Despite its overtly spiritual subject matter, M.T. Anderson’s Nicked isn’t a story about religion. Rather, it’s a fluffy, irreverent, and often hilarious mashup of a heist, a quest, and…wait for it…a rom-com. The novel’s philosophy might best be described as “seize the day” — and if you can corrupt an innocent young monk while you’re at it, all the better.

The year is 1087. Nicephorus, a Catholic monk with an “irritatingly pure and generous heart” and an inability to lie, has a problem. Dom Helias, the abbot of Nicephorus’ monastery, has (mis)interpreted a “sacred dream” Nicephorus had about Saint Nicholas. The abbot believes the dream means Nicholas is “dissatisfied” with the location of his corpse, which is believed to be in Myra, a city in Lycia (modern-day Turkey).

With the encouragement of the archbishop and a local duke, the abbot dispatches Nicephorus to sail from Bari, a port city at the heel of Italy, to Lycia along with “a rabble of misanthropes, cat burglars, toughs, and refugees from the laws of many nations.” Their mission: to “liberate” the 700-year-old cadaver so the “holy oil” that oozes from it may be used as an elixir to end a deadly outbreak of syphilis in Bari.

Nicephorus isn’t convinced that the abbot’s interpretation of the dream is correct or that the task assigned to him is worthy or moral, but he’s in no position to refuse, so he agrees to go.

The rabble’s leader is Tyun, a Tartar and a fast-talker who knows what he wants and how to get it. When the expedition’s financial backers become suspicious of Tyun’s boasts about his acclaimed relic-hunting exploits and one of them questions whether he’s even a Christian, he’s quick to reply, “Christ is engraved within my heart.” That no one believes him doesn’t matter. Nor does it matter that he didn’t expect them to.

Historical records of the real-life Nicholas suggest he was born in 280 AD in a Roman town in what is now Turkey and, as an adult, became the bishop of Myra. Tales of his generosity to the poor and sick led to his beatification and, later, to his role as a precursor to the modern-day red-suited, gift-giving Santa Claus.

He’s thought to have died and been buried in Demre, now also in Turkey, in about 343 AD. Did thieves bring his body to Bari in 1087, or to Venice in 1099, or later, to Kilkenny, Ireland? The answer isn’t clear. In fact, these and so many other similar claims exist that a 2018 National Geographic article concluded Nicholas’ remains were “likely scattered around the world as holy relics.”

Relics are objects associated with important religious figures from the past, such as saints’ bones and pieces of the “true cross” from Jesus’ crucifixion. Monasteries and cathedrals own and display relics because they’re believed to have healing powers. They also confer prestige and attract tourists and their money. Of course, it’s impossible to prove today that any of the relics associated with Nicholas are actually the physical remains of a man who died 1,600 years ago.

Back to the story. Initially, Tyun declares that Nicephorus is “utterly useless” for the purposes of the journey and the nabbing of Nicholas’ corpse. But there’s more going on here than a plot to steal a dead saint’s bones.

At first, Tyun merely touches Nicephorus in passing — they are, after all, sailing on a relatively small craft with a lot of people, including a dog-headed mate and a giant, aboard. Before long, however, the attraction between the relic hunter and the monk becomes unmistakable as Tyun grows affectionately handsy and flirtatious, and the monk has no objections:

“Nicephorus could not stand the touch of [Tyun’s] hand upon [his cheek] anymore. It was too desired to be welcome.”

The initial negotiations for Tyun’s services, followed by the voyage to Lycia and the gang’s multiple botched attempts to locate and steal the actual body of the actual Saint Nicholas, provide plenty of opportunities for hijinks and heroics. Buckets of piss, barbarians, singing nuns, goats, sheep, secrets, tall tales, murder, loyalty, betrayal, plunder, pleasure, and so much more — it’s all here.

Throughout, brief interludes describe Nicholas’ life and his sometimes-creepy miracles. Within one such aside, there’s a moral of sorts:

“Remember, when you are trapped in this life, that often whatever liberates you, whatever transports you, must drag you by the hair to yank you free.”

Will Nicephorus and Tyun succeed in their quest to steal Nicholas’ corpse — or even find it? Will they return safely to Bari? Will they get their happily-ever-after ending? Readers will be eagerly turning the pages of this hilarious and heartwarming tale to find out.

Marcie Geffner is a writer, editor, and book reviewer in Ventura, California.

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