Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (46 page)

“I always welcome news of my little nephews, Shlomo and Jacob Tam.” Rachel carried the bread into the dining room. “May the Holy One protect them.”

Joheved gazed around the unusually empty table, where only Simcha and his son Samuel sat at the men’s end. “Where’s Shmuel? And the other students?”

“They’re at my house,” Miriam said. “Your son and Judah got into quite a debate this morning about Creation, and the students are keen to hear the outcome.”

The family had barely finished blessing the bread when the air was split with the clanging of church bells. Salomon’s family exchanged looks of surprised curiosity; the noon hour had already chimed. Eventually all the churches in Troyes had their say, and as the final echo melted away, Guy de Dampierre stood in the doorway, his expression more ecstatic than Joheved’s was earlier.

“We’ve received marvelous news.” The canon paused to catch his breath. “The Franks have defeated the Turks and taken Jerusalem. Pope Urban’s great quest has been successful.”

It seemed an eternity before Miriam broke the stunned silence. “So that’s why all the bells are ringing.”

He nodded and turned to Salomon, eager for the Jewish scholar’s opinion.

“What a shame that Urban died before he could celebrate the event.” Salomon’s bland statement was crafted to hide his true opinion while not antagonizing the cleric.

Guy was too thrilled to notice his audience’s dismay. “
Oui
. He died a mere fourteen days after Jerusalem fell, but I’m sure he celebrated the joyous tidings in Heaven.”

Rachel had no choice but to set a place for Guy, who babbled on excitedly, “Who could imagine the pilgrims succeeding, especially when Count Étienne returned after fleeing the siege of Antioch? And who would believe that Raymond de Toulouse and Godfrey de Bouillon both rejected sovereignty over Jerusalem, refusing to rule the city where Jesus suffered?”

Salomon passed Guy a dish of pickled leeks. “That doesn’t sound like the Godfrey de Bouillon I’m familiar with.”

“Godfrey declared that he wouldn’t wear a crown of gold where Christ had worn a crown of thorns.”

Rachel flinched at the mention of Christ. The word meant “Messiah,” so Jews avoided using it.

“So who rules Jerusalem now?” Joheved asked only to be polite.

Guy flashed the grin the sisters recognized as one preceding the dissemination of gossip. “Apparently Raymond’s refusal was merely a feint, a show of piety he expected would make the other nobles insist he take the throne. But they turned to Godfrey instead, who took leadership not as king, but as ‘Defender of the Holy Sepulchre.’ Furious, Raymond removed his army and laid siege to Tripoli.”

“Count Étienne must be mortified at the news.” Rachel refilled Guy’s bowl of stew.

“I hear that Adèle is making his life miserable with accusations of cowardice,” Guy said. “Despite Étienne spending three years on pilgrimage and going all the way to Antioch.”

“Unlike his brother Hugues, who never stepped foot out of Champagne,” Joheved pointed out.

Miriam turned to Guy. “Do you think Hugues should have gone?” Countess Adelaide’s second son, Philip, had recently died after a lengthy illness, and any mother would prefer that her last living son not embark on such a dangerous enterprise. “Who would rule Champagne if he died there?”

“I suppose Adelaide was right to keep him home; one brother on pilgrimage was enough. But that won’t stop people from calling Thibault’s sons craven.”

Rachel nodded. Whatever feelings the Jews of Troyes might have about the fall of Jerusalem, they would share their sovereign’s shame when he was mocked as a coward.

Guy, his enthusiasm somewhat deflated, drained his cup of wine and found an excuse to leave.

 

As soon as Rachel heard the courtyard gate close, she turned to her father. Salomon seemed frozen, lost in thought. Sure that Guy’s visit had plunged him back into despair over the Rhineland’s lost yeshivot, she racked her brain for something to distract him. “Papa, Eliezer heard a rumor that Godfrey de Bouillon once consulted you. Is it true?”

All heads turned toward Salomon, who let out a sigh. “Actually it was his envoy, Godfrey de Esch-sur-Sûre, not the duke himself.”

“What did he want?” Simcha asked.

“He wanted me to travel to Lorraine, to write a letter urging its Jewish communities to generously provision him and his knights for their pilgrimage.” Salomon was unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“But you never left Troyes,” Miriam pointed out.

Salomon shook his head. “After I heard that Godfrey’s messenger was looking for me, I absented myself whenever he came around, until eventually he left me in peace.” He sighed again. “Not that it made any difference. Godfrey was perfectly capable of extorting money himself, including a chest of silver from the
parnas
of Mayence.”

“You defied Godfrey de Bouillon without evil consequences.” Samuel looked at Salomon with awe. “Weren’t you afraid?”

“I didn’t think the duke would come into Troyes to chastise me,” Salomon replied. “Count Hugues would never have allowed such a violation of his territory. Look how he fought Érard of Brienne for five years over one small castle.”

“Thank Heaven that war is finally over without Ramerupt getting dragged into it,” Joheved said.

“In any case, I don’t have to worry about Godfrey chastising me now,” Salomon said. “As sovereign of Jerusalem, he’s unlikely to return to France.”

While the others speculated over whether the Edomites would prove better rulers of Jerusalem than the Turks, how long it would be until the Saracens ousted them, and what it all meant for the Jews, Salomon sat silently stroking his beard.

It was Samuel who naively asked, “Rabbenu, what do you think of all this?”

“Pardon me.” Salomon looked embarrassed, as if he’d been caught napping in synagogue.

Samuel repeated his question, and, to Rachel’s surprise, her father replied, “I was thinking of Judah and Shmuel arguing over Creation. And how I’ll need to revise my Torah commentary.”

“Revise it?” Miriam asked. “But why?” It was his Talmud commentary that wasn’t finished.

Before he could answer, Judah and Shmuel rushed in, followed by their students. “You’re going to rewrite your Torah commentary? Again?” Judah stared at him, aghast.

“But you’ve been pushing to finish your
kuntres
before . . .” Shmuel began. Joheved loudly cleared her throat, and her son’s words trailed off before he could mention how little time Salomon might have to live.

“I know I haven’t many years left.” Salomon’s stern visage silenced any protests. “But Miriam, the
minim
will use conquest of Jerusalem as proof that the Holy One has abandoned us and proof that He has made a covenant with them, the new Israel.”

The room erupted in angry murmurs. “Never.”

“I must give our people tools to answer the heretics who base their apostasy on the Torah,” Salomon continued. “Not all
anusim
will repent, especially not after this, and those who knew Judaism and rejected it will become even more difficult to convince.”

“All the more so when the
minim
justify their corrupt faith with our Torah,” Joheved said, her eyes flashing.

“Your Torah commentary must concentrate on the plain, literal sense of the text,” Shmuel insisted, now keen on the project. “The heretics may dismiss our Midrash, but they can’t ignore the clear meaning of the Holy One’s words.”

Salomon locked eyes with his grandson. “Shmuel, you’ve been studying with the
minim
for several years, both here and in Paris. If any Jew understands their claims and can help me refute them, you are the one.”

Then he turned to Rachel. “And you,
ma fille
, have taught Hebrew to both Guy and Étienne Harding. You can’t help but have heard their interpretations of scripture. Let your sisters focus on Tractate Nedarim while you assist me.”

Finally his gaze settled on his son-in-law. “Judah, you must continue editing my Talmud
kuntres
. We cannot allow that endeavor to cease.”

“You don’t need to revise your entire Torah commentary,” Shmuel said. “Genesis should be your priority, because in Creation the
minim
find justification for their most basic heresies: original sin, the Trinity, the fall of the angels.”

Rachel nodded. “Isaiah also needs to be addressed, and we mustn’t forget Psalms. The heretics imagine and invent more references to the Hanged One in these two books than in all the others combined.”

 

When Eliezer returned from his autumn trip buying furs with Pesach, Rachel tried to convince him how important it was for Papa to spend his time revising his Torah commentaries, but nothing would induce Eliezer to teach at the Cold Fair. It seemed to him only a matter of time until Talmud study in Ashkenaz was supplanted by the production of codes, as had happened in Sepharad. Salomon’s small yeshiva would never be able to replace all the learning lost in the Rhineland.

“This summer I missed precious commercial opportunities by taking your father’s place,” he declared. “And I can’t afford to repeat the loss.” He had also been unable to keep up his astronomical calculations, and now he’d have to waste time relearning them.

Normally Rachel would have interpreted this as more grumbling about how her grand scheme to produce woolens in Troyes had come to naught. But there was something about his tone, an undercurrent of despair mixed in with anger and resentment, that gave her pause. His business in the east had been successful, she wasn’t
niddah
when he got home, and there was Hannah’s wedding to celebrate. Yet his happiness was muted.

And when Judah suggested that Elisha and Rivka would make a good match, she had seen a flicker of fear in Eliezer’s eyes before he and Judah embraced in apparent joy.

“Eliezer, is anything wrong?” she asked as they lay in bed together. Usually he fell asleep immediately after the holy deed, even in the winter when nights were long and they went to bed early. But his swift shallow breathing confirmed that he was still awake. He was agitated about something.

“You’ve got to come back to Toledo with me.” His entreaty sounded more urgent than previously. “The children too.”

“But I have to help Papa with Psalms. And Shemiah is just starting to understand Gemara. You can’t interrupt our son’s studies now.” Her voice rose with alarm. “Something happened on your trip. What was it?”

“The Edomites captured Jerusalem.”

“And what does that have to do with us going to Toledo?”

Eliezer leaned up on an elbow to face her. “Rachel, the great bloodshed wasn’t an aberration. Underneath their pleasantries, the Edomites hate us, and it’s only a matter of time until what happened in Mayence and Worms happens in Troyes and Ramerupt.”

“How can you believe such a thing?” Yet he had to be serious if he was calling her Rachel, not Belle. “Both the Church and King Henry strongly condemned the marauders. And everyone agreed that they received the punishment they deserved when the Hungarian army slaughtered them.”

He sighed. “At first I thought it was my imagination, that grief and anger were affecting my interpretation of events. But other Jews agree that the change I’ve experienced in Ashkenaz, while subtle, is real.”

“What’s so different?”

“It used to be that each October when I traveled east, particularly after a hard winter and crop failures, local merchants welcomed me, were eager to buy my grain and sell me their furs in return. They didn’t seem to care that I was Jewish and I didn’t care if they weren’t.”

“And now, because the Turks no longer rule Jerusalem and people are hungry, suddenly everyone hates you?”

He paused to consider when and how things began to change. “It’s been happening slowly, ever since the great bloodshed, and not just to me but to other merchants as well. There are burghers who now look at Jews with suspicion and loathing. They can’t understand how any normal person could kill himself and his children rather than worship the Hanged One. In Mayence there are rumors that we’re demons or in league with the devil, which is one of the reasons I won’t go there anymore.”

Rachel’s insides began to tighten. Once the Edomites viewed Jews as not human, feudal rules wouldn’t apply, and they would lose their protected status. Maybe that’s why the baron had tried to cheat Papa last winter.

“This suspicion and loathing works the other way too,” Eliezer continued. “Whenever I met a German burgher, I couldn’t help but wonder if he helped open the gates for Emicho’s men. Or if he would do so, should a future opportunity present itself.”

“This is terrible. Everyone’s fear and suspicion will feed on itself,” Rachel said.

“None of this occurs in Sepharad,” Eliezer said. “Jews, Moors, and Spaniards of Toledo are on excellent terms with one another. Few have even heard of the great bloodshed.”

Rachel took a deep breath to calm herself. “Notzrim and Jews are on excellent terms in Troyes, even if grain prices are high. I see no reason why this should change just because Jerusalem has substituted one foreign ruler for another.” Eliezer had to be wrong about hatred for Jews in Troyes. Without the Jewish community there would be no fairs, and without the fairs, no prosperity.

“Rachel, I see another problem. Right now Jews have a monopoly on trade between Edom and the Levant.” Eliezer spoke quietly, as if imparting a great secret. “Our livelihood depends on buying cheap produce from the Notzrim and selling it for a profit to the Saracens, then turning around to buy cheap goods from the Saracens that we mark up for sale to the Notzrim.”

“Don’t lecture me. I’ve been a merchant longer than you.”

“I just wanted to make sure you understood.”

“I do. So what’s your point?”

“Right now we charge prices as high as we like because nobody knows our costs. But assuming the Edomites aren’t ousted from the Eretz Israel immediately, they will soon discover what Jews pay for the silk and spices we sell so dear.” Eliezer paused for Rachel to digest his words. “And when the Venetians or Lombards realize our profit margin, how long do you think it will take before their ships start transporting merchandise as well as pilgrims?”