Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (54 page)

It filled me with pride when I saw how patient and good-tempered my husband was with all these strangers. Yet how it pained me that he could not act similarly with his own son. While there was some improvement once Joseph’s family consented to visit us twice a year, for Sukkot and Pesach, I was forced to take his younger brothers to Pumbedita at other times.

Thus I happened to be there when Em died, peaceably in her sleep. Except that she was close to eighty, her death was unexpected since she had neither been ill nor complained of any physical problem. I was grateful to have shared her final days and to see all the friends and clients, many of whom I knew from my years as Em’s apprentice, who attended her funeral.

Without Em’s protection, Abaye would soon be smitten with Eli’s curse. Though Abaye was an old man now, Rava would still be bereft when his great friend died. When I returned home, I told Ashmedai to appear to me as soon as he learned when Abaye was destined to die, so Rava could be there.

 • • • 

A month passed, then another, and another. King Shapur reached his majority, appointed Adurbad high priest, and then stunned the nobility by mobilizing the Persian army to attack the Arabs who had so freely plundered his western lands as he was growing up. One by one, the tribes fell before him. Those who surrendered promptly were resettled in new cities to the east. On those who did not, he inflicted a unique punishment.

Adurbad described it when they returned at the end of the fighting season. “The king dislocated or broke the right shoulder of every Arab survivor,” he said, his voice full of awe. “Thus assuring his enemies would never again lift a sword or bow against him and that their bodies would display the ignominy of their defeat for all to see.”

The magus loved telling war stories, and my sons and grandsons loved hearing them, just as my brothers and nephews had sat transfixed as Father’s old steward, Timonus, regaled them with tales of his days in the Roman army.

“Shapur himself, mounted on his charger and, being taller than the rest, led his whole army.” Adurbad depicted the scene with enthusiasm. “Wearing a golden ram’s head inlaid with jewels, he rode up to the fortress gates, so his features might be plainly recognized, his ornaments making him such a mark for arrows and other missiles that he would have been slain if the dust had not hindered the sight of those shooting at him.”

“A very convenient dust,” Rava suggested.

Adurbad smiled and whispered that he had indeed used magic to swirl the dust into an obscuring shield around the king.

 • • • 

Shapur and his court soon left for the summer palace, but we knew he would lead his army out again when the weather cooled. I was sleeping on the roof when I was awakened by the flapping of wings. I assumed my ravens had come to report on Tachlifa, but then I opened my eyes and sat up in shock. Ashmedai crouched beside me, his wings folded behind him.

“Abaye will die at the next new moon,” he hissed.

I nodded in sad acceptance. I had somehow hoped Abaye’s kindness and Torah studies might buy him more time than this. Still, he and Rava would have several weeks to spend together and say their farewells.

On my other side, Rava stirred and raised himself up on his elbow. “What was that?” he asked in alarm as Ashmedai spread his wings and flew off.

Thankfully, the moon had already set, so the demon was merely a dark shadow silhouetted against the starlit sky. I was more thankful that it hadn’t been Rami’s form sitting there. I grasped Rava’s hand and told him what I’d learned.

He heaved a great sigh. “I expected it would happen, but I prayed it wouldn’t be this soon.”

We lay down again, and he draped his arm around me. “How soon are you leaving?” I asked.

“Tomorrow morning. It may be that Abaye will be delirious at the end, and I want to see him while he still knows me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t join you,” I said. “There are reports of more bandit attacks that involve sorcery. The
charasheta
council is being pressed to act.”

“I will miss you.” He stroked my hair. “But since I will be spending most of my time with Abaye, we wouldn’t have much time together even if you did come.”

 • • • 

Three weeks later I received a message from Rava that Abaye had died of
hydrokan
, the stomach ailment that had plagued him all his life. But the next day I had the strangest feeling. It wasn’t the dreadful chill I associated with dark magic or Samael’s presence, but I couldn’t escape the sense that something was wrong. By nightfall it was so strong that, in desperation, I put on the ring and summoned Ashmedai.

“Something bad has happened. I can feel it,” I said, pacing the room. “If you know anything about it, tell me at once.”

In all the years I’d dealt with Ashmedai, I’d never seen him show any evidence of fear. Until now.

“Tell me,” I demanded when he remained silent. “I command you.”

“Your son is dead and your husband is dying.”

THIRTY-THREE

NINETEENTH YEAR OF KING SHAPUR II’S REIGN
• 328 CE •

“No!” I screamed. “You lied to me. You promised my family would not die while I was alive.”

“I said that family under your roof would not die. Your son and husband are not under your roof.”

If I’d had a weapon I would have hit him. But I had more important things to do. “Stay here,” I ordered him. “I will deal with you later.”

I ran downstairs in my nightdress, woke up the stewards, and told them their master was ill in Pumbedita. I insisted they find the fastest chariot and have it at our gate as soon as possible. Then I went back to confront Ashmedai.

“No lies, no evasions, keep nothing hidden from me,” I demanded. “How did this come about?”

“Zafnat attacked them. She took advantage of their being at the desert’s edge in Pumbedita while you were too far away to detect her dark magic.”

“How did she know my husband was there?” I pressed him. I had a horrible suspicion that Ashmedai was involved.

“I told her.”

“What? You betrayed me?” My voice rose with my outrage.

“I had to tell Zafnat. She forced me. And she commanded me to keep our dealings secret too.”

I was so angry and so frightened I could barely think. With the hand that wore the ring, I pointed to him. “From this time forth you will have no dealings with Zafnat. You will not come when she summons you nor visit her on your own volition, not even in her dreams. And you will report to me when she tries to contact you.”

I considered my words, making sure I’d left him no opening. “What else have you told her? I mean, what else does she know about me?”

“She knows you reinstated the curse that keeps her from inhabited areas and that I helped you do it. From this, she surmised that you are now head sorceress.” I scowled at him fiercely, and he added, “She doesn’t know you have the ring.”

“Does she suspect it has been found?”

He shook his head. “The last thing I want is for more humans to know of its existence.”

“Why did she do this? She never attacked my mother.”

“She hates you. She’s jealous that you have more power over me than she does. To make matters worse, she is infuriated that King Shapur is defeating her Arab cohorts.”

“You were her lover,” I accused him.

“Naturally. You know my effect on women.”

Just then the door burst open and there was Chama. “What is going on, Mother? Why is Adurbad downstairs asking for you at this hour?” Then he saw Ashmedai and his jaw dropped.

In an instant Ashmedai assumed his demonic form, but it was too late. My son had seen him as Rami.

I pushed Chama out the door and locked eyes with the demon. “Do you know when my husband will die?”

“It has not been decided,” Ashmedai admitted.

“Then, I warn you. If he should die from Zafnat’s attack, I will give you such pain and misery you will beg me to kill you.”

 • • • 

Chama was downstairs with the magus, both of whom refused to let me travel without them. The chariots were Adurbad’s, so I had no choice but to take him. And after Chama reminded me that he had studied priestly magic as well as the secret Torah, I gave in and let him accompany us.

None of us spoke for the first hour. Chama and I had never ridden in a chariot, and while I’d seen them race, to be in one moving at top speed was both terrifying and exhilarating. At the same time I was engulfed in grief and fury. When we paused at Nehardea to change horses, Adurbad asked me for an explanation.

I had to tell him something; he was here to help us. And now that Chama had seen Ashmedai, I couldn’t keep that hidden. So I told them what I’d learned from the demon king, saying nothing of King Solomon’s ring, and we went on to discuss how to save Rava. Each of us had our own healing powers, but we wouldn’t know what would work best until we saw him. I intended to interrogate Ashmedai fully about the spell Zafnat had used.

Thank Heaven we were in the season of short nights, for the sky was beginning to lighten when Pumbedita’s walls appeared on the horizon. The city was already stirring when we reached the gates, which opened as we approached. A Persian chariot speeding up the streets had the effect of making people both rush to see us race by and scramble wildly to get out of our way.

Homa and Bibi were more than astonished by our arrival, but they saved their questions and showed us directly to Rava’s room. It was obvious what ailed him. His arms and hands were grotesquely distended, and when I lifted his linens, I groaned at the sight of his swollen feet and legs. Like Abaye, he had been stricken by
hydrokan
, but unlike his late colleague, Rava’s bloated body and thin, weak skin made it clear that his illness was caused by sorcery.

Chama dropped to his knees to invoke the healing angels, and Adurbad began mumbling some arcane, unintelligible incantation. I hurried outside to Em’s workshop and summoned Ashmedai. I had enough wits about me to ask him for an antidote, and after some attempts at evasion, he gave me directions for how to prepare it. Yet when I questioned him about Rava’s future, he repeated that it remained undecided.

Thankfully, I found the antidote’s ingredients among Em’s supplies and it did not take long to prepare. Careful not to spill the precious potion, I carried the bottle upstairs to where my husband lay. He was barely able to drink from the cup I held to his lips, and I doubted he knew whose hand was wiping his fevered brow, but eventually he emptied it. Then I closed my eyes, rested my head on his chest, and, buoyed by his regular heartbeat, recited every curative incantation I knew. Inside, my heart beseeched the angels not to let my beloved die.

Deep within throbbed the pain of knowing that Joseph was dead, for I had hoped against hope that Ashmedai’s message was false, some trick of Zafnat’s to bring me to Pumbedita. But the comfort of a normal Shiva week, sitting in silence while others consoled me, was not available, not if I wanted Rava to live.

At sunset I made more antidote, but sometime that night I fell asleep during my prayers. Chama woke me at dawn to prepare another dose and stayed to watch. I wanted to question Ashmedai again, but not with my son present. Yet Chama wouldn’t leave. I gave Rava his potion and hoped Chama would start praying again, but my son followed me out.

I stopped in the garden and faced him. “I need to be alone right now.” Hopefully he would not ask why.

“If you’re going to summon Ashmedai, I want to be there.” Chama’s eyes begged me. “I will never see it done otherwise.”

I was in no mood to argue. Besides, what was the harm? Chama had already seen the demon without ill effects. So we went into the workroom, and I said what I needed to say.

This time Ashmedai stayed in Rami’s guise, but he stared at Chama with narrowed eyes. “Your grandfather taught you well. You are fortunate to enjoy the priestly protection from demons that most Torah scholars lack.”

I gazed at my son, whose eyes were fixed on the demon’s visage. Thank Heaven he’d studied with Father.

I turned to ask Ashmedai about Rava’s future, but he replied before I could speak. “Your husband is also fortunate. If he takes the antidote for an entire week, he will recover.”

Chama supported me or I would have collapsed with relief. Still, I warned Ashmedai, “You are fortunate as well, for your punishment will be less severe. Now I release you.”

We walked back to the house, but Chama stopped me before we entered. “Am I right about whose appearance he took on?” His eyes were brimming with tears.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, it was your father’s,” I whispered. “Rava doesn’t know.”

My son contemplated this for a while before saying, “He will not hear of it from my lips.”

When Rava woke, some hours later, his eyes lit up at the sight of me. He looked at Adurbad with confusion, but at least he recognized the magus if not the circumstances of his appearance.