Read Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter Online
Authors: Maggie Anton
The angels must have cured me, because my mind was completely clear. “While you’re here, I want to talk about saving Bibi bar Abaye from the curse of Eli.”
“I have no power to lift that kind of curse.” He hissed like steam escaping from a boiling kettle.
He turned to leave, but I called out, “What if Rami or Yehudit were willing to give Bibi their lost years?”
“You’ve been consulting with the dead.” He accused me with such vehemence that I shrank back and nodded timidly. “Even so, I will see if one of them agrees.” With that, the Angel of Death disappeared, and so did my sword.
Of course I couldn’t sleep, and kept replaying what had just occurred until Mesharashay woke with hunger. I had just finished feeding him when two things happened: the boat bumped into the dock and Samael returned, this time without his sword.
“Because of the great friendship between his son and Bibi, Rami will give Bibi his unused time,” he growled. “Thus Chama will not have to suffer the loss of his friend while they are both young.”
Before I could express my thanks, Rava burst in the door. He took one look at the Angel of Death and raised his fist threateningly. “Leave her alone.”
“You left your warm bed for nothing,” Samael mocked him. “She has defeated me without your help.”
Rava looked at me in astonishment and when he turned back, the Angel of Death said, “I cannot stay to explain. There is another victim here I must attend to.”
As soon as Samael was gone, Rava gathered me into his arms.
“How did you get here so fast?” I asked. Was his appearance a dream?
“They sent a messenger on horseback,” he whispered, rubbing my hands and feet to warm them. “He said you were dying of cold, so I met every boat from Machoza until I saw Adda and Kahana on this one. I was terrified I’d lost you.”
“Samael must have thought I was dying too, but I don’t feel like I am, not anymore.”
“Still, we must get you to Em’s immediately.”
On the way, I told Rava about Rami’s gift to Bibi. I was annoyed when he seemed less pleased than I expected, until he informed me that it was Bibi’s son’s illness that had delayed him. We arrived at Em’s to learn that, sadly, Bibi’s son was the victim Samael had left us to claim.
We stayed at Em’s for a month while I recovered. It was an awkward time. While I was happy to see Chama again and delight in his children, Mesharashay’s good health made me feel uncomfortable and guilty in the wake of Abaye’s grandson’s death. Abaye and Bibi mouthed grateful words for how I’d braved the Angel of Death to secure more years for Bibi, but Homa and Bibi’s wife made little effort to hide their disappointment that no one could remove the curse entirely.
All the same, before we left for home Bibi and his wife had me inscribe a
kasa d’charasha
for her with the same spell for bearing girls I’d written for Homa years earlier. The triumph I’d felt for having defeated Samael was gone, replaced by indignation that such an effort had been deemed insufficient.
• • •
Now that I was no longer living with Yalta, I decided to contact Nebazak, the sorceress she’d found most threatening. Having confronted the Angel of Death, I felt ready to summon Ashmedai and take my place among the upper echelon of Machoza’s
charasheta
. While I had both Mother’s and Em’s advice for how to deal with the demon king, I wanted to consult another with that experience.
I sent Nebazak a message, both requesting an appointment and extending an invitation to dine with me. I hoped I wasn’t being too bold, since propriety demanded that she, the senior, host me. But I wanted to be available when Mesharashay needed to nurse. To my relief, she replied that she would be pleased to join me at midday the following week.
As the day drew closer, I wavered between excitement and anxiety. But Nebazak put me at ease immediately.
“I apologize for my poor manners in not inviting you to my home first.” The willowy sorceress had none of Yalta’s hauteur. “But I have been bursting with curiosity to see this house.”
I gave her a tour, during which she praised the tile work in the entry, admired the view, and oohed with pleasure at the tapestries. As my slaves served the first course, Nebazak looked up at me. “What it is you are so eager to discuss?”
Because she was being so direct, I replied, “I want to learn from you.”
She casually ripped off a piece of bread. “Since you are no longer under Yalta’s thumb.”
I didn’t deny it. “I am not privy to the exact hierarchy, but you are evidently one of the best enchantresses in Bavel.”
“I have heard good reports of you as well,” she replied. “But I do not share my knowledge for nothing.”
I was taken aback. So far I’d viewed the
charasheta
’s world as similar to rabbis’, where nobody paid to study Torah. “How much do you charge?” I asked, trying to hide my disappointment.
“I don’t expect you to pay me in coin. I want us to share knowledge.” Nebazak chuckled at my naïveté. “You’ll teach me your spells and I’ll teach you mine.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked hesitantly.
“We can start with Em’s healing incantations,” she replied. “But to prove my goodwill, I’ll show you how to protect your husband from demons in the privy first.”
I doubted that Rava, master of Maaseh Merkava and Maaseh Bereshit, needed such protection, but I let Nebazak continue.
“I’m sure you are aware of the enmity demons bear humans in general, but here in Bavel, they hate and envy Torah scholars more than anyone,” she said. “You didn’t need to worry about this at Yalta’s because she’d already cast spells to safeguard her privies for Nachman’s sake. But assuming your husband uses the privy here alone . . .”
She turned to me and I nodded.
“Then he is in danger here, no matter how much secret Torah he knows.”
Merely imagining Rava attacked by demons made my throat tighten with fear. “What should I do?”
“Place a nut in a copper pot and rattle it loudly while he uses the privy,” she advised. “At the same time you recite any incantation that adjures the demons to flee. The important thing is that the demons know your husband is not alone.”
• • •
Thankfully, Rava acquiesced gracefully at the need for me to make noise while he used the privy. At first our children, Chanina and Acha, in particular, doubled over in laughter whenever they saw me following their father outside with the copper pot in my hand. The slaves probably thought we were insane, although they were careful to hide their opinions from us. However, once I explained the situation to Leuton, it wasn’t long before the slaves watched us in awe. Soon my sons wanted me to shake the pot when they used the privy too.
“When you are a great Torah scholar like your father, then you will need as much protection from demons as he does,” I told each boy as I turned down his request.
Once six months had gone by, nobody in our household even glanced at Rava and me when we passed by on our way to the privy in the morning.
During that time, I came to realize that Nebazak knew so few of Em’s spells that it could take years to teach her all of them. That was when I gathered my courage and told her I intended to summon Ashmedai. I explained that my mother had taught me how to do it but I wanted to be sure I had the correct procedure.
“What your mother told you is true, as far as she went,” Nebazak said, whetting my curiosity. “I prefer to use ropes to form the seal of Solomon and its surrounding circle, rather than sand. There is less chance that he can escape.”
“What else should I know?”
“The first time you summon Ashmedai he will appear as his true self, with great wings, clawed feet, and an enormous member as compelling as his gaze,” she said. “Later he may take on a familiar human form in order to deceive you.”
“As he pretended to be King Solomon so he could consort with the king’s wives,” I suggested.
“But he can also disguise himself as someone no longer living.” She sighed deeply. “Which makes a widow who loved her husband particularly vulnerable.”
I saw the tears well up in Nebazak’s eyes and understood that she was such a widow. “I loved my first husband very much,” I told her. “Do I need to worry?”
“At least you won’t be shocked when Ashmedai impersonates him and tries to seduce you,” she replied.
“Will you help me arrange the ropes so I do it correctly?”
She stared silently at her hands, lost in thought. “You may have mine. These days Ashmedai gives me more grief than pleasure and helping you is a good excuse to rid myself of him.”
Her ominous words didn’t deter me. “I intend to summon Ashmedai on a Fourth Day, during one of the hours ruled by Raphael, his nemesis,” I said. “Then I will be at the peak of my power and he at the nadir of his.”
Nebazak nodded. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
Now I needed to decide what I should command him to do, and whether to confront him with the ring on our first meeting or wait until later.
• • •
I don’t know who was more anxious about my summoning Ashmedai, me or Rava. We chose an hour in the middle of a moonless night when everyone else would be asleep. All our upstairs rooms had windows, so I utilized a storage room off the kitchen that was barely big enough for me to stand outside the controlling circle. Nebazak suggested lighting only one or two lamps; the less I could see, the better.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Rava asked as I prepared to close the door between us.
It would only make him more nervous, but I replied, “I’ve planned to do this for years, and you mustn’t interrupt me, no matter what, unless you’re certain I’m crying for help.”
I hugged him and closed the door. Then I began the incantation Mother had taught me. When I reached the final, “I summon Ashmedai and adjure you to come and stand with me,” I realized I had not asked how long it would take before he appeared. I strained to sense something, anything, to signify that he had received my summons.
Careful not to step inside the circle, I paced the small area around it. I had almost decided to put on the ring when there was a flash of light and a boom like thunder from inside the seal of Solomon. I instinctively jumped back and closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I saw a tall, dark figure obscured by a cloud of smoke.
The smoke didn’t smell like a normal fire. It stank like the cracked, rotten eggs hens abandon. As it slowly cleared, I craned to see what I had conjured, but the demon’s skin was black as the night.
“Who is it that summons me like a master calling for his slave?” he demanded. His voice was even deeper than Rava’s.
“It is I, Hisdadukh bat Haviva.” I forced my speech to stay steady. Heaven forbid the demon should sense my fear.
I could feel him staring at me, taking me in from head to toe, and I fought the urge to return his gaze.
“I am honored. I haven’t been summoned by a young woman in a long time . . . and such a beautiful young woman.” Now his words were soft, silky enticements.
I had been warned, but even so I was stunned by my body’s traitorous response. Ashmedai had barely spoken two sentences and already the heat was building between my thighs.
“I did not summon you here for a dalliance.” I tried to sound firm. “I want you to do something for me.”
Ashmedai chuckled, low and seductively, then stretched out his wings. “I will grant your favor if you will grant mine.”
It was impossible not to stare at his wings, for I had never seen such a wondrous sight. They were smooth and leathery, not feathered like a bird’s. I caught myself reaching out to touch them and hastily pulled back my hand.
“There will be no exchange of favors.” I focused on my anger at how he had almost made me step into the circle. “This is about you doing as I command, including not lying to me.”
He cringed as if I had hit him, but he was only shamming to provoke my sympathy. “What is your command?”
“Do for me as you did for my mother. Grant that my children and grandchildren will not die before me.” The fire below was growing, making it difficult to concentrate on controlling him.
“I will do better than that.” He moved so one of the lamps was behind him, revealing his impossibly massive erection. “I will prevent any of the family under your roof from dying during your lifetime.”
I understood how a snake could paralyze its prey just by looking at it. “Agreed,” I shouted as I tried to avert my eyes. I dared not look him in the face, but it was equally difficult to tear my gaze away from his torso.
“Come into the circle and I will satisfy your every desire,” he urged me. “You know you want to.”
My resolve was weakening and in desperation I held up the ring. “Tell me what this is, what magic it possesses.”
He shrieked and held out his arm to shield himself. “Where did you get that?”
“I am the one asking questions here.” In truth, his fearful response had already answered it.
“You know it is King Solomon’s ring,” he screeched.
Despite his drastic change in attitude my desire had not abated, and I was impatient to find relief in Rava’s embrace. “You will instruct me on its powers when I summon you next,” I said. “Ashmedai, I release you; go on your way.”
There was another puff of smoke and he was gone.
I stumbled out the door and into Rava’s arms. I kissed him with a passion stronger than I’d felt in years. I was so eager I tried to pull him down onto the floor, but he forced me up the stairs and into our bedroom. I didn’t wait to get undressed but lifted up my tunic while tugging on Rava’s trousers. Nearly fully clothed, we fell onto the bed. When I finally felt his flesh against mine, entering mine, I was like a pot boiling over.
• • •
I waited over a month before informing Yalta that I had successfully summoned Ashmedai. Now I would be invited to those meetings of
charasheta
I’d been excluded from before.
“I know,” she replied. “He told me.”
At first I was speechless. “So you know he granted me the same protection for my family that he gave my mother.”
When she nodded, I continued, “What else did he tell you?”