Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (35 page)

“How so?” she asked.

“The dead one’s skin is thick and rigid, and of course he will not jump or bleed when you make the cut.”

Miriam nodded. “But why circumcise a dead child? Mitzvot are for the living.”

“Father Abraham was the first to be circumcised,” Avram said. “And so he stands at the entrance to Gan Eden, where he admits only those who are also circumcised.”

“Do I have to wait for
tahara
or can I circumcise a stillborn immediately?” That would be one advantage of the midwife being a
mohelet
.

Avram shrugged. “Whenever you like. This is a custom, not a commandment.”

Just thinking of those dead babies made Miriam shudder, and she shifted her son to the other breast. He seemed healthy enough, and tomorrow, after his
brit milah
, he would be out of danger from Lillit and her demons. She smiled with anticipation. Maybe tomorrow, with her own son’s
milah
, Avram would let her do more than put on the bandage.

 

Across the courtyard, alone in her bed, Rachel wasn’t sleeping either. Her breasts were too swollen and sore to lie on her belly, which meant that her flowers would start any day now. Then she’d suffer a week of cramps and back pain. Miriam mixed potions of wild celery and fenugreek for her, and hot baths helped too, but Miriam made it clear that when this problem afflicts a virgin of marriageable age, it’s because there’s too much corrupt seed in her, seed meant to be drawn out by a male during marital relations.

It wasn’t fair. When women expelled their excess seed it hurt, but when men expelled theirs in nocturnal emissions, it felt good. A man could also relieve his needs with a harlot, while all she could do was wait until she was married. Rachel sighed. Only three months left.

Now she would only have to endure a few more months of flowers before pregnancy and nursing would make them merely an occasional annoyance. Look at Joheved, who only flowered once after she got pregnant with Isaac, and that was eight years and three children ago.

Rachel rolled onto her side, but that was equally uncomfortable. After beginning her flowers last year, she’d assumed that she and Eliezer would marry that summer. But Papa neglected to inform Eliezer’s family in Provence, thus ensuring that they arrived at the Hot Fair unprepared to host a wedding. It still made her angry to think about it.

By then the Jewish community was occupied with the upcoming nuptials of the
parnas
’s son, Joseph, to a woman young enough to be his daughter, while all of Troyes was celebrating the marriage of Count Thibault’s oldest son, Étienne-Henri, to Adèle de Angleterre, the bastard King Guillaume’s only daughter. Both Thibault’s cellarer and Isaac haParnas requisitioned Papa’s best wine for their banquets, along with every other luxury victual in the city. Eliezer had begged his father not to delay, but Shemiah agreed with Papa that they should wait until more provisions were available.

Eliezer—she had such strange feelings about him. He could infuriate her like no one else, except maybe Papa. Yet she wanted to be with him every moment, and if they were apart, she often found herself wondering what he was doing.

Last summer wasn’t so bad. Eliezer was occupied studying Talmud and getting to know Shemiah’s clients, while she’d been busy helping Alvina with the jewelry business. Funny how she ended up working with Judah’s mother. Jewels fascinated her, and the summer after Miriam’s wedding she tried to surreptitiously watch whenever Alvina met with a customer. The following year Alvina permitted her open presence, and then Alvina took her on as an apprentice. No longer the careless child who lost the lady merchant’s emerald ring, she now kept Alvina’s accounts.

Then the Hot Fair ended, Eliezer went home for the Days of Awe, and she couldn’t stop worrying about him. There were so many dangers on the road—storms, highwaymen, unstable bridges, dishonest innkeepers in league with thieves. What if he were injured, or worse, had an accident? Look what had happened to Miriam’s fiancé. She was panic-stricken when the Cold Fair opened and Eliezer’s family hadn’t returned.

But they arrived before the week was out, and the look in Eliezer’s eyes when he saw her was almost worth the separation. She so much wanted to be alone with him, but they could never steal more than a few moments together before Papa or Mama interrupted them. Not until Meir came to their rescue.

He approached Papa over
disner
, his face creased with worry. “Salomon, I must beg a favor from you.”

Papa looked at him with concern and nodded.

“My mother is ill with the flux, and many on the estate, including the steward and the man we hired to prune the new vineyard, are stricken too,” Meir explained. “With my poor father gone, may his merit protect us, Joheved is trying to run the manor, care for the sick, and nurse little Hannah too. We would be grateful if you could send Eliezer and Rachel over to prune our vines. The new vineyard is small; it will only take them a few weeks.”

Papa stroked his beard. It was already mid-February and pruning needed to be finished before the end of March. Rachel and Eliezer held their breaths, not daring to look at each other. She hadn’t prayed for anything so hard since he returned safely to Troyes. But Meir left Papa no choice. Joheved needed help, more help than one person could provide. Miriam couldn’t go, not in her condition, and none of the other students had Eliezer’s pruning skills.

Meir must have realized what was holding Papa back because he said, “I assure you that they will be carefully chaperoned.”

“Very well,” Papa finally said. “But only until your hired man is healthy again.”

It took the fellow two weeks to regain his health, and then a snowstorm kept Rachel and Eliezer in Ramerupt even longer. It was wonderful. As long as they got the pruning done, they could sneak behind the bushes to steal kisses whenever they wanted. In the evening, Meir shared the day’s Talmud lesson with them and Joheved. Poor Joheved—there was such a look of longing on her face when they studied Talmud together.

Rachel sighed in sympathy at the memory, then got up to use the chamber pot. No blood yet, but there would be any day.

 

When Hannah began to whimper, Meir woke just enough to see that it was still dark before pulling the covers over his head. Joheved said the baby’s molars were coming in, but it was always something. The child had yet to give them a full night’s sleep. A few moments later, Joheved brought Hannah back into bed with them. Meir groaned inwardly, as any chance of using the bed that morning evaporated. Not that they’d been able to do it in the morning for some time.

He tried to relax and ignore the small movements next to him, but sleep eluded him. When was he going to find the right moment to tell Joheved what he’d decided to do about Zipporah, Shemayah’s daughter? Last year, when Shemayah’s wife gave birth to another boy, Avram refused to circumcise him. But the child bled to death from a small cut before he was six months old, and Shemayah was beside himself with grief. And not just because he’d lost another son.

“I don’t know what to do about Zipporah,” he confided to Meir. “Who will I find to marry her? With this death, there’s no doubt that the women in my wife’s family are cursed.”

“With your scholarship and your father-in-law’s wealth, someone will offer for her.”

“Who?” The word was thrown down like a gauntlet. “Not anyone I would want as a son-in-law.”

Shemayah looked so despondent that Meir spoke without thinking. “Don’t worry. She can marry Isaac.”

The effect this had on his study partner was extraordinary. Shemayah’s face lit up and he threw his arms around Meir. “You would do that for me?” He hugged Meir tightly.

“Of course.” Meir embraced Shemayah in return. “And once Isaac marries Zipporah, you’ll have no trouble finding suitable husbands for any sisters she may have.”

Afterward, Meir realized the problem he had created for himself. Knowing Joheved would be furious, he prevailed on Shemayah to keep his offer secret until he’d informed her.

But then his father died, and it seemed best to wait until they stopped mourning. Next Hannah was born, and he didn’t want to disturb Joheved’s good mood. And later, between pruning the new vineyard, helping Mama run the manor and keep its accounts, teaching Isaac and Samuel to read—she was so busy that he didn’t want to spoil the rare time they spent together with news that was sure to provoke a quarrel.

Hannah was quiet now, and Joheved squeezed up next to him. Automatically he pulled her closer. Her back was warm alongside his chest, and her derriere pressed pleasurably against his thighs. A wave of tenderness coursed through him. If it weren’t for Joheved, he’d be stuck in Ramerupt instead of teaching Talmud in Troyes’ yeshiva.

Tomorrow was the
brit milah
for Miriam and Judah’s new son. Maybe Joheved would be in a good enough mood that he could tell her then. Relieved with his decision, Meir drifted off, waking some time later to the sounds of his mother trying to hush his sons’ boisterous start to the day. Joheved and Hannah were still asleep, and he dressed as quietly as he could. It was best not to wake such heavy sleepers. Their souls might have difficulty returning to their bodies.

 

When her daughter’s whimpers finally woke her, Joheved could tell by the sunlight streaming through the shutters that it was well past dawn. She stretched and got up to change Hannah’s swaddling. She hadn’t felt truly rested since Meir’s father died. She had so much to do afterward that the usual tiredness of early pregnancy never lifted.

Once they discovered that the old vineyard bore decent fruit, she’d felt compelled to uncover all the vines, prune them properly, and keep them in production. Never mind that she would have to do this in addition to all her normal duties. Thank Heaven that Meir recruited one of Papa’s employees, a married man with two strapping adolescent sons, to move to Ramerupt and help work the new vineyard.

Hannah attended to, Joheved dressed and came downstairs to find the manor’s account books laid out for her on the dining table, along with some bread, cheese, and fruit. The others had long since eaten breakfast. It looked to be a beautiful spring day, so Meir was probably going over their sons’ lessons with them in the courtyard.

Sadness welled up in her. Before Hannah came along, when she started teaching Isaac to write the Hebrew letters and read from the Torah, little Samuel would sit on her lap or play nearby. But it wasn’t long before he said something, or maybe asked a question, that proved he’d been learning right along with his brother. She’d been so proud, so eager to tell Meir about their clever young son. Now she scarcely saw them.

She was shocked when Meir decided that the boys should study with him and Papa. She was just as capable of teaching them Torah as her father was, but she had too many other demands on her time, Hannah chief among them. She admitted that Isaac was ready, but little Samuel was too young to leave her.

She cried as she watched them ride away that first day, Samuel seated in front of Meir on the tall grey horse, Isaac on his own dappled pony. It wasn’t only that her babies were growing up and leaving her. They were going off to study Torah and she wasn’t. Just thinking of that day brought her to tears. She blinked and settled Hannah down on the floor with a string of colored beads. As soon as she finished the manor’s finances, her family could leave for Troyes.

At least she’d given up the yeshiva willingly, for Meir’s sake. Not like poor Emeline, who’d been forced out of her convent and into a life she hated. After meeting in Ramerupt, the two of them had corresponded sporadically, using the Jewish merchant who did business with Plancy as a courier. Emeline had given Hugh de Plancy an heir, Hugh the Younger, but she wrote nothing of her personal life.

It was at the christening of Count André’s latest child, almost two years ago, that she’d learned why not. Joheved hadn’t wanted to attend the christening, but it was too soon after Samuel’s death for Meir or Marona to socialize.

Emeline had seen her first and rushed to embrace her. “I prayed that you or Miriam would be here. You look wonderful; that blue silk is so becoming on you.”

“
Merci
, it’s good to see you, too.” Joheved took Emeline’s arm and whispered, “I wasn’t sure I’d fit into it. I’m enceinte again.”

“I am too,” Emeline said in an even softer voice.

“We must find a place to sit down.” No wonder Emeline looked so pale.

“Nobody at Plancy knows. They wouldn’t have let me come if they did.” Emeline’s chin began to quiver. “I had to get away.”

Emeline’s tears were falling in earnest now, and Joheved propelled her toward a bench behind a hedge. “Who wouldn’t have let you come? Your husband?”

Emeline could only shake her head. Finally her sobs weakened and she took a deep breath. “His mother, Gila ... may God grant she be consumed in hellfire. She wouldn’t even let me attend the christening of Prince Louis last year.”

“You were invited to honor King Philippe’s new son and your mother-in-law didn’t let you go!” Joheved’s voice rose with indignation. “What power can this woman have over you? You are the baroness of Plancy now. You’ve born a healthy heir.”

“Oh, Joheved, my life is filled with such misery.” Emeline sat up, blew her nose on her sleeve, and told her story. “Gila says she’s the baroness of Plancy. She keeps the keys and runs the estate just like before, and rather badly from what I’ve seen. You wouldn’t believe the laziness and corruption she tolerates. Everything I learned here in Ramerupt, including how to ride, has been completely wasted.”

Emeline’s voice hardened as she described her tormenter. “She has taken away my books and writing implements, saying that because Eve’s words persuaded Adam to eat the apple, thus causing the woes of the world, women should speak as little as possible, and not read or write at all. You have no idea how difficult it was to get a letter to you. I waste my days in idleness, spinning or embroidering, my sole comfort the few hours I spend with my little Hugh. At night my husband has his way with me and then goes to cavort with his mistress.”