Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (33 page)

BOOK: Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel
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“Urban has given Philip six months to rid himself of Bertrade, and if the king does so, his excommunication will be lifted at Clermont. Also, ambassadors from Emperor Alexius want Urban’s help in fighting the Turks who threaten Byzantium.”
“If the pope can persuade some of our rapacious barons to exchange local battlefields for those in the east, he would do both France and Alexius a service.” Yet Rachel doubted that even the pope could make this happen.
“Perhaps that will be the great event those shooting stars portend.”
“You’re an optimist, Guy. Most fear a catastrophe.”
“Let people think what they will, but I recall that the birth of our Savior was heralded by a bright new star.” Guy turned to grin at Rachel. “Maybe one of the meteors is for your family: a great scholar to be born here.”
Rachel frowned. “I know you’re joking, but even a jest might bring the Evil Eye on my family.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” He headed for the cellar door. “Is there any particular psalm you want me to start with? Or should I commence with the first one?”
“Pick your favorites, and we’ll begin with those.”
While it was reassuring to believe that Joheved and Meir’s baby might be a great scholar the meteors heralded, most Jews would pessimistically agree that such a massive shower of shooting stars could only forebode disaster. Rachel was sure of one thing however: Eliezer was studying with Sepharad’s finest astronomers, more learned than the great Shmuel of Nehardea, and if they understood the meaning, he would tell her.
 
Joheved calculated that her baby was due in mid-June, but Miriam took no chances and insisted her older sister move to Troyes early in the month. This turned out to be a wise decision, as less than a week elapsed before Joheved gave birth to her sixth child, a fourth son. Despite her advanced age, she did so with less pain and bleeding than while bearing her previous children.
Rachel couldn’t help but remember poor Milo, who would be desperately anxious for news of Joheved’s health. “The weather is so fine today that I think I’ll ride to Ramerupt,” she told her sister. “I’d like to see how the new lambs’ wool compares to last year’s.”
Joheved understood her concern. “
Merci
. Then Milo will be able to concentrate on supervising the sheep shearing.”
“Don’t worry if I’m not back until sunset. I don’t expect Eliezer just yet, but since my clean days are finished, I may as well immerse in that nice pond you have.”
“It’s too bad it’s so far to ride.” Joheved paused to expertly rouse her sleepy newborn and shift him to her other breast. “I’d rather immerse there when my seven days of childbirth impurity are finished.”
“At least it’s warm enough to use the Seine,” Rachel said. “Miriam and I can show you some quiet streams nearby, not as nice as in Ramerupt, but fine nevertheless.”
Despite the many
mazikim
reputed to dwell in rivers, and cognizant that no demon could endure the pure water of the synagogue’s
mikvah
, Rachel, her sisters, and indeed most of the Jewish women of Troyes still preferred to perform their first immersion after childbirth upstream from town. Luckily most tended to give birth when the weather was warm.
Rachel set out immediately after
disner
, and as she rode through the forest, she couldn’t decide whether she should deliver the good news immediately or tease Milo by asking about the sheep first and only later announce Joheved’s new son. She still hadn’t made up her mind when she heard the sound of approaching horses.
Milo had ridden out to meet her, and before she could speak, he called out, “What news do you bring of my lady Joheved?”
She had no choice but to reply, “Just this morning my sister was safely delivered of another son—may the Holy One protect them both.”
The joyous relief on Milo’s face made Rachel ashamed that she had thought to delay telling him. But he quickly recovered his equanimity and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like some refreshments?”
“Not right now,” she replied. “If possible I would like to see the wool that the new lambs produced.”
“The sheep are being sheared as we speak, and I would be pleased to show you our different grades of wool.” He blushed slightly with pride. “You can see for yourself the superiority of the wool we got from the new rams’ offspring.”
He wheeled his horse around and led her to a field where the stream had been dammed to create a large, shallow pool, now full of unhappy sheep. At the water’s edge, women rubbed the sheep well with the greasy brown soft soap that Joheved’s estate made every winter from ashes and rendered fat. Then they forced the sheep into the stream, where the men were waiting.
There the men rinsed out the dirty suds while pushing the sheep toward the deeper water, forcing the animals to swim to the other side. Slowly the clean sheep dried in the sun, looking to Rachel like a field of giant dandelion puffs. One by one they were led to the shearers, who made quick work of separating them from their wool. It was a noisy enterprise, what with sheep bleating and workers yelling to each other.
“It takes more time to wash the sheep first,” Milo shouted to be heard over the din. “But a clean fleece brings a better price than a dirty one.”
They rode to a shed piled high with rolls of fleeces. Rachel examined the various grades, where despite her inexperience, the difference between wool of this and last year’s lambs was clear.
“I’ve marked the females that each ram sired, so I can ensure that they are not bred to their fathers,” he said.
She nodded. “Milo, this is truly wonderful. Next year we can expect even finer quality.”
Rachel watched the sheep shearing a while longer—the process was almost hypnotic, until a bead of sweat trickling down her face reminded her that she still wanted to immerse. She asked Joheved’s maidservant to lead her to the place and keep guard while she bathed. By the time they reached the secluded pool with its soft mossy bank, Rachel was perspiring heavily, and she waited only until the girl moved out of sight before doffing her clothes and wading into the water.
“Aah.” She sighed with contentment after her first immersion. Joheved had found the perfect location.
She paddled around the pond to prove to herself that she still remembered how to swim, and then immersed for the second time. When she came up, she floated on her back, listening to the birds while gazing at the patterns the leafy branches made against the sky.
Suddenly the birds went silent, and Rachel had the feeling that someone was watching her. Covering her breasts with her arms, she stood up and listened attentively, but there was no sound or movement. Still she waited a few cautious moments before performing her final immersion.
She had just surfaced and was shaking the water from her curls when the pond erupted with a loud splash. Somebody had jumped in with her—and that somebody was a man.
Panicked, she backed away as rapidly as she could, at the same time calling for the maidservant. But the man was faster as he reached out to grab her hand. She splashed and struggled but he was too strong for her, pulling her around to face him.
Eliezer!
“Wha . . . What are you doing here?” She stammered in surprise. She didn’t know which she wanted to do more, hit him or kiss him. “I nearly died of fright.”
He closed the distance between them and cradled her in his arms. “I couldn’t wait to see you. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You certainly did.” She splashed water at him.
“A pleasant surprise, I hope.”
When he grinned at her like that, Rachel couldn’t help but smile back. “Most definitely.” She pulled his head down and kissed him.
Despite the cool water, Rachel could feel his heat against her, and the passion of his embrace quickly evoked an equal response. She clung to him as his hands caressed her breasts and then moved down between her thighs. Soon they were racing to the water’s edge where they sank down into the velvety moss.
Later Rachel pulled herself up on an elbow and lovingly surveyed her husband dozing beside her. She had never seen Eliezer naked in the daytime. She admired his body, so shapely and well fleshed; his legs in particular were nicely formed. Was it her imagination or was there more hair on his chest than when they married? Rachel reached out her hand to stroke the soft down and then hesitated. He’d probably ridden long and hard today, she reminded herself, and decided to let him rest a while longer.
Was it like this for Adam and Eve in Gan Eden? she wondered, as she watched the clouds float by and listened to the birds’ renewed songs. Eliezer stirred and she looked down to find him smiling.
“How long were you watching me?” Rachel demanded.
“I got here shortly after you did. The maid recognized me and agreed not to warn you.” His grin widened. “It was all I could do to keep from jumping in earlier: you were so tempting.”
“Did you see all those
zikim
just after Passover? For almost a week our skies were ablaze with them.”
“We saw some for a couple of nights, but nothing extraordinary.”
“You’re studying astronomy,” she accused him. “What does it mean to have so many shooting stars like that?”
“Unlike eclipses and movement of the planets, we cannot predict
zikim.
” He was about to say that consequently no one can determine what they forebode, but Rachel looked so disappointed that he replied instead, “But surely they portend something momentous, although for good or evil we don’t know.”
She thought of the Normans conquering Angleterre. “Perhaps good for some and evil for others.”
“Exactly.”
Eliezer was clearly in a fine mood, and their surroundings encouraged intimacy, so Rachel dared ask him about a subject that was increasingly bothering her. “Would you be disappointed if I can’t have more children?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all. I’ve fulfilled the mitzvah of procreation with Shemiah and Rivka.”
“You’re sure?” “You don’t envy Meir?”
“Joheved almost died from childbirth.” His voice became serious. “And look at poor Simcha, his son Samuel, and countless other widowed men.” He tilted up her chin and locked eyes with her. “I will never suffer that tragedy.”
His expression was so sincere that Rachel was quite unable to speak. But lying outdoors, naked together, it was impossible to stay sad. Eliezer lazily ran his hand along her torso.
“I will also never cease to appreciate your beauty, because repeated pregnancies won’t mar it.” And he proceeded to appreciate her beauty with more than just his eyes.
 
Miriam’s joy at Joheved’s easy labor was followed by her relief at performing the boy’s brit milah well before the community was overrun with foreign merchants. She was contentedly weeding her herb garden when a small boy hesitantly entered the courtyard leading a pregnant cow on a rope.
“Is this the home of Salomon the Scholar?” he asked her.

Oui
, I’m his daughter.” Miriam looked back and forth from the cow to the boy, wondering what he could possibly want with Papa. “He’s in the vineyard right now; can I help you?”
“This cow is a gift of thanks from Guy de Dampierre, for all the help Master Salomon’s family has given him.”
Anna, who had poked her head out the kitchen door when the gate slammed shut, walked out to join them. “A cow for Master Salomon?”
When Miriam and the boy nodded, her face lit up. “I used to be a milkmaid when I was a girl in Romania.” Anna pulled up a clump of grass and offered it to the animal. “I would be happy to take charge of this one.”
Thus, soon after, it was Anna who innocently alerted Salomon to his imminent problem. “This cow doesn’t have any milk yet,” she informed the household. Observing their disappointment and suspicion, she added, “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s young and pregnant for the first time. Guy has given you a doubly valuable gift: a cow and a calf.”
“This cow has never been pregnant before?” Salomon’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
“I believe so, but we can ask the cowherd.”
When the boy confirmed Anna’s statement, Salomon’s face clouded and he began to stroke his beard.
“The problem is that, according to the Torah, all firstborn males are consecrated to the Creator,” Miriam explained. “But since we can’t sacrifice firstborn male animals at the Temple anymore, they must be destroyed.”
Rachel turned to Meir. “You must have this problem every year with some of the lambs. Do you just kill them?”
Meir shook his head. “We sell Milo a share of every ewe that’s pregnant for the first time. Not being Jewish, he’s not subject to the law of firstlings. When we sell the male lambs among them, he receives a share of the price.”
“I could also sell a share of the cow herself,” Salomon said. “Because if a non-Jew owns any part of the mother, the male firstling is not consecrated.”

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