Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (34 page)

 • • • 

Once we started, I saw that ours was not the only family traveling in the caravan. Some Jews in the East had family in the West and for reasons I understood well, preferred to spend Hanukah with them. So there were other children for ours to play with and women to chat with—which was how I learned that it wasn’t sandstorms the Saracens feared but a particular band of Arab bandits.

“Bandits?” I asked, not hiding my incredulity. “Surely our large caravan has more than enough guards.”

“These bandits are different,” a woman with heavily kohl-rimmed eyes said. She glanced around furtively and leaned toward me. “They have a powerful
kashafa
with them.”

“A legion of guards couldn’t protect us,” a woman with a husky voice added, “not when she changes the camels into crows and they fly away.”

The first woman shuddered. “I heard she casts spells to put everyone to sleep, and when they wake, their valuables are gone and the women have been violated.”

“Ha-Elohim,” I gasped. What was my fate leading me to?

“Don’t worry,” an older woman declared. “My husband says our guides hired a sorcerer to accompany us, one powerful enough to force a giant sandstorm to change direction.”

“That’s a relief,” I lied. The threat of Rava having to battle a
kashafa
scared me more than facing another sandstorm.

 • • • 

From then on, my senses were attuned to even the slightest trace of sorcery, but as our journey continued we encountered no obstacles. When it came time to stop for the final Shabbat of our journey, I was surprised, and pleased, that we would be spending it at the same oasis Rava and I had visited before. The women were excited at the chance to bathe in the hot springs and assured me that some of the pools were appropriate for small children.

Rava insisted I bathe privately and leisurely, while he did the same. The slaves would take care of the children all afternoon. The gleam in his eye told me he intended to try to duplicate the circumstances of our previous encounter. So I brought my labdanum oil to the masseuse, and though she was an expert at her profession, it was difficult to relax and fully appreciate her ministrations. I wondered what, exactly, Rava had in mind, and each possibility only excited me more.

When I reached our private tent, Rava was standing there waiting, wearing only a light linen shirt. He walked past me and knotted the flap closed before turning around to gaze at me. This time I was the one wearing a cloak, and I let it fall to the floor so I only had on my sleeveless nightdress. The weather was not so hot and sultry as previously, but my labdanum perfume soon filled the air.

Never taking his eyes from mine, he said softly, “That year before we married, you have no idea how my
yetzer hara
tormented me with memories of this place, of what could have happened if I had not been distracted by my
tzitzit
.”

I wasn’t going to apologize for his suffering. “Now we are here again, an old married couple.”

He reached out and ran his fingers through my damp hair. “We are not old yet.”

We continued to gaze at each other, and I could see the desire in his eyes, as well as him fighting to control it. Then he closed them and leaned forward to kiss me.

 • • • 

Some time later, luxuriating in the languor of sexual satiety, I looked up to see Rava resting on one elbow, gazing at me. “Dodi, I know something is bothering you, and because you haven’t told me about it, I have concluded that it must be something I have done.”

“No, Abba, you have been an exemplary husband.” I wanted to reassure him, but my chin began to quiver. It wasn’t his fault a man’s livelihood took precedence over a woman’s.

“Yochani and Salaman were both concerned about your frequent cemetery visits, but Yochani said you wouldn’t confide in her,” he said gently. “When I asked Salaman to discover the source of your unhappiness, he said you would suspect his intentions if he probed too far. So I am asking you myself.”

It was impossible to refuse him, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I poured out the source of my discontent.

“My poor Dodi.” He pulled me close and stroked my hair. “Worrying over how to tell me you wanted to leave Pumbedita while I was wondering how to tell you the same thing.”

“You want to leave too?” I rolled over to convince myself that I’d heard him accurately.

“For some time.” He gave me a wan smile. “Rav Yosef has passed the place of repeating himself and reached the point where he no longer remembers what he used to know, while Rav Oshaiya admits there is nothing new he can teach me.”

“What about Abaye?”

“I will miss his friendship, but remember what Bar Hedaya said about him when I finally paid.”

It came to me immediately. “That Abaye would die and you’d become head of the
beit din
in his place.”

“Which means that Abaye will become head after Rav Yosef, not me.” There was no anger in Rava’s words, only resignation. “Therefore I must start again somewhere new.”

“Sura.” A great weight was lifted off me and I hugged him tight. “You can study with Father, and I can study with . . .” I didn’t know who my new teacher would be, but I was confident I’d find her in Sura.

 • • • 

The ancient Pumbedita dock looked the same as always. The river was running high so its waves slapped against the quay more loudly, but the breeze still carried the stench of decaying fish. As usual, no sooner had we disembarked than carters surrounded us, offering their services.

Rava chose a burly man we’d hired before and turned to Tobia. “Hurry and load our things. The children are hungry.”

Together, Tobia and Papi made short work of the task, and soon we stopped in front of Abaye’s.

No sooner had the gate opened than the doorkeeper told the carter, “Don’t unload anything. Your passengers will be departing soon.”

The carter turned to Rava. “I can wait while you get something to eat and use the privy.”

Before Rava could reply, Abaye ran out to meet us. “You must leave for Sura immediately.” He turned to me, his face full of sympathy. “Your mother is very ill. Em left weeks ago to attend her.”

I gasped and grabbed Rava’s arm in shock. “What have you heard since then?”

“Nothing,” Abaye replied. “At least Em has not returned yet. That is a good sign.”

The caravan guides had been right about the Euphrates’s swiftness. Numb with shock and grief, I watched the dark water rush past while the rest of our household slept on board. I knew not to pray for something that cannot be changed. But I prayed nonetheless that Mother might recover, or at least that she would still be alive when I saw her.

 • • • 

I must have dozed off, for I was jolted awake by our ship bumping into the landing. I couldn’t wait for the sailors to tie the ropes but jumped onto shore and bounded up the hill to the villa. The sky was lightening with impending dawn, but torches still burned at the gate.

Relief suffused the doorkeeper’s face when he saw me. “You needn’t rush, mistress. Your mother is still in this world and may it be Heaven’s will that she remain here for some time.”

I leaned against the doorpost and thanked Elohim I’d arrived in time. “When can I see her?”

“She said you were to be shown in immediately, even if she were asleep,” he replied.

As if on cue, one of the kitchen slaves, who were always up and working before dawn, hurried over to wash my feet. “Mistress Shayla sits with your mother. The healer Em is sleeping.”

I followed the girl to the room off the
traklin
where I’d spent my two wedding nights. Lamps burned within, and my heart pounded with dread. Shayla looked up, smiled wanly, then tiptoed to the doorway where I stood and propelled me back out. In that brief moment I knew Mother would linger in this world a while longer. There were none of the smells of impending demise Em had taught me to recognize, and I sensed no demonic presence.

Shayla and I sat on the nearest cushions, and while the rest of my household was being settled upstairs, she answered my unasked questions. “A month after you left, Mother developed a cough. We tried the usual remedies, with no improvement, and as the weeks passed, she had more difficulty breathing. When she began coughing up blood, we sent for Em, who prepared a potion of milk from white goats, mixed with carob and marjoram. This has quieted her cough and made her more comfortable, but the remedy is only temporary.”

“So she’s not in pain?”

“No, nor is she delirious. She is very weak and cannot talk for long, but I know she wants to talk with you.” Shayla reached out and squeezed my hand. “Now that you are here, I hope it will cause her to rally.”

“Have you been with Mother all night?” When Shayla nodded, I continued, “I’ll sit here until she wakes.”

Shayla thanked me, and I silently took her place. A while later, Rava put his head in, and shortly after sunrise Father did so as well, but each time I put my finger to my lips and they withdrew. The sun had risen fully when I had the feeling I was being watched.

TWENTY-ONE

NINTH YEAR OF KING HORMIZD II’S REIGN
• 309 CE •

“Is that you, Daughter, or am I dreaming?” Mother whispered.

I took her hand. “I am here, Mother.”

She opened her eyes a crack. “Help me sit up.”

Mother was already propped up by several cushions, but I rearranged them so she was more upright. A slave, who must have been listening outside for Mother’s voice, entered and placed a steaming cup on the bedside table. “Em says the mistress is to drink it all within an hour.”

The slave bent over to blow out the lamp, but Mother said, rather forcefully for someone so ill, “Leave it burning.” Then she turned to me. “Hold the cup steady so I can drink.”

Eventually Mother emptied the cup. “Thank Heaven that milk and carob mixture tastes good. Em wanted me to try
natopha
kneaded with a white dog’s excrement, but I’d rather the Angel of Death came a little sooner than consume something so vile.” When I looked shocked, she added, “I’ve already lived a long time. My sons are grandfathers themselves.”

“You’re not afraid of Samael?” It was part question, part statement.

Mother shook her head. “We have agreed that my end will be without pain and I will have time to set my affairs in order.”

I was beginning to doubt Shayla’s assessment that Mother wasn’t delirious when I suddenly felt the presence of magic, and the lamp went out. Worried about its source, I checked outside but saw no one except slaves preparing the morning meal.

“Is something wrong?” Mother asked.

“Someone just cast a spell, but I don’t see her.” I had no doubt a woman had done it.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I have an excellent sense about these things.”

Mother smiled. “I mean are you sure you don’t see her.” Before I could check the doorways again, there was another, stronger surge of magic and the lamp reignited.

I stared at her in amazement. Controlling fire with such precision was very powerful sorcery. “You, a
charasheta
? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It is not permitted.” She looked at me with the same anticipation Rava showed while waiting for Papi to comprehend a difficult Mishna. “I had to be careful not to let you catch me casting any spells.”

Dumbstruck, I considered the signs. When I’d begged Father to cast a spell to save us from the crowd at Ezekiel’s tomb, and then the exilarch unexpectedly arrived to do exactly that, I’d assumed Father was responsible. But Mother had been there too. Two of Mother’s closest friends were Em and Tabita, both highly skilled
charasheta
. And hadn’t Mother just admitted to making an agreement with the Angel of Death?

Mother was an enchantress, a powerful one, yet I, her own daughter and a
charasheta
myself, hadn’t known this. I was almost certain Rahel didn’t know either. Wait—hadn’t Tabita explained that only a privileged few were allowed to know the identity of the head sorceress? Didn’t Mother just tell me that it was not permitted for her to tell me she was a
charasheta
? I suddenly recalled that after helping Tabita prepare that curse bowl, I’d wondered what magic she’d used to consult the head sorceress so quickly. Why hadn’t it occurred to me that it wasn’t magic at all, that the two lived in the same town?

My jaw dropped as I came to the inescapable conclusion, and at the enormity of what had been hidden from me. I couldn’t ask Mother about her status directly, but I had other questions, many other questions. “Why didn’t you train me?” Now I’d never have the chance to learn from her.

“I would have liked to, but you were too much a novice.” She gazed at me with regret. “It was best for you to study with Em, especially since Rava was unlikely to leave Pumbedita.”

“We’re leaving Pumbedita now, but it is too late,” I said bitterly. Then I explained the reasons for our decision.