The Harem Midwife (18 page)

“And you?” He nodded at Grazia.

“Alas, I cannot wait for Isaac to pay me. I must return to Rome.”

“And what is so important in Rome?”

Grazia blushed. “I wish to remarry.”

This was the first Hannah had heard of such a plan. True, life was for the living, and Jewish law frowned on a long period of mourning, but still, wasn’t it too soon? Had Isaac known of a remarriage? She looked at him but could tell nothing from the stern expression on his face.

The Rabbi rose to his feet, extracted a book from a pile on the table. “All of you think this is a simple matter of debt and repayment? That all you need do is keep Grazia as a guest until her debt is satisfied? There is something of which you are ignorant.” He leafed through the book until he found the page he wanted.

“Yes,” he said, “this is from Deuteronomy. I will simplify for the sake of the women.” He cleared his throat. “When a man dies, leaving a widow, it is the duty of the deceased man’s brother to ‘go into the widow,’ and perform the duty of a husband. And if a son is born to her, then the child shall be named after the deceased brother.” The Rabbi took a deep breath. “You have heard the Latin word ‘
levir
’?”

Hannah tried to concentrate on the Rabbi’s words but they made no sense.

“Meaning brother-in-law?” Isaac asked.

The Rabbi nodded. “The law of levirate marriage states that a brother-in-law is married to his brother’s widow, if the brother dies without heirs.” He turned to Grazia. “Since you and Leon had no children, this means, Isaac, in the eyes of the law, you and Grazia are husband and wife.”

Hannah felt as shocked as she had felt when years ago a rabbi in Venice had told her Isaac had been taken as a slave in Malta.

“But that is an ancient tradition from biblical times. Jews no longer practise this custom,” said Isaac.

“All that remains to legitimize this union is consummation.” The Rabbi spoke as matter-of-factly as if he were telling them the price of a barrel of pickled herring or a measure of lamb suet. “You may, of course, choose to have a wedding ceremony, but it is not required by law.”

Hannah tried to speak but it took her a few moments to form the words. “But Isaac is married to me!”

The Rabbi ignored her and said to Isaac, “The law is for the protection of the widow.”

“So I am married to
both
Hannah and Grazia?” Isaac asked, incredulous.

Hannah glanced at Grazia. At first the woman wore a look of shock, and then another unreadable expression came over her face.

The Rabbi asked, “Is there anything in your marriage con tract with Hannah to prevent you from taking another wife?”

Isaac shook his head. “I married Hannah without a dowry, so there was no need for a
ketubah
.”

Isaac had taken her without so much as a feather bed to her name. If only he had not been forced to mention it now in front of the Rabbi.

The Rabbi raised an eyebrow. “You must have loved her very much.”

Isaac smiled for the first time since they had set foot in the Rabbi’s study. “I still do.”

How relieved Hannah felt, at least for the moment.
Perhaps when all of this was sorted out they could be as close as they once had been.

Grazia spoke. “This law is for my protection?”

“Can’t you see?” Hannah said. “With this law, you go from one husband to the next, passed from hand to hand like a platter of lamb around the Seder table at Passover.”

“Hannah,” said Isaac, a note of warning in his voice.

“I will not agree to this,” Hannah said, ignoring him. “I am Isaac’s rightful wife. How can Isaac have two wives? Muslims—yes, their religion permits four wives if they are rich enough to support them. But Jews—no.” She should not speak so. It was not a woman’s place, but she no longer cared.

The Rabbi should have been offended by her outburst, but when she looked up, there was a look of bemusement on his face. “Here in Constantinople, we follow the teachings of Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrahi of Saintly Seed, who allowed such unions, especially as in your case, Isaac”—the Rabbi looked pointedly at Hannah—“when the marriage is without children.” He stroked his beard. “In Constantinople a Jew can have more than one wife. Hannah, God has closed your womb. Because of you, Isaac has not been able to fulfill his obligation to go forth and multiply.”

“But that is—”
Not my fault
, Hannah was about to say.
I have gone to the hocas in the market, swallowed their potions and elixirs, rubbed strange mixtures on my stomach, and slept with magic amulets under my pillow
. She said none of this aloud.

“As I have explained, if Isaac has a son with Grazia, he will honour his dead brother’s memory by naming the boy after his deceased brother.”

The Rabbi talked in a kindly tone, as though speaking to a simpleton.. To bear a son was the crowning achievement of every woman’s life. The thought of Grazia bearing Isaac’s son made Hannah feel angry and ill.

“What kind of a law marries a man and a woman without their knowledge and then keeps them married against their will? Do the first wife’s wishes count for nothing?” Hannah rose to her feet.

Isaac put a hand on her arm and tugged her back into her chair.

“I apologize for my wife’s behaviour, Rabbi,” he said.

“Do not dare to apologize for me,” said Hannah. “I can tell an unfair law even if you and the Rabbi cannot. This is wickedness! If this is the law, then I spit on it!”

“Hannah, please control yourself,” Isaac said.

“My dowry is all I have in the world,” said Grazia. “I came in good faith, to meet with my brother- and sister-in-law, the only family I have except my stepson, Yehuda.” She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. “If the law says I am to become Isaac’s wife, I will obey.” Grazia spoke with a calm deliberation that Hannah admired and at the same time hated. “If I lay with Isaac and become his wife, will Hannah and I be equal before the law?” Grazia asked. “By which I mean, will we share his estate equally if he dies?”

“Yes, of course,” said the Rabbi.

This was happening too fast for Hannah to comprehend. Isaac’s lips on Grazia’s? His arms around her? Laying together? And how could this woman, this virtual stranger,
this convert, even mention, even contemplate the death of her beloved Isaac?

If this travesty of a marriage could occur, then so too could the coupling of Leah and the Sultan.

“It is up to Isaac to decide whether to accept his marriage to Grazia,” the Rabbi said. “If he repudiates her, then the law in its wisdom provides a remedy—the
halizah
, the ritual divorce. A distressing ceremony but a solution.”

Hannah had spoken too soon. She had let her anger get the better of her. Now she regretted it.

Everything was in Isaac’s hands.

Beads of sweat had formed on Isaac’s forehead. “Grazia, your money will be repaid. I have no intention of depriving you of your dowry. But I need time.”

The Rabbi turned to Grazia. “When did Leon die?”

“Four months ago.”

“The law provides that a levirate marriage takes effect three months from the date of death. However, I can, if you wish, order that the marriage be held in abeyance for another month. That will give you a month to pay back the dowry money. In the meantime—”

Isaac cut him off. “Rabbi, arrange the tribunal for the divorce. I will find her money.”

The Rabbi held up a finger. “Isaac,” he said, “do not be too hasty. Lay with this beautiful widow. Keep your silk business, keep her dowry.”

“No,” said Isaac.

A single word but said with such conviction. Hannah’s hands began to loosen their grip on each other.

“As you wish,” said the Rabbi. “If you cannot raise the money in a month, then there is nothing further I can do.”

Grazia looked both confident and resigned. Hannah had seen this look on the faces of men, never on the face of a woman.

“If I am to be cheated of my dowry, then at least I deserve a proper wedding ceremony.” Grazia took a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped her brow with it. “If you cannot repay me, Isaac, then I shall have a wedding dinner with baked fish and potatoes and a bridal dress of white
peau de soie
, with full sleeves and gussets of satin.” Her voice seemed to override the noise from the street outside: the cries of
Igde!
from the sherbet sellers, the birds overhead, and even the blows of hammer on stone from a stonecutter’s workshop next door.

Hannah willed some air into her lungs.

“And you,” said Grazia as she turned to Hannah, “perhaps you shall sew my wedding dress for me.”

THE VALIDE HAD
ordered Hannah to be present tonight and so she must be.

In Venice, delicate orchids from New Spain were pollinated with a slender bamboo reed and a steady hand. In North Afrika, the lustful stallions of the Arabs required calming stable companions when they serviced their mares—a placid ewe, for example, or a shaggy herding dog. So why should the joining together of Leah and the Sultan—a man who cared nothing for the niceties of human discourse, a man who might crush her under his weight—not require the same solicitous attention?

It was a sad irony that Hannah was being summoned to
witness the Sultan’s couching when she and Isaac had not so much as glanced at each other since the Rabbi’s order. You could drive a horse cart through the middle of our marriage bed, she thought.

Was it Hannah’s imagination or was Isaac casting covetous looks at Grazia? He had a month to raise the dowry money or Grazia would be his wife. Was he scrambling to find her money, or was he secretly pleased with the arrangement, watching calmly as Grazia cut out the pattern for her wedding dress—a dress Hannah had refused to have anything to do with.

Through her bedroom window, Hannah heard the rumble of the carriage on the cobblestones. She looked out as the Valide’s personal carriage with its lacquer burnished to a dazzling blaze of gold, drawn by the bay mare, driven by Suat, appeared in front of her house. The ostrich plumes on the mare’s head drooped in the summer heat; her sides were flecked with sweat. If only Hannah did not have to step into that carriage.

Hannah went to the
cassone
where she kept her best dress.
Please God
, she prayed,
help me to forge a truce with Isaac no matter how fragile. Let him believe that I am merely having tea with Mustafa and not witnessing Leah’s coupling
. Hannah had never before lied to Isaac, but their relationship was so fraught with tension, she could not bear to add more. A plan had come to her earlier that morning. She had gone to the apothecary’s and made a purchase, which rested in her linen bag next to a partridge egg.

She slipped on her dress and fastened her
ya
ş
mak
around
her face. Slinging her bag on her shoulder, she walked along the hall, past Matteo’s room. She peeked in, watching for a moment as he and Grazia played a game of noughts and crosses. She did not say goodbye to Isaac as she normally would, and he in turn did not see her out the door.

She climbed inside the carriage and off she went. A town crier had assembled a crowd on a street corner and was shouting out the latest comings and goings of the Sultan, the number of dead from plague and pestilence, and the arrival of the latest ships in port. Soon the carriage was gliding along the shore of Seraglio Point. It was sunset and the city never looked more beautiful than when the last rays of the sun played hide-and-seek with the waves of the Bosporus.

The carriage passed through the Imperial Gate guarded by Janissaries. The Example Stones flanked the gate, displaying the latest heads of executed subjects who had offended the Sultan. Hannah tried not to stare at the empty, gaping mouths with the bloody stumps where their tongues had been cut out. When the carriage came to a halt in the Second Courtyard, she alighted without waiting for Suat to help her down. Because she was well known to the eunuch guards at the entrance to the harem, she was admitted without difficulty.

Hannah entered the Harem and walked through the Romanesque arches leading to the baths. Sulphurous vapour filled the air. There were at least a hundred girls in various stages of undress, refreshing themselves with sweetmeats and sherbet or ladling perfumed water over each
other. Hannah had once been invited to enjoy herself in the hamam, scrubbed by a bath attendant and then immersed in the steaming pool. She now knew how it felt to be a potato boiling in a pot.

Near the pools, she noticed Mustafa. He wore a long, black shift over his large, formless torso and a white turban. He smiled and waved a greeting, wobbling toward her slowly, so as not to slip on the tile floor. He enveloped her in a moist embrace. It was rather like being hugged by a well-mannered, perfumed bear.

“Afterward, you will have a glass of tea with me and a gossip, I hope?”

Hannah knew she would want to flee the palace as soon as she could, but she appreciated the kindness of his offer. “I would be delighted.”

Mustafa’s golden quill glimmered against his white turban. Hannah followed him down the corridor to the Chamber of the Eunuchs, where he paused at the doorway. “What an honour for you. So few outside the palace are privileged to witness such an event. Allow me a moment to change my clothes and fetch my
Book of Couchings
.” Soon he was back at her side, with a heavy red volume tucked under his arm. When he noticed her glancing at it, he said, “Sadly, this is a book with many blank pages.”