Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (18 page)

Among the men, Rava was first assaulted good-naturedly by Mari, then by my brother Nachman and Abaye’s son, Bibi. He bore it all with patience, until Father finally took his arm and they sat down together. But not everyone was cheering. My heart broke to see that my son, Chama, had not celebrated at all, and indeed looked as though he were going to cry.

 • • • 

After the meal, Father had to return to court with his students and Nachman. Before they left, he called Rava and me to walk with him. “We don’t have much time, so I would like Mari to begin betrothal negotiations on my behalf.”

“I would gladly have Mari represent me,” I said.

Father addressed Rava. “Rabbah bar Huna and Rav Hamnuna will be at court this afternoon. Which would you prefer?”

“I would prefer my poverty not be so widely known,” Rava said bluntly. “I am confident I can represent myself.”

“As sharp as you are, you should still have another negotiator at your side.” Father’s voice was resolute.

Rava shrugged. “Then I choose your son Nachman. He has a reputation as a fair judge.”

“Very well, Nachman and I will join your talks tonight.” Father put his arm around Rava’s shoulders before leaving. “I would be pleased if you would share some Torah with my students tomorrow morning.”

“I look forward to it,” Rava replied.

Rava and I were left alone in the
traklin
while a slave went to fetch Mari. I stared at him in quiet amazement. How everything between us had changed in just a few short hours.

“I want you to know one thing before we start.” Rava’s expression was earnest. “You have reason to distrust me, but I promise that I will never lie to you, nor will I attempt to mislead you. And I ask you to do the same for me.”

“I don’t know. I mean, Em has secret potion formulas, and I promised Homa I wouldn’t reveal the truth about how her husband died.” And about Chatoi being pregnant before the wedding. These were just a few things I might need to hide.

He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to share everything with me. I understand that
charasheta
have their secrets, just as I may not reveal what I’ve learned from Rav Oshaiya,” he said. “If I ask a question you don’t want to answer, just say so. But please do not lie to me.”

“In turn, you must agree not to get angry when I decline to answer.”

“I am still struggling to learn to control my
yetzer hara,
but I will try.”

There was a soft cough from the door, and Mari asked, “Shall we begin or should I return later?”

We beckoned Mari to join us. Like Tachlifa, he had Father’s nose and thick hair. But instead of having Father’s square jaw, his face was oval like Mother’s and mine.

“Let me start by stipulating that I will make no claims on my wife’s property, just as Rav Hisda agreed to receive no benefit from the property his wife brought to their marriage,” Rava said. “I hope she will receive a generous dowry because, as she knows, I do not have sufficient income to support us. My own lands are mortgaged and their produce goes to the lender.”

“The produce from my lands will go to support us,” I said.

“But Grandfather vowed that your husband should have no benefit from those lands,” Mari protested.

“So I won’t use Grandfather’s produce for him. I’ll use my
charasheta
income,” I retorted. “I am not going to dress in silks and eat meat while my husband goes hungry and wears rags.”

“How much property do you have?” Rava asked.

I hesitated before replying, “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to tell him about the mortgages, not yet.

He scowled, and I knew he thought I wasn’t telling the truth. But Mari came to my rescue.

“Dada has no idea how much property she has or what her income is,” he answered for me. “I don’t think anyone does.”

Rava looked skeptical. “How is that possible?”

“Nobody has been incompetent,” I reassured Rava. “Mari has managed my lands since I was a girl, and our brother Tachlifa invested some of my money in his business. Each keeps his own records.”

“Do you intend to continue this arrangement after we’re married?” Rava sounded more curious than disapproving.

“Tachlifa has already chided me for not taking more of an interest in my share of his business,” I admitted. “He insisted on explaining everything to me when he returns.”

“And I would like you to become more knowledgeable about the lands I manage and the produce they generate,” Mari added.

“I have been so inept at managing my own property that it is just as well that I don’t manage hers,” Rava said.

“Of course her dowry will include the customary four female slaves,” Mari said. “But in addition there will be a capable, experienced, and trustworthy steward.”

Rava turned to me. “No matter how trustworthy this steward starts out, it would be placing a stumbling block before the blind if he knows that no one is checking his accounting.”

I nodded. “I will make certain that by the time we are married, I understand where all my income comes from and how it is spent.” Somehow in the next few months I would have to become adept in mathematics.

But I needed to talk to Chama sooner.

 • • • 

At the evening meal, Mother chortled with satisfaction when I asked my sister-in-law Mariamme to teach me how she kept the family accounts. Mother then questioned me about my studies.

“Em is an excellent teacher,” I began. I briefly described the various potions she had taught me how to make, and by the time I got to
kos ikarin
I was surrounded by enthralled faces.

Mother nodded in approval. “I understand that
kos ikarin
is particularly difficult to prepare.”

I explained how my expertise in beer had served me well.

“Em says you have been very useful at expelling demons from birthing chambers,” she said. “Even the most difficult cases don’t faze you.”

I wasn’t about to admit how much they did disturb me. “Helping a woman in childbirth is a most rewarding experience,” I lied.

Mother’s eyes narrowed but she said nothing.

“What incantation bowls have you installed there?” Rahel asked.

That got everyone’s attention. So I told them about ending Issi’s bad dreams, healing children who became ill after not washing their hands, and protecting pregnant women. Of course, they were most interested in the love spell I’d cast and made me relate the story in great detail.

By the time I finished, Mother was beaming.

Once on the subject of love, my sisters-in-law couldn’t resist teasing me about the sudden resolution of my romance with Rava. Soon they were good-naturedly debating the wisdom of marrying such a poor man, even if he was the most brilliant rabbi of his generation.

To my embarrassment, Pazi asked if he kissed well.

“I don’t know,” I lied again. This time Mother looked at me askance.

“You should find out before you’re actually betrothed,” Pazi insisted. This got the women arguing once more.

“But he’s leaving for Machoza at the end of Shabbat,” I said.

Pazi turned to her twin, Tazi. “Rava should come with us on Father’s boat.”

“Good idea,” Tazi replied.

“What boat? What are you two talking about?” I asked.

“Samuel wrote that he and Tachlifa will be back early,” Tazi explained. “Our father is sending one of his ships for us, so we can travel directly to Machoza.”

I nodded in agreement. Not only would Rava get home quickly, but it wouldn’t cost him anything.

 • • • 

When we met with Father and Nachman, we agreed that before the betrothal ceremony I would provide a list of my properties and the income they produced, with each identified as to whether Rava was entitled to its produce. He would do the same, despite all the mortgages. There would be no hidden properties.

“When shall we have the betrothal banquet?” Father asked. There was no doubt that he would host it, not Rava.

“I need to stay in Machoza through Rosh Hashana, and if the divorce takes longer, I will send word,” Rava replied. “But I would like to be betrothed before Sukkot.”

“Then we can celebrate all week.” Nachman smiled and punched Mari’s shoulder. Sukkot was the seven-day biblical festival when Israelites were commanded to dwell in a sukkah, a temporary structure that commemorated their forty years in the wilderness before entering the Promised Land.

“We must serve wine as well as beer,” I said firmly.

Mari gave me a knowing look. “As it happens, I have business in Machoza. I will accompany Rava, and he can help me choose some wine for the feast.”

“You can travel together on Gidel’s—that is, Pazi’s father’s ship,” I said, describing her offer. Now Mari would be present to ensure that Rava’s divorce proceeded as planned.

“If we hold the betrothal the day before Sukkot, the wedding can take place thirty days later, in mid-Cheshvan.”

“No,” Rava and I exclaimed together.

“I will be
niddah
in mid-Cheshvan,” I explained.

“We will wed in Tevet, at the end of Hanukah,” Rava declared. “The nights are longest then.”

Mari and Nachman burst out laughing, and even Father chuckled. Rava instantly realized what his words had implied and his face flamed.

“That’s not what he means,” I scolded them. “Em took me to a Chaldean who told me that the years of my husband’s life would be proportional to the length of our wedding night.” I paused to fight back tears. “That’s why Rami died young, because we married in Sivan.”

Father put his arm around me. “I’m sorry. Of course you should marry in Tevet.”

“It will give Dada more time to learn to manage a family’s finances,” Mari said, probably hoping to lighten the mood.

Rava said what I wanted to hear. “I think we’ve settled nearly everything, so if you don’t mind, I’d like some time alone with my bride.”

 • • • 

We climbed to the roof and stood behind the dovecote, far from where the students and slaves would be sleeping on this sweltering night. Rosh Hodesh was only a few days away, and the slim crescent moon had set long ago. The sky was brilliant with stars, and every so often a shooting star blazed briefly. To think that only this morning I was standing up here anxiously waiting to see if Rava would arrive or not.

I took his hand and savored how warm and strong it felt. “There’s a question I’ve wanted to ask you all day.”

“And I have one as well, but you go first.”

“What are you going to tell Abaye?”

Rava stroked his beard in thought. “I will apologize for failing him. Not only was I unable to convince you to marry him, but you persuaded me to marry you instead.”

“You should write to him before you leave, so he and Em can come to our betrothal banquet.” I doubted Abaye would see Rava as having failed, however.

“I will send it tomorrow . . . even if it frees him to start wooing Homa again.”

“So what is your question?”

He looked into my eyes. “If you knew you wanted to marry me while we were in Pumbedita, why didn’t you tell me?”

“But I did . . . twice,” I replied. “The first time was when you accused me of having cast a love spell on you, and I argued back that you had used the one from
Sepher ha-Razim
on me.”

He was silent only a few moments before saying, “Which implied that your heart was bound to mine. Evidently I was too upset at the time to think properly.”

“The second time you were too drunk.” I explained about his coming to my room on Purim, concluding, “Although it could have been a dream.”

“If it was, then I had a similar dream that night,” he admitted. “But I was certain I had dreamt it.”

So he did remember it. He really had been in my room. I looked up at him and prepared to teach him some proper kissing. But we were no longer alone. I could hear bedding being laid down and murmurs of drowsy people. Soon the roof would be a maze of sleeping forms that we would have to navigate. I didn’t want to leave, but my eyes were having difficulty staying open.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” I asked. Surely he had traveled all night to get here this morning.

“I see that you are.” He began leading me toward the stairs. “As tired as I am, I’m more afraid I’ll wake up in the morning in Pumbedita, or worse, on the boat to Machoza.”

“I assure you. This is no dream,” I whispered, pulling him close.

We held each other for some time, until he slowly backed away. “Then I had better start working on what I’m going to teach your father’s students in the morning.”

 • • • 

It was full sunlight when I woke, so I dressed hurriedly and then bolted downstairs. There he was, deep in discussion with Father and Nachman. I slowed to a more sedate pace, hesitating only when I saw his wet hair.

I was determined not to embarrass him by alluding in any way to his morning immersion, so I merely smiled. “I am very glad to see you here this morning.”

He actually smiled back. “And I am very glad to be here.”

I went to take my place with the women, and no sooner did I sit down than Pazi giggled and whispered, “Rava must have dreamed that you were married already.”

My other sisters-in-law were still chortling at this when Rahel leaned closer to add, “Mari said that Rava told them he wanted to marry in Tevet, when the nights are longest.”

This sent them into gales of laughter, and, blushing, I explained about my horoscope.

“What’s this about you consulting a Chaldean?” Mother demanded, suddenly coming in from the kitchen.

The effect of Mother’s appearance was immediate, as the giddy women grew serious and turned to me with rapt attention. This time I wasn’t surprised by Mother’s abrupt appearance.

“He warned me not to share my horoscope widely, to avoid provoking the Evil Eye,” I answered. This only made everyone more curious.

Mother surveyed their eager expressions and made her decision. “I doubt anyone here would give you the Evil Eye but, nevertheless, share only a few of the good predictions and be sure to include some bad ones. You and I will have a fuller discussion later . . . in private.”

Though disappointed, my sisters-in-law accepted Mother’s verdict without protest. So I talked about enjoying successful pregnancies and easy labors, explained that I would have at least five sons but only two husbands, the latter of whom would survive me. Unfortunately some of my children would die before me. These last two prophecies should help avert the Evil Eye.