want..."

When he opened the door he was confronted by about twenty men whose faces, blackened by smoke, were illuminated by the light of flashlights.

"Uh...I guess it's not a burnt roast, is it? Nicholas! Nicholas! I think there's a problem!"

The large delegation had gathered in a semicircle in the presbytery around the bishop reflecting, while the little helper walked nervously here and there, causing more than anything else irritation.

"The matter is serious, Excellency..." began one of the group.

"Not a single grain of wheat has been saved, and we don't know how to feed our children..." continued another one.

Pétros rejoiced, happy to have found a solution.

"Found it! We ask the Emperor to provide us with some of his, they have so much of it at the capital that he won't mind giving us a few bags of it!"

Nicholas shattered his dreams like ceramic tiles thrown to the ground.

"They have so much of it precisely because they don't give anybody any, not even an ounce, and then a few bags would never be enough for everyone? It would take at least half a load.

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