Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel

by Anton, Maggie

  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 t
he 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.”

  This is how Elizabeth the Midwife became half owner of the new cow. When the animal did eventually give birth to a bull calf, she gladly sold her share in the mother back to Salomon in exchange for the offspring. Owning their own cow brought a new benefit to Salomon’s household. Besides fresh milk for the children at breakfast, Anna used the afternoon milking to make a sweet creamy cheese that tasted wonderful on freshly baked bread. Plus the cow’s dung was excellent for the garden.

  Though Eliezer had assured her that he was content with their two children, Rachel, whenever she saw Anna milking the cow or Joheved feeding little Jacob, named for Meir’s grandfather, thought longingly of the comfort she’d received from nursing little Rivka again after baby Asher died. Surely she’d have gotten pregnant by now if she were able. But if she were barren, she’d have to appreciate the children she had.

  Past her first taste of Torah study, Rivka now eagerly pestered everyone in the family with questions, especially her older brother, Shemiah. Sometimes he showed off his knowledge with erudite answers, especially when Rachel or Eliezer were present. But usually he ignored her, preferring to discuss Mishnah with Shimson. Rachel tried not to intervene in her children’s squabbles and gave thanks that, even if they didn’t have siblings of the same gender, their cousins provided plenty of companionship.

  Despite endless speculation over the shooting stars’ meaning, one forecast that did come true in the next six months had nothing to do with the heavens. As Guy predicted, Pope Urban presided over a Church council at Clermont that fall, during the third week of November. But Troyes’ attention was focused elsewhere. In the middle of the Cold Fair, on November 28, Count Hugues married Princess Constance of France with all the pomp a royal wedding demanded. His daughter’s marriage was exactly the excuse King Philip needed to ignore events in Clermont, where, since he’d made no effort to separate from Bertrade, the pope reaffirmed his excommunication.

  The first warning Salomon’s household received about other events in Clermont came from Guy when he unexpectedly joined them for souper during the final week of the Cold Fair.

  “Eliezer.” Guy’s ominous tone chilled Rachel’s heart. “I urge you in the strongest terms to delay your departure from Troyes.”

  Everyone within hearing turned to Guy as Eliezer asked, “Why? What happened?”

  “His last day at Clermont, standing in an open field before nobility and clerics, Pope Urban gave an extraordinary speech.” Guy fell silent, his expression full of wonder. “First he chastised the knights for breaking the Truce of God by wantonly attacking pilgrims, clerics, women, and merchants. He accused them of waging unjust wars on each other, to their mutual destruction, for no other reason than covetousness and pride, and said they were deserving of eternal damnation.”

  Rachel stared at Guy with curiosity. The pope had long rebuked men of arms for such crimes, but Guy’s awed voice showed that something new was involved. “Then he began speaking of Jerusalem, the navel of the world, of how the accursed Turks invaded her confines and depopulated them by sword, pillage, and fire. He described how her holy altars were destroyed and Christians subjected to unspeakable degradation and servitude. He urged the knights, most valiant soldiers and descendants of invincible ancestors, to be not degenerate, but to recall the valor of their progenitors.”

  “What did he want from them?” Salomon asked, his voice heavy with dread.

  “To let their quarrels and wars cease as they entered upon the road to the Holy Sepulchre, to wrest the Holy Land from that wicked race of infidels and make it subject to them,” Guy replied. “Pope Urban further proclaimed that they should not let their possessions, nor solicitude for their families, keep them from undertaking this holy pilgrimage, for which they would receive remission of their sins and assurance of the Kingdom of Heaven’s glory.”

  Guy shook his head in amazement. “With that, the crowd cried out as one, ‘It is God’s will! It is God’s will!’ The pope then told those who would undertake this holy war to sew crosses on their chests for all to see, and within moments men began tearing at their clothes to produce crosses.”

  “That was a month ago,” Eliezer said. “What has happened since?”

  “The pope has been preaching throughout France, staying clear of the king’s lands while Philip remains excommunicated. In addition, itinerant preachers have appeared, attracting flocks of pilgrims as well as bands of less-innocent folk.”

  “But you said the pope’s appeal was to knights.” Meir wondered which, if any, of Count André of Ramerupt’s men would participate.

  “That was Pope Urban’s intent, but the enterprise has spiraled out of his hands, so that we now see poor townsfolk and villeins selling their possessions to provision themselves for the journey. My uncle is besieged by men, and women, asking for their bishop’s blessing.”

  Joheved exchanged anxious glances with Meir. “I hope these preachers don’t seduce too many of our villeins to leave. The villagers know nothing of warfare; they would never survive.”

  “The pope has promised eternal salvation to those who die on pilgrimage,” Guy said. “And as further inducement, whoever undertakes this holy war is exempt from repayment of debts.”

  “Their debts are discharged?” Rachel asked with dismay, thinking of the women who owed her money.

  “For the duration of their pilgrimage, oui,” Guy said. “And more than that: those vowed to retake Jerusalem may substitute the journey for all penance.”

  “So all kinds of scoundrels will join them,” Eliezer said, recognizing the danger such undisciplined mobs would pose.

  “The officially sanctioned group of knights and foot soldiers is to begin its journey in August, continuing to Constantinople, where it will meet up with Alexius’s troops,” Guy explained. “But these impatient preachers have urged their followers to start immediately, and I fear that thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of Frankish pilgrims will be heading in our direction.”

  “What will we do?” Miriam whispered in horror.

  “I believe I will delay my departure for Toledo until after these pilgrims have passed through Champagne into the east,” Eliezer declared.

  Rachel squeezed his hand under the table and sighed with relief. But along with the rest of h
er family, she could not find the appetite to finish souper.

  nineteen

  “How long before these pilgrims finally leave?” Eliezer pounded the table in frustration. “For months they’ve been milling around Troyes, living off our lands, terrifying the women and children. Let them go to Jerusalem already. I’ve had enough.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about them, so let’s just continue our Talmud discussion.” Judah was determined to force Eliezer to accept his interpretation of Tractate Kiddushin. The text was complicated and hopefully could distract them from their worries. “You cannot derive a woman’s obligation to eat matzah at Passover from the law in Deuteronomy that obligates her to assemble every year to hear the king read the Torah. Therefore women should be exempt from time-bound positive mitzvot.”

  Eliezer refused to capitulate. “I say a woman’s obligation to assemble is derived from her obligation to eat matzah.” He turned Judah’s argument around. “For without the verses about matzah, we would say that a boy’s obligation is stronger than a woman’s, since he will eventually grow to perform the mitzvah. Yet a woman is commanded to eat matzah while a child is not.”

  “Then you agree with me. Since women are obligated to eat matzah while children are not, then if minors must attend the assembly, surely a woman, who is treated more strictly, must do so as well,” Judah said. “But even so, these two mitzvot don’t teach that women are commanded to perform the other time-bound positive mitzvot.”

  Eliezer sighed with exasperation. “While they certainly show that women are not exempt from them, at the moment I cannot think of a better argument.”

  Judah looked at his study partner with alarm. For Eliezer to acquiesce so easily was proof of how stressful life was for the Jews of Troyes. “I admit that I also cannot think of another refutation.” Even Talmud study couldn’t divert their minds from the threat outside the city walls.