Ethelmund receives another visit

Father Brandt stopped in the door of the barn, confused. The crucifix had been nearly finished when he had last stopped by, and now the Lord had been transformed back into a lump of wood protuding from a rough cross.

“Young Ethelmund, is it a miracle I see before me? Hast found a spell to make the dead wood grow again?”

“No, no, Father Brandt,” Ethelmund said, embarassed. “This is a new one.”

“A new one? Hast finished the first?”

“No, Father Brandt, I needed to start over.”

“Why?” Brandt cried. “Hast made a mistake too grave to correct? Last time I came, it lacked only the paint. We have no time!”

“I had to – that is, Her Majesty the Queen wanted me to change a few things on the face. And I could not make the wood grow again, as I said. So I needed to start over.”

“The Queen!” Brandt huffed. “And the King who is eager to christen his boy?”

“It was the Queen came to see me,” Ethelmund shrugged.

“Hast still the first?”

“Of course.”

“Finish the first, Young Ethelmund! It was fine work – almost as handsome a face as my own. If the Queen wants another, thou canst always make her another – afterwards!”

“And if she comes again?”

“Send her to me! If Her Majesty is more familiar with the face of Our Lord than I, I should indeed like to speak with her!”