Chlothar had changed his mind.

Radegund still had friends at Court, and one sent word now that Chlothar’s advisers were urging him to reclaim his queen, to assert his rank before all. They had touched him where a Frank was most sensitive – in his pride. And now he had set out from Soissons to take her back. He wanted the Church’s backing in this. But a chill remained between him and Bishop Blandy, and so he was passing through Paris to ask Bishop Germain to join him.

Radegund knew that Germain was pious. She wrote him, begging him to dissuade the King. Her letter reached the bishop at a villa near Tours where the group had stopped en route.

Only later did she, like many others, hear what happened next.

Germain had indeed pleaded with Chlothar to leave her free to live a pious life. But Ragingot rose, dressed in a fine yellow robe, to insist Chlothar’s prestige required that he retrieve his wife. As he started to speak, a dark streak appeared at the back of his robe, as a foul brown liquid began running down his leg. Mortified, he turned and raced to find a latrine, the stinking flow trailing behind him. All at once, others attending Chlothar were stricken in the same way and soon a crowd of them collapsed outside the latrine, helpless to hold back their bowels. They soon forgot their embarrassment in the overwhelming odor and the unrelenting spurt of brown matter that soaked their fine clothes through. Those watching felt all the more horror as the men, all exalted lords, collapsed, their strength flowing from them with the fluids from their bodies.

Within days, all were dead. Many claimed later that those struck had joined Ragingot in urging the King to go after Radegund. Whatever the truth, Chlothar was terrified by what he took as a judgment from God. After the dead lords were hastily buried, he fell to his knees and begged for absolution from Germain.

“What can I do, Holy Lord, to be forgiven?”

Germain looked down at him sternly. “It is not me, but Radegund you must ask.”

Word spread quickly of the Frankish lords’ fate. Radegund no longer feared being dragged back to Soissons. But nor did she know what to expect from the King. Then a royal messenger came to Saix. The King had only one request: to know how he could help in her work for the Lord. She smiled, seeing that Christ had answered her prayers.

At Tours, two convents stood right by the basilica. Seeing the nuns had reminded her how happy she had been in the convent at Noyon. That was what she wanted: her own convent, a place to live a life of holiness and service. But where? Tours had all the churches, monasteries, convents and other holy establishments it could house. However, Poitiers, St. Hilary’s resting place, lay just south of Saix. Perhaps she could be of service there?

She went with Agnes to visit the city. Here too, pilgrims stood in line, but outside the walls, where St. Hilary’s basilica stood. The lines were long; they would come another time to pay their respects. For now, she studied the sturdy walls which encircled the city, set on a low hill. Riding in, she saw old houses built against the walls, not far from the gate.

The city was busy, with pilgrims and others, but not so busy as Tours. She could do some good here. What is more, she knew Chlothar owned much property in Poitiers.

She went to the cathedral and asked to see the new bishop, Pientius. He was a genial man, already old, and happy to talk of his city and its people. He welcomed the idea of a convent – Poitiers lacked religious houses. He returned with Radegund and Agnes to the walls. “The people here are very poor,” he said. “They would welcome better houses.” No doubt there were places among Chlothar’s properties to move them. She began to realize how many such details she would have to consider in building a convent.

“Your convent will be a rich one,” said Pientius, “and so you will have much business to transact with merchants and the convent’s agents. As you are a queen” – he ignored her protest – “and the good king Chlothar is endowing your house, no doubt men of rank will want to pay their respects. You may without scandal receive male visitors in the refectory. None however may enter the convent proper, except, sometimes, the doctor and of course your spiritual guide.” The man, that is, who would see to the women’s Communion and other rites. At first, she bridled at the thought. One thing she had loved at Noyon was the community of women. Still, no doubt there too men would have come to see to their spiritual needs, to at least give the appearance of guidance. And here, as the founder, she would have implicit authority, deciding on when to call upon such… help.

She thought for a moment. “We will build a monastery across from the convent. Far enough, of course, to avoid all scandal.”

“Of course,” said the bishop.

Before she left Poitiers, she wrote Chlothar and told him what she needed: a convent, and a monastery to serve its nuns. Chlothar, still shaken by the sudden deaths of his greatest lords, was only too glad to be able to associate himself with her piety, to find favor and forgiveness in the eyes of God. He sent her the deeds to several of his properties in or near Poitiers, and bags of golden triens to begin construction. If she needed more, she had only to ask.

For a year, she lived between Saix and Poitiers. She instructed the intendant of her estate to ensure the poor would be cared for, but also that the fruits of the estate would go to the new convent. In Poitiers, she found or built new houses for those who would be displaced. Pientius chose an abbot for the monastery and both met with Radegund to lay out the plans. After several months, the space by the wall was clear. The convent began to rise. The city wall formed one side of an enclosure, which continued in a smaller wall around the convent. Inside, a square of buildings held rows of cells, flanked by a chapel on one end and a refectory at the other, with a kitchen and an oven just beyond it – to avoid fires –, and a simple bathhouse beside these. Herb gardens were to fill the courtyard. A long building ran parallel to this square: a small hospital. Latrines were built between this and the main building. Stables and storehouses were set along the convent walls.

Just outside the gate, between the new monastery and the convent, she ordered a guesthouse built, with a small garden, and beside it a house for a doctor, who would see to both the monks and the nuns, as to their servants.

Chlothar sometimes inquired on her progress and often sent, unasked, further funds. She was gratified despite herself, too preoccupied with her new spiritual home to dwell on all his crimes. On the estate, more and more spoke with sorrow of her planned departure. More beggars came, wanting to enjoy her charity while she was still there. The sick too came, almost as if to a saint, hoping just a leaf touched by her hands would cure them.

She began to write to bishops all over Gaul, letting them know that any women in their dioceses who wanted to take orders would be considered for her new community. She said nothing of their rank and in fact did not herself care. But knowing the new convent was that of a queen, the bishops sent only the names of high-born women.

The week that the convent was finished, the new postulants gathered at Saix. As servants prepared her baggage and her wagons, tenants came from all over the estate to watch in sorrow, eager for a last glimpse of their holy lady. Many followed on foot as she and Agnes began their journey, leading wagons filled with women, some young, some old, some virgins, some widows, all from the best Roman and Frankish families.

When they came to the city gates, a crowd already awaited them. The tenants from Saix joined it, many climbing on roofs for a better look, calling out their thanks and prayers as Radegund reached the main door to the convent and dismounted. She and Agnes waited as the others joined them. Then all went in, Agnes and Radegund leading them, and gathered at once in the chapel, where Bishop Pientius led them in prayers of thanks for their new home.

The abbess -->