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.
“Many are those who attack me . . .
But You, O Adonai, are a shield around me . . .
I lie down and sleep and wake again for Adonai sustains me
I have no fear of the myriad foes arrayed against me.”
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.
“How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Look at me, answer me, O Adonai, my God.
Restore the luster to my eyes lest I sleep the sleep of death . . . lest my foes exult when I fall.
Yet I trust in Your faithfulness,
My heart will exult in Your deliverance.”
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 Tole
do, 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.
Eliezer shook his head and went back to Rachel’s letter.
“Moses haCohen says that Papa is strong and should soon be better— may the Holy One protect him,” it continued. “Moses has also approached me about a match between Shemiah and his younger daughter, Glorietta. I have no objections, as Shemiah seems to fancy the girl, but the decision will wait until your return. In the meantime, I have allowed our children to travel to Paris with Miriam.
“Joheved is disappointed that Shmuel will stay there until summer to study with the monk Victor after Zipporah returns to Troyes. My sister hoped that Shmuel would give up his Edomite studies when Robert and Étienne founded their new abbey in Cîteaux last spring. I understand how a Talmud student might leave his wife at home, but I cannot fathom what Shmuel finds so interesting in the Edomite’s teachings or why Papa and Meir permit him to delay the mitzvah of procreation to study them. I also don’t understand why Meir allows his younger daughter to be betrothed before the elder, yet Samson ben Joseph, our old parnas’s grandson, will be marrying Leah, not Hannah.”
Rachel concluded by urging him pray the Third, Thirteenth, and Ninety-first Psalms against demons, with Papa in mind, and finally ended with prayers for his good health and success in business, and assurances of her eagerness to see him again.
Eliezer reread the two letters, his spirits sinking. For the last three years Rachel’s efforts to find a competent fuller had been fruitless, and each year Eliezer grew more hopeful that she would finally accept the necessity of their spending part of the year together in Troyes and part in Toledo.
But Rachel wouldn’t leave Troyes until Salomon recovered his health, and how likely was that after this recent setback? Yet Eliezer couldn’t imagine living without his wife: he missed her terribly for the six months they spent apart. Was there nothing he could do except wait until Salomon died?
As for Rachel’s complaint about Shmuel’s studies in Paris, Eliezer understood well the attraction of secular knowledge. It had taken four years, but he’d finally mastered Ptolemy and Aristotle sufficiently to understand how their systems of astronomy differed. Now, after so many observations and calculations, he was coming to agree with Abraham bar Hiyya that both ancient scholars might be wrong.
Aristotle, believing that creation must be as perfect as the Creator, declared that the cosmos consisted of a series of perfect spheres with the earth at its center, and that the sun, moon, fixed stars, and planets move at uniform speed around the motionless earth. Unlike Aristotle, Ptolemy painstakingly observed the motion of the heavens and thus determined that they did not follow Aristotle’s model.
Both agreed that fixed stars were firmly attached to their celestial sphere, which lay beyond that of Saturn, the furthermost planet. But Ptolemy postulated his own model for the planets’ movements. Loath to abandon Aristotle’s system of perfect circles and spheres, Ptolemy explained that each planet orbited a point on a small circle, called an epicycle, which in turn traveled in a large circle around the earth. The moon’s motion was more complicated, requiring a three-orb system.
Eliezer had a feeling there must be another, simpler explanation. While he admired Aristotle and Ptolemy’s vast erudition, he lacked the other astronomy students’ absolute belief in the ancient scholars’ pronouncements. He had the Talmud to thank for that skepticism, for in the ninth chapter of Tractate Pesachim there was a Baraita that taught:The learned of Israel say the sphere is fixed and the stars revolve; the learned of the nations say the sphere moves and the stars are fixed on it . . . Rav Acha bar Yaakov objected: Perhaps the spheres move [independently] like a door and lintel.
Eliezer had so many questions. What if both Rav Acha and the Sages were correct? What if stars and planets moved independently, each revolving in their own sphere? What kind of observations and calculations would he need to prove, or disprove, his idea? Every winter Eliezer arrived in Toledo determined that this year he’d discover the answers.
Yet without continual practice, mathematics and astronomy were soon lost. Each time Eliezer returned, he wasted precious weeks relearning material he’d previously understood before he could begin examining what Abraham had done in his absence. And only after meticulously checking Abraham’s work could Eliezer ascertain what to try next. Then finally, just when he felt on the verge of formulating a new description of how the planets and fixed stars moved, it was time to return to Troyes.
If only he didn’t have to spend so much time away. Pesach now dealt with Samson’s old trading partners so successfully that Eliezer didn’t need to travel to Prague or Kiev for furs anymore. Pesach liked to travel and preferred a merchant’s status to that of a vineyard worker; it would be easy for the youth to bring furs to Toledo and return with spices and dyes supplied by Eliezer. Shemiah was almost fifteen now and would soon be old enough to travel with Pesach. Eliezer had no doubt that his clever son would easily learn everything he knew and eventually take over his role entirely. Then Eliezer could devote his full attention to astronomy.
A lovely plan—except that Rachel wouldn’t leave Troyes.
“Excuse me, Eliezer.” The voice belonged to his host, Dunash. “Is there bad news from home?”
Eliezer realized that his unhappy expression had made Dunash suspect the worst. “Not at all. My father-in-law was ill, but now he’s better. It’s just that my wife’s letters remind me how much I miss her.”
“As long as we’re on the subject of women . . .” Dunash hesitated and cleared his throat. “It damages your reputation that you frequent brothels. People are gossi
ping.”
Eliezer fought the urge to say that people should concern themselves with their own behavior. “What would they have me do? Live like a monk?”
“Take another wife,” Dunash replied. “Or a concubine.”
“Rabbi Gershom has forbidden a man from having more than one wife.” And Rachel would never agree.
“Rabbi Gershom’s laws apply only in Ashkenaz. Men here commonly have several wives.” Dunash smiled at Eliezer’s skeptical expression. “Perhaps not several wives, then, but often a concubine or two.”
“That is more acceptable than going to a brothel?” Eliezer protested. A harlot relieved his needs and it was over. A wife expected attention and emotional attachment, responsibilities he was not eager to undertake. Rachel’s complaints about his journeys were bad enough; he didn’t need another wife in Toledo, whining that he spent too much time in Troyes.
Dunash nodded. “Since your wife is back in France, you wouldn’t have to worry about the two women getting along.”
“Assuming, just assuming, that I wanted to acquire a concubine,” Eliezer said slowly, his mind turning over that option. A concubine wouldn’t require the same level of commitment as a wife, and Rachel wouldn’t be so upset. Not that he intended to ask her permission. What his wife didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “Do I buy one at the slave market like any other servant?”
“First see if any of my current maidservants appeal to you,” Dunash suggested. “They are excellent workers and my wife already trusts them in our home.”
Eliezer’s yetzer hara immediately provided him with a mental picture of Gazelle. A Nubian beauty with a cheerful disposition, she was assigned to clean Eliezer’s rooms. Having a concubine at home, available whenever he wanted, would certainly be more convenient than hiring harlots. And if Rachel should visit, Gazelle could go back to being a housemaid.
Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel Page 31