Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (25 page)

“My lord is most blessed to be worthy of the joy of embracing her.” Milo’s eyes narrowed with defiance. “But you misapply the word
love
to the marital affections that spouses are expected to feel for each other. I am my lady’s true lover.”

“What you call love is merely lustful desire,” Rachel shot back.

“
Non
. I wish only to serve her, to prove my devotion.”

Rachel took a deep breath to calm herself. “You condemn love between husband and wife because they embrace without fear of anyone objecting. But this is the best kind of love, practiced without sin and encouraged by the security of continual embraces.”

“Anyone touched by love knows that love cannot exist without jealousy,” Milo said with confidence. “But a husband may not suspect his wife without thinking her capable of shameful conduct, and if he believes this of her, then his love ceases. Therefore true love cannot exist between husband and wife.”

It was clear they were talking at cross-purposes. It seemed Milo would never accept that Joheved and Meir loved each other, and since every woman deserves love, who better to love her than Milo? Rachel bowed her head and they rode on in silence.

 

“Rachel,” Joheved asked her later, “do you believe that Milo’s love for me isn’t carnal? That he wishes only to serve me?”

“Not for a moment,” Rachel replied. “Although he may have convinced himself of it.”

“So you don’t believe I can dissuade him?”

“
Non
, I’m afraid not. Not if he stays in Ramerupt.”

“But he’s too good a steward to dismiss,” Joheved said. “Besides, we couldn’t ask him to leave without people suspecting that I’m the cause. Milo is right about one thing: it would be scandalous for a husband to display any jealousy of his wife. It would be tantamount to an accusation of adultery.”

Rachel smiled as an idea occurred to her. “These courtly lovers are supposed to prove their devotion by performing heroic deeds, the more difficult the better.”

“
Oui
.” Joheved’s eyebrows rose with suspicion.

“English wool is the best, but I can’t afford to import it. So send Milo to Angleterre to buy a fine English ram and bring it back to father next year’s lambs.”

Joheved’s face lit with understanding. “He’ll need to be gone many months, during which time he may lose his love for me. Or perhaps he won’t find a good enough ram, which will give me an excuse to repudiate him.”

When Joheved told Milo of her request, insisting that eighteen-year-old Isaac needed to try his hand at managing the estate himself, Milo wavered between despair at being sent away and exultation at the knowledge that she was asking for his help. If he succeeded, he might be deserving of her love. Rachel hoped he’d bring back the best ram in Angleterre to bolster her chances of becoming a clothier—no matter that then Joheved would have to deal with an even more ardent suitor.

None of them, however, realized that Meir was also trying to find a solution to the problem.

fourteen

Salomon’s forehead creased with apprehension. “If you think Joheved is in danger of sinning with your steward, you must send him away immediately.”

“I can’t do that.” Meir proceeded to give the same explanation Joheved had given Rachel. “Ideally a lord should act flattered by a knight’s affection for his lady, displaying perfect confidence in her virtue. If I can’t do that, I must at least appear to ignore it.”

“But the situation is too risky. No woman can withstand such continual temptation. Not even my daughter.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, especially with me being away in Troyes so often.”

As they passed the convent of Notre-Dame-aux-Nonnaines, Meir was suddenly reminded of another spring afternoon, twenty years ago, when he and Salomon had wandered the streets of Troyes discussing Joheved’s unruly
yetzer hara
.

He’d been worried then too. “Sometimes I think of staying away longer, giving them the chance, and seeing what she’d do.”

Salomon grabbed Meir’s arm. “Absolutely not. Don’t even think of such a thing.”

“Papa, why are you so upset? Nothing’s happened yet.”

Salomon stopped to adjust his hose. “Tell me about Beruria, the daughter of Rabbi Hananiah ben Tradion.”

Meir was sure his father-in-law had a good reason for this seemingly incongruous request, so he replied, “She was the wife of Rabbi Meir, and such an excellent scholar herself that she studied three hundred laws of Talmud every day. She was impatient with those students she considered fools; yet she was compassionate in consoling Meir after their two sons died. When her father continued to teach Torah in defiance of the Romans, they executed him and her mother, and forced her sister into a brothel.”

“What is the last thing it says about Beruria in the first chapter of Tractate Avodah Zarah?”

Meir searched his memory for the obscure text.

Meir eyed Salomon with trepidation. “The Beruria incident?”

Salomon closed his eyes and sighed. “I learned this from my teachers in Mayence. It has never been written down:

Meir shuddered. What could have possessed Rabbi Meir to do such a thing? No wonder this piece of Talmud wasn’t written down. He could feel Salomon’s gaze and knew he must demonstrate what he’d learned from the ignominious tale.

“I must not be like my namesake and tempt my wife to sin.”

Salomon nodded, and they began walking again.

Meir usually prided himself on the parallels between himself and the Talmudic Rabbi Meir, especially when it came to them both having very learned wives. But now their similarity frightened him.

Meir thought of how hard he fought to hide his outrage whenever he observed Milo staring at Joheved with adulation, and his heart overflowed with sadness for Rabbi Meir and Beruria, that the scholar’s jealousy had brought about such terrible consequences. He had no choice but to trust Joheved and pray that their story wouldn’t end in tragedy.

 

Eliezer unhitched his pack animals and watched from the bridge as they lumbered to the riverbank. The gushing waterway he’d crossed on the way to Toledo had shrunk upon his return to a small stream, but at least there was some water flowing. The previous two creeks were dry. The horses drank eagerly as he scanned the cloudless sky. It hadn’t rained at all on his trip to Troyes, which normally would be a blessing, but as the passing wheat fields looked increasingly stunted and parched, Eliezer began buying grain from any estate with a surplus.

Once he reached the borders of Champagne, there was none to be had, and the covetous looks his bulging grain sacks drew made him grateful for the count’s men patrolling the roads. On his last night outside Troyes, Eliezer regretfully packed away the book he brought to read on the journey—an Arabic translation of Ptolemy’s
Great Treatise
. Until he left Troyes once more, the only languages he’d be reading would be Hebrew and Aramaic.

Thinking of Rachel, Eliezer sighed. Would she welcome him with an eager smile, or would some disaster have befallen his family while he was gone? Even if all was well otherwise, she might have her flowers. Or worse. He grimaced as he remembered the Talmudic curse, “May you return from a journey and find your wife an uncertain
niddah
.”

With some anxiety, he entered Salomon’s courtyard, where Anna was showing some new maidservants how to do laundry. That was a good sign—now Rachel wouldn’t be so burdened by housework.

Anna hurried to greet him. “Rachel and the others are still in the vineyard, but they should be home soon. Are you hungry? I can get you some bread and cheese.”

“I can wait for
souper
.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and asked, “My mother-in-law?”

“Rivka is much the same.” Anna’s expression sobered. “But Judah’s mother is very ill. He, Miriam, and the children left for Paris a month ago.”

“Any more news I should be aware of ?”

She broke into a smile. “Your children and Rachel are well—may the Holy One protect them. Just two days ago, she and Joheved went swimming together.”

Eliezer grinned back at her. Things were better than he’d expected. Together they unloaded his merchandise, giving him plenty of time to get his animals settled at the stables before afternoon services. And whom should he meet there but Judah’s old study partner, Elisha.

“So you too have just arrived in Troyes.” Eliezer greeted him with a quick embrace. “Where’s Giuseppe?”

“He’s trying to find us some new lodgings,” Elisha said as they stepped into the now well-swept streets. “The inn we were assigned to is dreadful.”

Elisha and Giuseppe were business partners, the former from Worms and the latter from Genoa. According to Rachel, who seemed to know all the Ganymedes, their relationship was carnal as well as professional. She’d also told him that Judah had once been the object of Elisha’s affection.

That reminded him. “Judah and his family are in Paris with his sick mother. You two can stay with us until they return.”

“I appreciate it, although it’s disappointing not to see Judah until the Cold Fair.” Elisha began waving furiously, and a few moments later Giuseppe joined them.

“What merchandise did you bring from Sepharad?” Giuseppe draped his arm around Elisha’s shoulder. “Perhaps we can take it off your hands.”

“The usual—dyestuffs, pepper, other spices. I can give you a good deal on cinnamon and cumin. And I picked up some grain on my way back.”

Elisha’s jaw dropped. “You have wheat? In Worms it’s worth almost as much as pepper.”

“I have some wheat, but mostly I have peas and barley from the spring harvest.”

“It doesn’t matter. Unless it rains soon, you’ll make an obscene profit on all of them.” Elisha shook his head sadly. “It hasn’t rained in the Rhineland for over six months and . . .”

“This spring was the hottest anyone can remember.” Giuseppe completed Elisha’s sentence. “People are worried about famine.”

“Surely there will be other merchants here with wheat.”

“Not if the drought is widespread,” Elisha said.

Eliezer recalled the eclipse last fall. The sun had only been partially hidden in Troyes, but in Allemagne the eclipse was total. “We should find out where wheat is plentiful and send buyers there immediately. If it’s so far away that we can’t bring the grain here by the end of the Hot Fair, at least we’ll have some to sell at the Cold Fair.”

“Giuseppe and I won’t have money to invest until the fair ends,” Elisha said. “But if you put up the capital, we can find the wheat.”

“Then we can split the profits,” Giuseppe added.

“Agreed.”

 

Eliezer’s spirits soared when he saw Rachel standing at the gate, apparently waiting for him. His gait quickened as she began walking toward him, and by the time he reached her they were both running.

“I missed you so much,” Rachel whispered between kisses.

“How much time do we have before afternoon services?”

“I’m sure there’s enough time left.” Rachel pulled him toward the stairs. “Joheved is watching the children.”

As soon as he closed their bedroom door, Rachel was in his arms, simultaneously kissing him and removing his clothes. She had already loosened her
bliaut
and chemise, which were lying on the floor moments later. Eliezer didn’t bother to take off his hose before diving onto their bed and pulling the curtains closed.

Rachel was equally eager that night, the next morning, and every day until her flowers began, two weeks later. Eliezer braced himself for the return of her dark moods, but she remained uncharacteristically cheerful.

“You’re remarkably happy for someone who has to sleep in her own linens,” he said as she made a point of slowly pulling up her hose as they dressed in the morning.

She blew him a kiss across the room. “Miriam has made being
niddah
much less unpleasant for me.”

“How so?”

“First of all, I don’t have to immerse in the synagogue’s disgusting dark
mikvah
. At least not most months.” When he looked at her with concern, as she knew he would, she continued, “Miriam showed me a lovely pond in the forest. It’s secluded, with a sandy bank, and after Papa said it was a kosher
mikvah
, lots of us go there to immerse when it’s not too cold.”

“You’ll have to show me the place.” He did a mental calculation and grinned at her. “Maybe we can use it together at Rosh Hashanah.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “Miriam also showed me how to use a
mokh
when I have my flowers. It’s less messy than wearing a
sinar
alone.”