Radegund had burned the shrine in the name of Christ. She claimed no power of her own, wanting to stay humble in the eyes of God. Still, despite herself, she was a queen, and lady of several estates. Just as she had learned while still a girl to command at Athies, she began, as a matter of course, to exercise her authority in these roles. To her mind, she was only doing what duty required; she did not notice herself how her own strength grew.

Among her villas, she rarely found time to visit Peronne. Yet she found it peaceful when she did. It sat on a high plateau, and she loved looking down to the Somme as fishing boats trailed lines on its surface and a wedge of swans glided by with breath-taking grace.

Once, the plateau had allowed defenders to look out to every side. But no one had attacked the Franks here since two centuries ago, when the Franks were still marauders, not masters of Gaul, and Majorian had surprised Clovis’ grandfather in the middle of a wedding nearby.

The villa was not so grand as that at Vitry, but the estate’s holdings were far more extensive. A new steward drew great wealth from the tenants. “Some have been slow to bring their rents,” he said. “I have had to lock some up to encourage their contributions.”

“How then do they pay?” asked Radegund.

“I find their loved ones make an extra effort on their behalf.”

“And if they do not?”

He shrugged. “Tenants must manage it. Or waste away in the dark.”

That night Radegund heard rattling chains and plaintive moans. The next day she asked the steward what those sounds were.

“No doubt the sick in the hospital, Your Piety.”

Later, she took a walk around the villa. Behind a long high wall, she made out the roof of a building. The rest was hidden.

The sound woke her again that night. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and into the hall. Outside the villa, she returned to the high wall. Walking to the end, she found a thick wooden door, half open. Two guards were on their knees by a candle, throwing bones, a bucket of beer by their side. Beyond them, she saw a white building, with small windows along the side. Again, she heard the chains and moaning, but louder now.

“What is this place?”

Leaping to their feet, the guards grabbed their lances, then stopped. “Your Piety?”

“Who is that I hear inside?”

“Inside? Why…” They looked at each other.

“Show me!” Her tone allowed no contradiction.

One of the guards picked up the candle and the other took a large key from his belt. Hesitating still, he opened a door in the side.

A terrible stench hit her at once, of urine and feces and vomit, of mildewed clothes. Pale figures, dressed in rags, recoiled at the light. As she moved inside, she saw that all the men were shackled and lay on the bare floor. A few over-filled chamber pots were scattered in the dark. Towards the back she found several men so weak they could barely look at her. Some were clearly near death.

Rage filled her small body. “Release them! Every one of them!” The guards froze. “Christ cannot condone such treatment of one’s fellow man.”

Horizontal locks fastened the shackles, running between the two cuffs. Reluctantly, the guards began to unlock these, sticking a long key with a curved end in the underside of each. As they did, Radegund went out and back to the villa to wake Agnes. “Find some servants and bring buckets of water around to the side. And bread, any bread you can find, even scraps.”

She returned to the prison where weak, emaciated figures already crowded the small space outside the prison. She ordered the guards to give what they had for food and what remained of their beer to the prisoners.

As Agnes and others arrived with buckets of water and baskets of scraps, she watched the prisoners hungrily grab for both. She ordered the chamber pots emptied and towels and fresh water brought to clean the men. She began at once to plan how to send them home. But first they had to be washed and fed and cared for; some she could see would not survive the journey.

Agnes came up to her. “What will you tell the steward?”

“That his sick have been miraculously cured.”

The next day, she made it plain to the steward that if she found debtors treated this way again, he would replace them in the prison. As the freed men returned to their homes around the countryside, they told how the Queen’s prayers had miraculously broken their bonds and Christ had restored their freedom.

Husband and brother -->