Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (3 page)

“But you don’t know alkanet from foxglove.” Rivka’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Benjamin turned to address his future mother-in-law. “I’m sure I’d be better protection against thieves than Joheved,” he said. “And once Miriam shows me what the alkanet plant looks like, I can pick leaves as well as anyone.”

“You’re welcome to take my horse, Benjamin, I won’t be needing her.” Meir said with a wink. It wasn’t long ago that he had been desperate for time alone with his bride before their wedding.

Sarah put down her wine cup and faced her brother-in-law. “The alkanet grows fairly close to the Count of Ramerupt’s castle,” she said. “I can’t believe any criminals could hide in such a well-patrolled place.”

Salomon stroked his beard while everyone at the table waited for him to speak. “I suppose so,” he finally announced. Then he shook his finger at Benjamin. “Make sure that Miriam is never out of your sight.”

“Don’t worry, Papa. Benjamin and I will review today’s Talmud session while we ride,” Miriam said, her happiness vanquishing her mother’s frown of disapproval.

Rivka had never forgiven Salomon for teaching their daughters Talmud. It didn’t matter that he was rosh yeshiva of Troyes’ Talmudic academy, and therefore no one in the Jewish community would dare challenge his decision. And it didn’t matter that both Joheved and Miriam had found excellent matches among his students despite her insistence that no man would want to marry a woman more learned than himself. Hens didn’t crow and women didn’t study Talmud; it would only lead to trouble.

Rivka found a way to vent her displeasure. She pulled on one of Miriam’s braids until her daughter was facing her. “And I don’t care how warm it is, a betrothed woman doesn’t go outside without her veil.”

 

Within an hour the delighted couple was riding through the forest north of Troyes. It was a beautiful late summer day. While most of the foliage was still green, here and there some dazzling red or golden leaves gave a hint of autumn’s future splendor. Birds twittered overhead, seemingly adding their opinions to Miriam and Benjamin’s discussion of the Talmud.

She sighed with pleasure as his golden brown curls bobbed each time he nodded excitedly at an argument she made. “Benjamin, would you mind not cutting your hair until after our wedding?” She smiled at him. “I know it’s silly, but I want to run my fingers in your curls.”

“Ever since that morning when you tried to cure my homesickness by pretending to be my sister, I’ve wanted to be with you whenever I could.”

She chuckled. “Joheved got so angry every time I made her take me to the vineyard while you were working there. She was sure something terrible would happen.”

“She was right. You ended up betrothed to a poor vintner’s son instead of a rich Talmud scholar like Meir.” The grin he flashed made Miriam burst out laughing. He wasn’t what most people would call handsome, but he could always make her laugh.

“Remember what Ben Zoma teaches in Pirke Avot,” she said.

She smiled back at him. “Then I am the richest woman in Troyes.”

“And once we’re married, I’ll be the richest man in the whole world.” This time Benjamin’s voice was serious.

Miriam was too happy to speak. Just thinking about their upcoming wedding made her feel that her heart would burst.

Soon she heard sheep bleating in the distance, which meant they were approaching Meir’s family’s estate. Suddenly Benjamin’s horse shied. They both slowed to see what had spooked the mare and noticed a putrid smell wafting by on the breeze. A sheep carcass blocked the path ahead.

“Should we tell Meir’s parents there’s a fox attacking their flocks?” Miriam called to Benjamin as they made a wide detour.

He paused to let her catch up with him. “I don’t know. If we drop in on them, they’ll insist on offering us hospitality, which will only delay us.”

“Not only that,” Miriam said, a shy smile lighting her face. “If Marona hears we’re out to collect alkanet, she’ll probably want to come with us.”

Their gazes locked. “Perhaps we could stop by on our way back?” Benjamin said, and Miriam nodded.

They eventually found some alkanet bushes and Miriam began to fill her bag with leaves. “Strange, but there don’t seem to be as many plants as before. Would you mind searching for more?”

“I’ll see what I can find.” Benjamin headed back the way they’d come. There was something odd about that dead sheep, and he wanted to have a closer look at it.

He made increasingly wider circles around the area, keeping in mind the location of several alkanet bushes he passed, until he reached the downed animal.
That’s odd, there’s nothing bitten out of the carcass
. In fact, he couldn’t even see where the sheep had been attacked. Wrinkling his nose at the stink, he got down and examined the body.

Foxes hadn’t killed this sheep. Its throat had been slit and a leg cut off. Whoever did it apparently lacked the strength to move his ill-gotten gains alone and had merely carried off the leg, probably intending to return with help.

Mon Dieu, they could be back any time and I’ve left Miriam alone.
Benjamin hurriedly remounted Meir’s horse. The next moment, he heard her scream.

 

It seemed an eternity before he reached her. If he lived forever the tableau before him would remain etched in his mind. Clutching a knife in his right hand and advancing toward Miriam was a fellow so skinny and filthy that he obviously neither ate nor bathed regularly. He was staring at her with undisguised lewdness.

Benjamin’s rage flared and his immediate reaction was to drive Meir’s horse straight into the villain. But then, realizing that the mare might be stabbed, some semblance of prudence tempered his fury. He grabbed his own knife and jumped down.

“Get away from her, you filthy scum!” Benjamin positioned himself in front of Miriam and yelled to her, “Quickly, ride to Ramerupt castle and alert the guards.”

“But Benjamin, he’s got a knife,” she pleaded as she climbed onto Sarah’s horse. “He hasn’t harmed me. Please just ride away with me. He won’t be able to catch us.”

“So the girl’s little brother is here to rescue her.” The rogue sneered at them, showing a glimpse of yellow and brown decaying teeth. “Go on, little boy, listen to your sister and ride home to your mama.”

Benjamin’s burning anger flared. What an idiot this fellow was. He could have easily stolen Sarah’s horse and left Miriam alone. But no, he had let his lust rule him. Then, when their riding off would have allowed him to escape, he had stupidly insulted Benjamin, essentially challenging him to a fight, which would mean certain capture if he lost.

“I have a knife, too,” Benjamin responded. “In fact, I’ve got two.” He reached down and pulled one of his father’s pruning knives from its secret sheath in his boot.

Miriam could see that further talk was useless. She wheeled her mount around and galloped into the forest. There were few horses faster than Aunt Sarah’s, and she prayed that she could reach the castle in time.

 

Benjamin and his opponent circled each other warily. Amazed at his calmness, he realized that he’d soon find out how much remained of the proficiency with knives that the Romanian convert, Samson, had taught him. The rogue seemed surprisingly cautious until he suddenly made a run for Meir’s horse. However, Benjamin forestalled him by slapping the mare’s rump, sending her running, and was rewarded with a shower of curses.

Now they both knew that the villain had no choice but to attack, otherwise they would keep staring at each other until the castle guards arrived. Benjamin tried to remember what Samson had taught him about deflecting and parrying an enemy’s blade. He shouldn’t even try to apprehend the fellow; all he needed to do was defend himself until help came.

“You know what’s going to happen to you; they’ll probably hang you for killing a lord’s sheep.” Perhaps he could delay the inevitable charge by talking.

“Not a chance, little boy.” The man’s smile revealed that besides being decayed, several of his teeth were missing. “I’ll have killed you first, and then I’ll be safe with my friends.”

“You’re right, you won’t be hanged. You’ll be given to Count Thibault’s men and tortured until you tell them where your hideout is. Then they’ll throw what’s left of your body into a dungeon until you rot.”

Was this man a member of the gang that had been attacking the fair merchants? Benjamin suddenly realized the danger he was in. What if other criminals were nearby? Surely it would take two men to move the dead sheep.

His opponent lunged. Benjamin felt his sleeve rip and resolved to pay better attention. For a while there was silence between the two, punctuated with heavy breathing. The man attacked again, but this time Benjamin dodged the blow and stabbed his knife into the man’s thigh.

Benjamin began to feel confident; he was barely scratched, but his foe was limping badly, favoring his bloody leg. Then a look of desperation came over the outlaw’s face, and he attacked Benjamin straight on. Benjamin jumped away, but not quickly enough. The man’s knife grazed his forehead, and the wound began bleeding into his left eye. Now he could barely see. Inwardly cursing his bad luck, Benjamin tried to wipe away the blood while parrying his opponent’s thrusts.

Just when he was sure he would receive a serious wound at any moment, two dark-haired youths with swords ran up and disarmed his foe. Soft linen was wrapped around Benjamin’s forehead, and he looked up to see Meir’s father, Lord Samuel, astride Meir’s horse, staring down at him anxiously. Benjamin had been so intent on the battle that he hadn’t even heard them.

Samuel dismounted and began to examine Benjamin’s wounds. “Are you all right?” he asked. Benjamin could only nod in reply; he was too shaken to speak.

Apparently satisfied, Samuel turned his attention to the two young men. “When you’ve tied this fellow securely, search the forest for his companions.”

Then he put his arm around Benjamin’s still shaking shoulders. “Of course we feared the worst when my son’s horse showed up at the manor’s gate without a rider. I immediately mounted the mare, called my squires to accompany me, and followed her trail back here.”

Benjamin had barely begun expressing his thanks when he heard a rider approaching. Hoping it was Miriam, he was taken aback when Meir’s mother, Marona, rode into the clearing, clutching her medicine box. Her veil had slipped down, allowing her two long grey braids to flap behind her. Her already frightened expression turned to horror when she saw the blood on Benjamin.

“Where’s Meir? What happened here?” Her gaze darted frantically around the clearing.

“Meir’s safe in Troyes.” Samuel helped her down from her saddle. “Benjamin was riding his horse.”

Marona’s terror dissipated when she realized that Benjamin was relatively unharmed. After tucking her hair back into place, she carefully cleaned and applied a healing ointment to each of Benjamin’s wounds. As she did so, he recounted the afternoon’s events, yelping once when Marona removed the squire’s makeshift bandage from his forehead in order to properly deal with the laceration under it.

As they waited, Benjamin began to worry about Miriam. “I hope she made it to the castle all right.”

Samuel smiled reassuringly. “We must expect some delay. After all, a strange woman can’t just ride up to the gates, cry for help, and then ride off again with a few men-at-arms,” he said. “If she mentions her relationship to me, I’m sure my knights will aid her immediately, but if not, the sergeant may want to question her.”

“Your knights?” Benjamin’s eyes widened in surprise.

Samuel looked up at Marona and shook his head. “Apparently there are some subjects Salomon doesn’t teach at his yeshiva.” He turned back to Benjamin and sighed. “As Count André of Ramerupt’s loyal vassal, I am obliged to provide him with two knights to serve as castle guards. Of course, I’m not about to go myself or send my sons, so I hire a couple of landless knights. If I provide them with armor, weapons, a horse, and a small income, they are agreeable to serving in my place.”

“Are your squires training to become your knights?” Benjamin was glad for the small talk as Marona tended his wounds.

“Not exactly,” Samuel replied. “Alain and Pierre—excuse me for not introducing my squires, but I didn’t want to delay their search. As I was saying, their fathers sent them to me to train for the knighthood. For several years they will live with me and learn estate management, at the same time receiving their physical training at the castle. If they prove adept, they may attain the position of steward to a landed family, which would allow them to marry.”

Benjamin’s jaw dropped. “Knights don’t get to marry? I thought only monks stayed single.”

Samuel shook his head in sympathy. “
Non
, most knights don’t get to marry, either. Only the eldest son, heir to his father’s lands, may take a bride. Occasionally a younger son finds an heiress to marry, particularly if he impresses her family with his skill at tournaments. But usually he ends up either in the church, where he can live unmarried to a ripe old age, or among some castellan’s guards, where he’s lucky to live past thirty.”

“Which obviously leaves quite a few unwed young women as well,” Marona added archly. “I believe they must choose between being a lady-in-waiting or a nun.”

Benjamin pondered this new information. How could the Edomite lords be so sinful as to prevent all but a few of their number from being fruitful and multiplying? No wonder knights had such a reputation for lechery. A man without a wife would be unable to resist temptation.

“There.” Marona interrupted his reverie by standing up and wiping her hands. “You’re all bandaged now. Be sure and make the
gomel
blessing at services tomorrow—you’re a lucky fellow to have such trifling injuries.”

Suddenly he heard horses approaching. Was it finally Miriam or just Samuel’s squires? Benjamin’s heart leaped as Miriam rode into view, followed by two knights with swords drawn. She jumped off Sarah’s horse, eager to make sure Benjamin was all right. The knights also dismounted, albeit in a more dignified manner, and walked over to address Samuel.