Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (41 page)

She knew the answer as soon as he spoke. “The report I received is from a most trustworthy source,” he insisted. “There can be no doubt as to its veracity.”

“You’re sure Count Emicho didn’t get away?” a doubtful voice called out.

“He and his followers were destroyed.” Guy had to shout to be heard over the musicians. “A few men may have escaped, but we would have heard if Emicho had survived.”

“When did this happen?”

“Late summer, I believe.”

Murmurs of astonishment spread through the crowd and Meir began chanting from Moses’s Song at the Sea, which the Israelites sang after Pharaoh’s army drowned.

When Guy recognized the Hebrew, he declared, “Thus the hand of the Lord was raised against these false pilgrims, who sinned by their impiety when they slaughtered the Jews and whose guilt was manifest by their failure. For our Lord is a just judge and orders no one unwillingly to bear the yoke of Christian faith.”

Rachel hurried back upstairs to tell Papa the incredible news. He would be thrilled to hear that his commentary on those verses from Exodus had actually come to pass.

“When the Almighty raises His right arm with great Excellency, He will overthrow all enemies,” Papa had taught. “And who are His foes? The ones who rise up against Israel.”

“Papa,” she whispered. “Guy de Dampierre is here to see you. He has some incredible news.”

The only response from Salomon’s bed was his continued snoring. Reluctant to wake him from a deep sleep, Rachel returned to the courtyard.

 

Salomon bounded up the glistening marble steps.
Hopefully the wealthy benefactor of this yeshiva has attracted students whose knowledge shines as brightly as the exterior
.

Waving at him from the top of the stairs was Shimon ben Yochai, his friend from the days when the Troyes yeshiva was established. Ben Yochai wore a gold crown with pearls. “Salomon, I’ve been waiting for you. At last I can teach you all the secrets of the hidden Torah.”

Before Salomon could respond, another man came out to join them, and Salomon gasped for joy. It was Jacob ben Yakar, his very first Talmud teacher in Worms, wearing a gold crown set with sparkling jewels. Somehow Salomon did not find it odd that both these men had been dead at least twenty years.

Jacob ben Yakar took Salomon’s arm. “Let our new arrival meet the others first, Shimon,” he told ben Yochai.

Salomon’s two colleagues accompanied him through an arched canopy woven of golden grapevines, its grape clusters a mass of pearls. They came to a large garden, heady with the scent of hundreds of rose bushes. There were fruit trees of every kind, including many Salomon had never seen before, and under each tree men with crowns sat at golden tables, studying Torah. One tree had fruit that twinkled like stars, and though he’d never met them, Salomon knew that the men under it included the martyrs Amnon and Kalonymus of Mayence.

They came to a large table under a magnificent flowering almond tree, where Salomon recognized his old teacher from Mayence, Eliezer haLevi, and Rivka’s brother, Isaac ben Judah. They greeted him with pleasure and waved him to an empty bench between them.

As Salomon took his seat, the other scholars introduced themselves: Hai Gaon of Bavel, Elijah ben Joseph haCohen of Eretz Israel, Elhanan ben Hushiel of Kairouan, Samuel haNagid of Granada, and, as Salomon gaped in awe, Rabbenu Gershom ben Judah. These men did not appear quite so happy, and Salomon suddenly realized that all of them headed Talmud academies that had been destroyed in the last hundred years.

As awesome as Salomon found everything in this heavenly yeshiva, for that is surely where he was, the most amazing thing was that, in front of everyone at the table, lay a copy of his own
kuntres
. As they prepared to return to their studies, Rabbenu Gershom looked up with attention, as if someone had spoken to him. The other men grew silent as well, listening intently to something Salomon couldn’t hear.

Finally Hai Gaon stood up and addressed Salomon. “Your vineyard is too recently planted; it still requires an experienced vintner to thrive. You must return to tend it.”

Elhanan ben Hushiel, who Salomon recognized as also having written a Talmud commentary, added, “You must finish your
kuntres
, revise them so that students in other yeshivot can learn from them, not merely your own.”

“But there are no other yeshivot.” Tears spilled from Salomon’s eyes, mourning both the lost knowledge and having to leave this beautiful place.

Rabbenu Gershom’s smile and final words lifted Salomon’s soul. “After you succeed, there will be.”

 

The next morning, Rachel was awakened by Joheved banging at her door. “Wake up. There’s something terribly wrong with Papa,” she screamed. “He can’t talk and he can’t sit up.”

Rachel bolted outside just as Miriam did. They raced together across the courtyard, with Judah and Eliezer moments behind them. They found Salomon propped up in bed, his eyes unfocused, and Rachel gave a quick prayer of thanks that he wasn’t completely senseless.

But her heart sank when she took his hand in hers, for his arm was like a dead weight. And though he tried to talk, only garbled sounds resulted. It seemed like hours before Baruch returned with Moses haCohen, and another eternity while Salomon’s family waited in the kitchen for the result of the doctor’s examination.

Moses’s face was grave when he came downstairs. “A powerful demon has attacked him, and it is beyond my skill to know who will win the battle.”

Rachel burst into tears as the doctor continued, “Your father’s right side is paralyzed and his speech is confused. There is little I can do except bleed him, to correct any imbalance of humors that aids the demon.” No matter how sick the patient, Moses always gave some encouragement. “But it is a good sign that he still lives—may the Holy One protect him.”

Their expressions grim yet determined, Salomon’s daughters and sons-in-law gazed around the room at each other. They knew how to fight demons: had they not prevailed when Joheved suffered from childbed fever?

“Can we move Papa into my room?” Joheved asked. “Its doorpost has the mezuzah Papa wrote when I was ill.”

The doctor shook his head. “Not so soon.”

“Thank Heaven Mordecai the Scribe won’t be leaving until the Cold Fair closes,” Miriam said. “On Monday morning, I will have him prepare a new mezuzah for Papa’s room.” There were only two hours in the week when a mezuzah may be written: Monday during the fifth hour after sunrise and Thursday in the fourth.

“Papa must never be left alone,” Judah reminded them. “Two of us must accompany him at all times, studying or praying.”

“On my travels, a scholar of the secret Torah taught me that each of the psalms has a protective purpose,” Eliezer said as everyone turned to him expectantly. “Obviously whoever is guarding Salomon must pray the Ninety-first Psalm against demons, but as I recall, the Third and Thirteenth Psalms are used specifically to drive them out. Isn’t that right, Rachel?”

Rachel, tears streaming down her cheeks, could only nod.
The demons must want Papa to die without finishing his kuntres.

To counteract that possibility, she immediately recited the Third Psalm, which was also effective against headaches.

Meir put on his cloak. “I’ll bring a Torah scroll from the synagogue.”

“You said I was too young to fast when Mama was ill,” Shmuel said. “But nobody will prevent me from fasting from meat for Grandpapa, even in Paris.”

Joheved gave her son a hug. “There will be no meat at this table, except on Shabbat, until Papa can eat it with us.”

Rachel had acted as mistress of Salomon’s household since Rivka died, but she was too distressed by a new thought to challenge her older sister usurping the role.
What if Papa’s death is the evil event the lunar eclipse portended for the Jews?
Terrified, she switched to the Thirteenth Psalm, which more accurately reflected her mind.

She’d gone to Sepharad when Mama was ill, and Mama had died. Rachel’s heart froze as she recalled her mother’s deathbed wish—for her to take good care of Papa. As much as Rachel trusted in the Almighty’s faithfulness, as much as she longed to be with Eliezer in Toledo, she could not, would not, leave Papa’s side until he recovered completely.

She could feel Eliezer staring at her, and when their eyes met, she knew he’d come to the same unhappy conclusion.

Part Three

twenty-three

Toledo, Sepharad
Spring 4859 (1099 C.E.)

 

The gentle spring breeze should have been a warm caress, but Eliezer shivered as he cradled Rachel’s two letters in his hands. It had been over three months since he’d seen her.
Which one did she write last?

He never thought he’d be grateful for Pope Urban stirring up pilgrimage fervor among the faithful. But with war blocking the route to Jerusalem, while the false pope Clement’s supporters fought Urban’s in Rome, Santiago de Compostela in Galicia was now the pilgrims’ destination of choice.

Eliezer’s journeys to and from Sepharad had grown safer with the increased traffic. He also appreciated the mail that pilgrims brought to Toledo as they stopped by to admire the magnificent cathedral King Alfonso had built from a mosque. A letter usually came from Rachel before Pâques, a popular time for pilgrims, and sometimes another in late May. But today two letters were waiting at the synagogue for him.

Eliezer gaped at them, dreading the bad news that would have forced Rachel to write twice in such a short time. One was less travel worn than the other, and, guessing it was written more recently, Eliezer ran his knife under the seal.

“Dearest husband, do not worry,” it began, filling Eliezer with trepidation. “I am in Paris for Yom Tov’s wedding. A traveler is going to Toledo, and I hurry to write this before he leaves. Papa’s health is much improved, enabling us to spend Passover here with Judah’s family. Perhaps this demon was less powerful than the one who attacked Papa two years ago or the new mezuzah provides better protection, but Papa’s speech recovered faster this time. His right hand remains weak, so Simcha and I write his responsa for him. His
kuntres
he dictates to Judah and Miriam, while Meir and Shemayah manage the yeshiva.”

Eliezer scanned the page, but there was nothing else of importance. Rachel had investigated the Parisian woolen markets and found that Troyes indeed boasted the finest cloth. The letter ended with hopes that their business was prospering, Eliezer was well, and that she would soon see his beloved face again.

Eliezer sighed. How he longed to behold her beloved face, and the rest of her body as well. He opened the second letter, which had been written months before the first.

“Dearest husband, I write with trembling hand and heavy heart. As last month’s lunar eclipse portended, Papa was attacked by another demon, or perhaps the same one, for his symptoms are similar. He has lost all progress he made in regaining his speech, and he cannot move his right arm or leg. But after witnessing his earlier miraculous recovery, we pray that his health and strength will return. May the Holy One heal and protect him. As for the heretic who gave Papa the Evil Eye, may his bones be ground by millstones.”

Here the writing began again with a different quill, for the new letters were slightly smaller. “There are few travelers this early in the season, so I have waited in hopes of giving you better news of Papa’s health. But there is as yet little improvement. I despair that he will be unable to attend Yom Tov’s wedding in Paris after Purim, even if we wait until the lambing is finished in Ramerupt to travel with Joheved’s family.”

Eliezer wrinkled his brow. What was this about a heretic bringing trouble down on Salomon? Hadn’t he always gotten on well with the Edomites? Eliezer would have to wait to find out. As for Rachel’s conviction that the recent lunar eclipse foretold a threat to her father, Eliezer felt sure the future catastrophe would take place in Eretz Israel. Thus far the Frankish knights, too quarrelsome to unite under one leader, had gotten bogged down besieging Antioch. Unfortunately Eliezer had seen enough of the Levant to know that the Turks, Fatimids, and local Saracens would each stand back and expect the other to battle the pilgrim army. Thus Jerusalem would fall to Edom, a certain disaster for the Jews.