Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (42 page)

 • • • 

Less than a week after returning to Machoza, Rava told me he would be studying with the magus Adurbad bar Mahrspandan. “He is certainly sharp, but I expected someone older than me, not ten years younger.”

“He doesn’t mind studying with a Jew?”

“I’d say we are equally dubious about the arrangement.”

“But if it is successful, the rewards could be unimaginable. You, and he, would learn things that none of your colleagues know.”

“Or have ever known.” Rava’s eyes gleamed with thirst for the secret wisdom. “That is why I agreed to Rav Nachman’s proposal, though I have no idea what, if anything, will work when we try to perform each other’s spells.”

“I would advise against showing him the incantation for kindling fire. A magus might see that as blasphemy,” I said.

I smiled to myself as I recalled how thrilling it was to teach Rava magic. Secreted in my workshop, we felt our excitement growing as he followed my instructions, tentatively at the beginning but then with increasing authority until the flames appeared immediately at his command. At first we embraced purely from elation at our success. But following one lengthy kiss, we looked into each other’s eyes and our exhilaration flared into carnal passion. We raced upstairs to our bed as if he were a sailor home from a long journey.

Sometime later, my head resting on his bare chest, I said softly, “Now you owe me a spell.”

 • • • 

Perhaps it was only in comparison to the genuine conversations I’d enjoyed with my family during the fall holidays, but the gossip at Yalta’s seemed more disingenuous than ever. Every noblewoman was enthralled by the news that King Hormizd, after taking junior wives from each of the five noble Sasanian families, was negotiating to marry one of the exilarch’s daughters.

Even
charasheta
talked of little else. Bored, I wasn’t paying close attention to the discussion, when I suddenly broke out in gooseflesh. Someone was performing magic, dark magic.

I surreptitiously glanced around the room and rapidly identified the perpetrator, Diya, whose beady eyes were focused malevolently on Matun. I could see the animosity between the two young women. Matun was by far the more attractive of the pair, as Diya’s face was blemished with pockmarks. I couldn’t ignore Diya’s audacious attack, so I thought of a plausible interruption.

“Diya, can you advise me?” As soon as I said her name, the sensation disappeared.

She startled for a moment then replied, “What help can I give you?”

“My boys need new sandals. Can you recommend a shoemaker who makes sturdy ones for children?” Diya often complained about her children, to confuse the Evil Eye of course, so I knew my question would seem natural.

She gave me the names of two, and directions for how to find them, which was useful because Joseph’s sandals did indeed need to be replaced.

When the last visitor was gone, Yalta turned to me with narrowed eyes. “Why did you really ask Diya about shoes?”

After I explained what had happened, Yalta paced the room silently for some time before speaking. “You mentioned at Pesach that you can sense magic, and I have been remiss in not questioning you about this ability.”

“I have felt it several times, from different sources and in different circumstances,” I said cautiously. “I seem to be able to distinguish between curses and protective spells.”

“Can you always feel it?” Yalta sounded excited and curious.

“I don’t know.” Yalta had never shown any interest in my talents or training before. I should have felt flattered, but instead my defenses went up.

“I’d like to test you.” She headed toward her quarters. “You tell me how many times I perform magic.”

I stood outside her door for some time but felt nothing untoward from the other side. I was wondering how long Yalta was going to leave me waiting, wallowing in my failure, when the door opened and she rejoined me.

Despite my shame, I promptly admitted my lack of success. “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you.”

“You haven’t disappointed me. I didn’t perform any enchantments.”

I was too relieved to be angered at her subterfuge.

“This time I’m going to test how far away you can feel it.” She went back into her rooms and before she closed the door, said, “Count how many spells you notice and how much time elapses between them.”

I had no trouble discerning six occurrences, the last one a good deal after the first five and somewhat weaker. So I informed Yalta when she returned.

“Excellent. The sixth one was done at the far side of the garden.” Her eyes shining with satisfaction, she sat down and patted the cushion next to her. “You may tell your husband what I’m about to say but no one else.”

“You may depend on my discretion.” I leaned closer so I wouldn’t miss anything. Was this the magic Mother had hinted at?

“Next month King Hormizd will marry my niece Ifra at the exilarch’s palace, where the couple will spend their wedding week. You and I, with our husbands, will be in attendance.”

“We will? The entire seven days?” I was thankful that Chanina was now weaned.

She locked eyes with me. “Officially you are invited because your mother was Nehemiah’s first cousin. The truth is that in order to prevent anyone from interfering with the consummation, he has arranged for the two of us to be stationed outside the bridal chamber. When you detect any dark magic, you will alert me so I can counter the spell.”

I noticed that she’d said “when,” not “if.” This could be quite a challenge. Between the king’s sons and other wives alone, there were more than sufficient suspects who’d want to prevent him from successfully bedding his new bride.

 • • • 

Wedding guests dressed in their finest jewelry and silks were treated to lavish, sumptuous cuisine and entertained by the most skilled of musicians, yet it was the least enjoyable banquet I had ever attended. I was determined to keep alert to the slightest hint of magic, and not be distracted by the opulence. But it had not occurred to me that there might be too much magic, that I would start sensing it as soon as I entered the vast dining hall. Thankfully, all the spells I detected were benign, most either to influence important people in one’s favor or to counter such spells.

Out of curiosity, I turned my attention to the Persian royal family, whom Yalta had identified as we entered. Hormizd, king and bridegroom, sat imperiously on a tower of silk cushions. His gray-streaked hair and beard were elegantly oiled and curled, his outfit a dark purple, and his massive gold crown shaped like a ram’s head with jeweled eagle’s wings. His air of impatient boredom changed only when he gazed hungrily at Ifra, a fair-skinned beauty who couldn’t be more than a third his age. Every feature of hers was exquisite, from her large dark eyes and full lips framed in a perfect oval face to her small graceful hands and feet.

The king’s four sons, the youngest of whom was a youth in his teens, were seated on slightly fewer cushions in close proximity to their father. Their clothes were a lighter shade of purple than his and their crowns less elaborate. The younger three—Hormizd, Shapur, and Ardeshir, were certainly enjoying themselves. They laughed and joked as they gorged themselves on Nehemiah’s banquet, called for endless refills of wine, and ogled the dancing girls.

The eldest, Crown Prince Adhur Narseh, was different. He was of slender build, a contrast to his brothers’ heft, and bedecked in gold jewelry. He ate sparingly, and only after his slave tasted the food. Even then, he sniffed at each dish and cup before partaking. After observing him for some time, I realized that his jewelry wasn’t purely decorative. Amulets, a great many of them, were attached to those gold chains and bracelets. What, I wondered, was he so frightened of?

As the hours passed, my stomach tightened with anxiety. It seemed an eternity before Ifra was escorted to the bridal chamber, at which time Yalta silently led me through a maze of passages before opening a door into a small interior chamber furnished only with a few tables and cushions. One table held a tray piled high with fruit, cheese, and sweets, while another held a jug of wine and cups. Two of the walls were decorated with ornate latticework.

I took this to be a room for private meetings until Yalta put a finger to her lips and beckoned me to one of the lattice walls. Standing near it, I could hear feminine voices on the other side. Immediately I began to blush, for the purpose of this room, which evidently adjoined the royal bridal chamber, became clear. Whether their purpose was lecherous or merely to document the consummation, who knows how many men had eavesdropped on the occupants on the other side of the lattice?

This was where and how I would be spending the next seven nights—cooped up with Yalta while King Hormizd bedded, or attempted to bed, his new bride in the next room.

TWENTY-SIX

A
bruptly I felt it, that tingling sensation of dark magic. I jumped up, and even before I hissed at Yalta to alert her, she was chanting under her breath and moving her hands. The ferocity of the curse, similar to the binding spell I’d done with Yalta but much stronger, so frightened me that without thinking I responded with the
tachim-tachtim
incantation Mother had taught me.

Just as suddenly as I’d first sensed it, the dark magic ceased. I leaned against the far wall and let the tension drain out of me. Yalta’s reaction was to incline her head toward the lattice and resume her eavesdropping. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she stood up, smiled triumphantly, and poured each of us a cup of wine. I was shaking so violently I could barely drink mine without spilling it.

But our work had just begun. Three more times that night Yalta and I repelled evil spells against the newlyweds. Yalta was all business, never joking or making even the tiniest salacious comment. When the exilarch’s slaves came for us at dawn, I discovered I was
niddah
and was forced to delay our return home while they searched for a
sinar
and rags with which to stuff it for me.

When we arrived back at Nachman’s, the guards informed us that he and Rava were still asleep. I was delighted to find my children already breaking their fast, and eagerly joined them. Normally at meals I mixed the first cup of wine for Rava and placed it in his hand, but being
niddah
I had to modify that procedure. So when he came downstairs, I made a show of mixing his wine and setting the cup next to his cushion. It took him a few moments to recognize the significance of my actions and step back instead of welcoming me home with a hug.

For that day’s wedding banquet, Yalta insisted I wear something different from the previous day, when I’d dressed in the silvery silks I’d worn when marrying Rava. Then after rejecting my plain gold necklace as unimpressive, she handed me one heavy with rubies and emeralds along with matching earrings that almost grazed my shoulders. Once at the palace I started taking pleasure in sorting out the varied spells I sensed and in watching Rava and Nachman interact with the other men. When I noticed Rava conversing with a handsome, boyish-looking magus, whom I assumed to be Adurbad, my first impulse was to have Rava introduce me. Thankfully, I recalled how strict Persians were about menstrual impurity. Heaven forbid I should approach a magus while I was
dashtana
, when they believed that even my gaze would contaminate him.

Fortunately my impurity had no effect on my capability to detect dark magic. According to Yalta, who continued to listen at the lattice by herself when she couldn’t convince me to join her, I was equally successful at my task that night and several times during the wedding nights that followed. When the celebratory week ended and the new queen moved into the king’s harem, all I could think of was how I longed to sleep for twelve hours straight, visit the
mikvah
, and resume using the bed with my husband.

Payment was the furthest thing from my mind, and thus I was taken aback when Yalta summoned me to her apartment the following day and handed me a small chest. Clearly she expected me to open it in her presence, which I did.

And gasped with wonder. The chest was half-full of gold coins, and the remaining space was stuffed with six silk purses, each containing the jewelry Yalta had made me wear on one of our six days at the palace.

“This is too much,” I stammered. “I’m merely a student. I don’t need to be paid.”

Yalta waved aside my objections. “Just as loyal subjects should be eager to serve their sovereigns out of love and duty, so too a wise monarch rewards his subjects when they perform noteworthy service.”

 • • • 

Two weeks later Rava and I were escorting Elisheva to Father’s villa for her wedding to my son. I understood why I wasn’t included in the preparations. Rami’s brother, Ukva, was Chama’s guardian; planning the banquet with Mother was his responsibility. But I still felt excluded.