Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (57 page)

BOOK: Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter
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“Please, my son, do not quarrel with Rava.” Ifra’s words were half entreaty and half warning. “For whatever he asks of Heaven is granted to him.”

“Such as?”

I was filled with dread that Ifra would mention Rava raising Zeira from the dead, but she replied, “He prays for mercy and rain comes.”

Shapur laughed. “That is because he prays during the rainy season,” he scoffed. “Let him pray for rain now, in Tammuz, and then I may ignore his offense.”

Trembling at Rava’s temporary reprieve, I raced home and told him everything. “Can you bring rain?”

“I must,” he replied somberly. “My life depends on it.” He prayed for mercy fervently, but not a cloud appeared.

“Don’t give up,” I exhorted him. “Remember the prophet Samuel, who successfully prayed for rain in the summer.”

Rava raised his hands to Heaven. “Master of the Universe. We have heard with our ears, our fathers have told us, the deeds You performed in their time, in days of old,” he quoted a psalm. “Yet we have never seen such miracles in our own time.”

He repeated this, and other psalms, until I heard the first drops splatter on the roof. I put my hand on his shoulder to let him know that rain was falling, but he continued to pray. The rain fell harder until it became a deluge. By morning, when I sent a message to Ifra thanking her for her confidence in my husband, the gutters of Machoza were streaming into the Tigris.

 • • • 

Ifra must have informed Shapur, because no one arrested Rava. But there were other consequences. Two days later I woke to see him pacing the room, his face dark with consternation. As soon as he saw I was awake, he sat down next to me.

“My father came to my dreams last night.” Rava’s voice was shaking. “He said I had displeased Heaven with my audacity and the protection I have enjoyed was now withdrawn. He advised me to sleep elsewhere for a few nights.”

So we moved to the guest quarters and Rava arranged the pillows in our old room to make the bed appear occupied.

The next morning Rava woke me in even greater distress. “Come look at our bed.”

I hurried with him to our bedroom and gasped with horror. The bed and linens had been slashed many times by knives.

“Who bears me such enmity that he could have done such a thing?” Rava whispered.

“I will find out,” I said, reaching for the basket that held King Solomon’s ring. I didn’t want to say it, but I suspected my husband’s enemies were legion.

Ashmedai acted disappointed that Rava had escaped the attack but acknowledged that the assassin was a man, not a demon. Our cats were more useful. One of them had taken advantage of our absence to sleep in the empty bed and had jumped away when the man entered, knife raised high. She had not recognized him but knew he was not a member of our household.

Another cat told me that a man had come in during the day to speak with the master, but instead of leaving, had hidden in a storage room until dark. Several cats had seen the stranger leave the storeroom, ascend the stairs, and then hurry out the gate a short time later. I asked them to alert me if he returned.

News of the attack spread through the household. Before the morning was out, I had dispatched Dostai to the slave market to buy enough new guards to be certain that someone was on duty day and night. Litigants and others hoping to consult Rava were constantly coming and going, so I instructed our gatekeepers that every man who entered must be kept under observation until he left.

I also went to see Queen Ifra, who first congratulated me on Rava’s rainstorm and then commiserated with me that anyone would dare to attempt to murder him. She promised to put her formidable resources to work to identify the would-be assassin. A week later she gave me her assurance that nobody at the palace was involved.

Rava was adamant that no Torah scholar would commit such a heinous sin, but I wasn’t so certain.

The mystery was solved, and Rava proved correct, when a cat came to me some weeks later, meowing importunately. She followed me upstairs and when I put on the ring, told me that the man was here again, waiting to see Rava. I asked her to rub up against his legs so I could identify him, but it was easy to pick out the nervous fellow pacing the room instead of sitting patiently on the benches we provided for visitors. When the cat confirmed my suspicions, I alerted our guards.

When two of the strongest confronted him and demanded to know his business, I was horrified when the man pulled out a dagger and dashed into Rava’s study. It was chaos as Papi jumped in front of Rava to protect him and men jostled to get out of the assassin’s way. Our guards finally overpowered and disarmed him, and I sent Dostai for the Persian authorities. Even Rava had to agree that this was a case for their courts.

The explanation wasn’t long in coming. The criminal was the brother of the man who died after Rava ordered him flogged. No one had been physically harmed, so the Persian court banished the attacker to the east, to spend the remainder of his life building Shapur’s new cities.

 • • • 

With this threat removed, I felt more frustrated than ever that Zafnat was still lurking in the desert, far from my reach. Having defeated the Arabs, Shapur took advantage of Constantine’s death and the ensuing division between his three sons to attack Armenia. It was a great day in Machoza when our army set out. The cavalry marched down the streets, resplendent on their warhorses. But it was the elephants that sent everyone, even Rava and his students, up on the roof to watch in awe as they tramped through the city, their mighty footfalls shaking the houses like an earthquake.

To my surprise, our son Sama brought out the elephant and giraffe drawings that Salaman had given him and Joseph almost thirty years before. As I watched my grandchildren, some close to the age Sama was back then, elbow each other for a better view, I sighed at this abrupt reminder of how swiftly time had passed, and was passing.

When Hannah asked me if I could ascertain the names of specific demons, since this would make her
kasa d’charasha
more effective, I realized Ashmedai should be able to provide the information. That day had seen some unusually complicated cases, and though the sun had set long ago, Rava was still discussing them with his students.

So I went to my private chamber and summoned the demon king. Was he really pleased to see me or did he understand how Rami’s smile affected me? As always, I asked for news of Zafnat first, and this time he had a suggestion.

“King Shapur has completed the wall to contain the Arabs in the desert,” he said. “Soldiers will be stationed there, so your ravens will find foodstuffs available further to the south.”

My relatives in Sura and Kafri had praised Shapur’s new wall, which was visible far in the west. But I hadn’t considered the additional area this gave my birds to patrol.

With Ashmedai in a helpful mood, I decided to ask about other demons. “I am curious about the different demons and the manner in which each is able to harm humans.”

He surpassed my expectations with a lengthy discourse. “I assume you know that Agrat bat Machlat is my consort, queen of the demons,” he began. “Though you are not apt to see her, as she only visits inhabited areas two nights a week.”

I nodded and said I was aware of that.

“And I’m sure you are familiar with Lilith, the night demoness.” He said her name with pride. “Your incantations may prevent her from attacking newborn babies and their mothers, but very little deters Lilith from tormenting Torah students when they sleep alone.” He grinned lewdly, but because Rami had never smiled like that, it only made me wince.

“Then there are Shivta and Bat Melech, common demons of the privy,” he continued. “Though they are easily washed off, it is gratifying how often people, especially children, neglect to do this.”

Ashmedai went on to describe Dever, who was responsible for pestilence, Nega for plague, Kurdiakos for delirium, Palga for paralysis, and Shabriri for blindness. He pointed out that there were different types of Ketev demons who caused scourges, the most well known being Ketev Meriri, who brought on heatstroke in Tammuz. He had just finished detailing the less powerful demons, like Korsam, who gave people runny noses, and Tzerada, who brought on headaches, when there was a sound at the door.

I glanced in that direction and my heart leapt into my throat. Standing in the doorway was my husband, his face etched with such pain and fury that its force made me stagger.

“Abba bar Joseph, what a pleasure to meet you at last.” Ashmedai retained Rami’s appearance, but his voice was malevolence itself. “Almost as much pleasure as your wife’s company.”

I was paralyzed with shock at the enmity in both Rava’s and Ashmedai’s eyes. Then I recovered my senses. “Ashmedai, return to your true appearance immediately,” I commanded him.

“Tell him never to come to you in human guise again,” Rava demanded.

I’d forgotten how frightening Ashmedai looked in his demon form. He towered over us, his leathery wings open wide and his clawed fingers extended threateningly. Terrified, I obeyed, adding, “Ashmedai, I release you. Leave us.”

When the smoke dissipated, Rava turned to me. “How long has this been going on?” His voice was cold and hard as iron.

It would do no good to pretend innocence and ask what he meant. “He has appeared to me that way since I began summoning him,” I admitted.

Rava swallowed hard and there was no hiding his agonized expression. We both knew I had deliberately kept this from him for years; I hadn’t exactly deceived him, but I hadn’t been forthright either.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Is that why you stopped being so eager to use the bed afterward? Because he was satisfying you?”

“No! He never touched me, not even in a dream. He stopped arousing me because he didn’t want to benefit you. I swear it.”

“You were listening to him like an infatuated maiden.”

“He was teaching me how to write better healing spells.” When Rava looked at me through eyes narrow with skepticism, I burst out, “Can’t you see what he’s done? He kept me here, rapt as he described all the demons and what illnesses they caused, knowing you would eventually discover us. His intent, like that of any demon, was to make a Torah scholar suffer.”

“He certainly succeeded.” Rava wheeled around to leave. “And you should have thought of that earlier.”

I followed Rava back to our room, where I wailed how sorry I was and implored him to forgive me.

His reply was unswerving. “You are like a poor man who negligently sets my house on fire, then asks for forgiveness though you can never rebuild it.”

Rebuffed by his intransigence, I got into bed. Tonight his wounds were too fresh, I told myself; tomorrow would be different. But my hopes were crushed when he spread out his covers on the floor and lay down on them. Alone in bed for the first time since his illness, I lay there too distraught to even imagine how I would begin to rectify this disaster.

 • • • 

The next night Rava ignored me entirely as he unrolled a sleeping mat next to our bed. On Sixth Day I wavered between eagerness and dread. Erev Shabbat was the traditional night for Torah scholars to lie with their wives, and Rava had always been scrupulous about not neglecting my
onah
. If he didn’t meet his obligation, it was tantamount to announcing his intention to divorce me. So I anointed myself with labdanum perfume and left the lamp burning when I got into bed.

He sniffed the air suspiciously and then sat down beside me. “Don’t think I am doing any more than performing my marital duty.” There was not a trace of warmth or desire in his voice. “If I could use the bed with Choran, as much as I despised her, I can do it with you.”

He had aimed to hurt me and he hit the mark. But his words strengthened my resolve, and I held out my arms. Rava made no attempt to kiss me and turned away the few times I tried to kiss him. But his hands were unerring in their efforts, and my traitorous body responded with unexpected heights of passion. I didn’t see how he could remain unmoved by my ardor, but after he finally spilled his seed, he lay next to me only a few moments before retiring to the floor.

The next Shabbat was the same, and the one after that, yet I tenaciously held out hope that reconciliation was possible while this one connection remained between us. I wallowed in guilt at how foolish I’d been not to question Ashmedai’s motives. I assumed he’d taken Rami’s form to seduce me, when his greater goal was to lull me into forgetting his demonness and thus harm Rava through me. Now he had succeeded in ravaging both of us. Rava and I were each losing weight, and the dark shadows under my eyes matched the ones under his.

After a month, Chama sought me out when Rava, pleading a headache, went upstairs early. “Mother, excuse my impertinence, but what in Heaven has so distressed you and Rava?” my son asked. “Twice this week he was unable to concentrate sufficiently to cast even a simple spell, and it is getting embarrassing how often one of us has to correct him in court. Sama tried to ask him, but was rebuffed vehemently.”

“He interrupted me with Ashmedai.” I let Chama hear all the remorse I felt. Thankfully, my son was the one person who would understand.

“So he saw . . . ?” Chama didn’t need to finish the question.

I nodded.

“I will talk to him. Rava must understand that you, a mortal woman, would be a mere pawn to the demon king, and that he is only allowing Ashmedai to manipulate him as well.”

I cringed at my son’s blunt words but knew he was correct. Now if only Rava would listen.

According to Chama, Rava listened and even agreed with him. But that didn’t mean his feelings had changed.

 • • • 

With Tisha B’Av approaching, I was in such despair at the damage Ashmedai had wrought because of me that I was unable to find the
kavanah
to cast any spells, and even playing with my grandchildren gave me no pleasure. When I heard the ravens cawing and circling the courtyard, I was so reluctant to put on King Solomon’s ring again that I shooed them away. But they refused to go.

Just to be rid of them, I slipped on the ring and let the leader perch on my arm. “We have found her, the one you’ve been seeking,” he said.

BOOK: Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter
4.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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