Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (33 page)

I was sure I’d never get the sounds of the boys’ screams and wails out of my ears, but after a stop at the bathhouse had its customary salubrious effect, we arrived at Yochani’s relatively unfazed. Neither Susanna nor I mentioned the lion and gazelle incident, concentrating instead on describing the exotic animals. Whether Rabbi Avahu was truly interested in giraffes and elephants or not, Joseph and Sama gave an enthusiastic description of the animals in response to his questions. All of us were impressed when Rava acknowledged seeing elephants as a child in Machoza when the Persian army passed by.

We were nearly finished with our meal when Joseph turned to me and said, “Are you really a
charasheta
?”

Taken aback, I replied, “I am in Bavel.”

Before I could ask why he wanted to know, Joseph challenged Rava. “But the Torah says that a
mekashaifa
is not to live.”

Avahu chuckled. “Go ahead, Rava. I think we’d all be interested in your exegesis.”

“That is a good question, Son, one many people ask when they learn that respectable Jews, even rabbis, perform enchantments,” he began. Maybe it was our exalted company, but his tone was nothing like the curt, annoyed voice he typically used with Joseph. “Once when a student confronted Abaye about Em being a
charasheta
, Abaye replied that the laws of sorcery are like those of violating Shabbat. Some acts are punished by death, some are forbidden but exempt from punishment, and some are permitted.”

I leaned forward eagerly, and when Joseph nodded, Rava continued. “Just as we may violate Shabbat to save a life, so is
charasha
permitted for healing and protection from demons or the Evil Eye. And not just to heal an illness, but to prevent someone from falling ill.”

Avahu chuckled again. “That includes us all, since everyone is either ill or concerned about becoming ill.”

“But Mother inscribed a spell so Salaman could win at chariot races,” Joseph protested.

“Not today,” I quickly declared. “That was years ago.” Of course Rava knew I inscribed incantations, like love spells, that had nothing to do with healing.

“And every Erev Shabbat my teacher Rav Oshaiya creates a third-size calf to eat in honor of the holy day.” Rava bent down and looked Joseph in the eye. “Torah only forbids foreign sorcery, such as the ways of the Egyptians and Amorites. Jews are permitted incantations that call upon our angels and use Elohim’s secret names.”

I quoted a relevant Baraita. “As it is written: You shall not learn to act according to the abominations of these nations. This means you may learn sorcery so you understand it and can teach it, and to counter it if necessary.”

Rava said softly, “It is particularly important to know
charasha
so we may protect against unscrupulous practitioners.”

 • • • 

Avahu and Susanna urged us to visit them after Hanukah. But the following evening, they reluctantly withdrew the invitation.

“The Roman governor does not look favorably on Jews from Bavel at the moment,” Avahu said. “I heard that one of your compatriots was responsible for the destruction of a great deal of the royal wardrobe in Caesarea. His resulting execution was particularly gruesome.”

“How could one man possibly destroy the royal wardrobe?” Rava asked. “Isn’t it guarded?”

“It’s a very strange story,” Susanna replied. “I wouldn’t have believed it, except the source is unimpeachable.”

Avahu shook his head in disapproval. “Apparently the royal wardrobe keeper consulted a Babylonian dream interpreter.”

“Outrageous as it sounds, the greedy fellow wanted a whole
zuz
!” Susanna interrupted. “And when the keeper didn’t pay, the interpreter would not say a word to him.”

Rava gave me a warning look. “Do you know this dream interpreter’s name?”

“It was Bar Hedaya,” Avahu replied. “Do you know him?”

“Only in passing,” Rava said. “Go on with your tale.”

Avahu looked uneasily around the dining hall and then lowered his voice. “Sometime later the keeper reported another dream, that worms were sitting between his fingers. Again the interpreter demanded a
zuz
, and again he was refused and said nothing. Finally the keeper came and said he’d dreamt that worms filled his entire hand. This time Bar Hedaya didn’t ask for payment and explained that worms were spoiling the royal silks.”

My stomach tightened with apprehension.

“When the damage became known in the palace, they ordered the wardrobe keeper put to death for negligence,” Avahu continued. “But he protested: Why execute me? Find the man who knew it all and would not tell. So they arrested Bar Hedaya.”

“And executed him.” Rava’s voice held no special interest.

Avahu nodded. “They tied two cedars together with a rope, then bound one of his legs to one tree and the other leg to the other. Then the rope was released and each tree recoiled to its original place.” He stopped to grimace. “Bar Hedaya’s body ripped in half. Even his head was split.”

 • • • 

We made our excuses as soon as we could and headed back down the hill.

“I never told you, but I was born under Mars . . . ,” Rava began.

I completed his sentence. “Yehoshua ben Levi said that a man born under Mars will spill blood.”

“Abaye said my arguments were so sharp it was as if I cut my opponents with them, not that I would actually shed blood,” Rava said slowly. “But this dream interpreter is the third person’s blood I have on my hands.”

I placed my hand on Rava’s arm. “You didn’t kill Rami. A blacksnake did. It was his fate to die then.”

“A man may be fated to die at a certain time,” he replied, “but that doesn’t mean his murderer is innocent of wrongdoing.”

We continued to Yochani’s in silence. Most of the Hanukah lamps had burned out, and it was eerie walking through the empty streets on this dark, moonless night. Occasional clouds passed overhead, obscuring stars in the process, and I shivered at what seemed to be a malevolent presence.

I couldn’t help but recall the Baraita that taught one should not go out alone, not on the eves of Fourth Day and Shabbat, because Agrat bat Machlat and her myriad demon minions are abroad and permitted to inflict harm. I also recalled how Father taught that Torah scholars, whom demons hate more than anyone, should not go out alone on any night, because of the danger.

TWENTY

F
or the first time since childhood, I woke terrified from a bad dream. I clutched Rava in panic, waking him immediately.

“What’s the matter?”

I took a deep breath to calm myself. “A dream frightened me.”

He pulled me close to comfort me. “Tell me what you dreamt. Such a powerful one might be important.”

Though the danger was gone, my heart was still pounding. “A lion was stalking me through the souk in Sura. I could hear it growling behind me as it came nearer. I knew I couldn’t keep on running, that it would catch me eventually. I began to stumble, when I saw Father’s villa in the distance. I ran toward it, but the lion kept chasing me, getting closer every moment.”

I paused to catch my breath, and Rava asked, “Is that how it ended, with the lion about to catch you?”

“Just when I could feel the lion’s breath on my neck, the gate opened and there was Mother.” I could still feel the shock of her sudden appearance. “With one hand she slapped the lion away as if he were a cat that had jumped onto her dining table, and with the other she pulled me into our courtyard. That’s when I woke up.”

It was not yet dawn, and Rava continued to hold me tight. Suddenly I saw what had previously eluded me. I understood why I was so discontented and what I had to do. My fate was to be a great and powerful enchantress, but I could not become so by continuing to study with Em.

I had learned what I needed from her. It was time for a new teacher, one to instruct me in spells strong enough to protect my family from
kashafot
like the one who killed Yehudit. Pabak said my enemies would be female, but as yet I lacked the power to fight them or even identify them. Mother had called me to come home. I could not ignore her—or my fate to become the powerful
charasheta
and leader the Chaldean predicted.

“Abba.” I turned to him. “We have to go to Sura. I have to see why Mother wants me there.”

“Don’t worry.” Rava’s tone was decisive. “If we pack our things today, we can spend Shabbat in Tiberias and join a caravan on First Day.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. He hadn’t tried to dissuade me or even delay me. “You’re willing to leave so soon?”

“I also dreamt about Sura,” he whispered. “Rav Hamnuna came to me. He said he’d left something important for me there.”

I shivered despite his warmth. “Two such dreams are an omen we cannot disregard.”

 • • • 

Yochani made no protest when Rava told our slaves to make ready to leave, not after I explained about our dreams. When we said good-bye to Salaman, he thanked me for teaching him all those rabbinic sayings and then gestured to his sons. Jacobus handed Joseph a parchment with a drawing of an elephant on it. Gabrilus had one with a giraffe for Sama.

Papi, however, was devastated. “Take me with you, I beg you,” he wailed, sinking to his knees in front of Rava. “I’ll be your disciple or whatever you want me to be.”

“Would you be my slave?”

I looked at my husband in astonishment. “Is that necessary?”

“If Papi comes to Bavel, where is he going to earn enough to pay for food and lodging?” He locked eyes with me. “Who is going to pay his
karga
?”

Even so, I protested. “Papi is too young to make such a permanent decision.”

“Most slaves never get to make the decision,” Rava said.

Papi burst in when Rava finished speaking. “I want to have you as my master. Then I can study Torah with you always.”

Rava turned to him. “If you are to become a slave in my household, it won’t merely be to study Torah with me. You will have to earn your keep.”

Papi jumped up, his face jubilant. “I can be your scribe, write letters for you, keep track of your court cases.” He paused before adding, “I can help teach your sons.”

Rava and I exchanged glances, and I nodded.

“You understand that in Bavel you will have to wear a slave’s color with my seal?” Rava addressed the youth. “And if you try to run away you will be caught and punished?”

When Papi replied that he did, Rava wrote up the contract of acquisition. It was the first one I’d seen where the slave was not being bought from a previous owner or because he couldn’t pay his taxes. Like a wife in a marriage contract, Papi chose to be acquired. Like me, he was bound to Rava for life, or until Rava no longer wanted him.

 • • • 

We spent Shabbat in Tiberias, where the rabbis tried in vain to convince Rava to stay longer. Fortunately a small caravan heading north was in town for the Day of Rest, so there was no question of delaying. Once in Damascus, we would find the fastest way to get to Bavel.

Winter was not the busy season, but the large camp for those looking to join caravans still seemed crowded. Rava forbade anyone to leave our tent until Tobia returned, as we might depart at any moment. From previous experience I highly doubted this and resigned myself to waiting a day or more. But my husband must have been a prophet, for Tobia returned shortly, several merchants and Saracens in his wake.

“Where is the man Rava?” A tall merchant, evidently used to exerting his authority, called out.

Rava slowly, deliberately turned to see who addressed him. “I am he.”

“Are you the same Rava who traveled across the desert a few months ago, along with two corpses?” one of the Saracens asked, a bit more respectfully.

When Rava replied in the affirmative, the men huddled in a circle and began, judging from their expressions rather than anything I could hear, a furious argument.

“I apologize, master.” Tobia bowed low. “I had no idea mentioning your name would cause all this commotion.”

“What do they want?”

“They are fighting over whose caravan you will join,” he said. “It is rumored that you miraculously turned a sandstorm around on our earlier trip.”

“Ah.” Rava eyed the contentious group with curiosity. “So they assume it will be their decision, not mine.” Moments later he strode in their direction.

When he returned to our tent, he smiled, though it looked more like the smirk he used to wear when he bested another of Father’s students in a Torah debate. “It seems we will soon be on a caravan bound for Pumbedita, at no cost to us whatsoever,” he announced. “If we weren’t in such a hurry, I probably could have gotten them to pay us for the privilege of our company.”

“You admitted to diverting that sandstorm?”

“Of course not.” His grin widened. “They never mentioned the sandstorm, and I didn’t either. Let them believe what they like if it works to our advantage.”