Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (60 page)

 

Still Rachel waited until the Hot Fair closed, until the vintage was fermenting in the cellar, until the week before Rosh Hashanah, to take Eliezer’s conditional
get
to the
beit din
and officially accept it in front of witnesses. She would start the New Year a free woman.

Her fears of shame and gossip turned out to be greatly exaggerated, mainly because everyone had more scandalous topics to discuss. In nearby Tours, Archbishop Ralph had prevailed upon King Philip to name as bishop of Orléans a young man named John. Normally such a mundane matter would be of no interest in Troyes, except that Ivo de Chartres had taken it upon himself to complain to both the papal legate and the pope that John was currently the archbishop’s lover, as well as a former bedmate of the French king.

Worse, John was only twenty-two years old and therefore far more likely to act the part of Ralph’s puppet than that of an independent bishop. However much the new pope, Paschal, may have agreed with Ivo, he declined to challenge the king’s choice, seeing as Philip had finally returned to the Church’s good graces by putting Bertrade aside.

Closer to home, Count Hugues’ wife, Constance, had left him and demanded a divorce, an annulment actually, based on consanguinity. Rumors abounded that she was smitten by Bohemond, Prince of Antioch, who had returned to France for reinforcements, enthralling audiences with tales of heroism and gifts of relics from the Holy Land.

Some said that Constance wanted a manlier husband, that Hugues had failed to both give her a child and prove his courage by fighting the infidels. Others said that her father, King Philip, hoped to use her new availability to recruit more powerful allies than Champagne.

Guy, who visited Salomon regularly now that the scholar was disabled, had his own opinion. “Count Hugues’ natural inclination is toward the ascetic. Unfortunately it is only now that we see that he should have been chosen for the Church.”

“Who could know that Eudes would die so early in his sovereignty?” Salomon mused. “Otherwise Hugues might have become a bishop.”

Rachel quailed at the thought of what else might have happened had someone not killed Hugues’ older brother.

“Do you think Hugues will marry again?” Miriam asked.

“I don’t know,” Guy replied. “Adèle of Blois must hope that he doesn’t, so her son Thibault will remain Hugues’ heir.”

“Have you any news of Robert?” Salomon asked. “Is he content back at Molesme or does he intend to defy the pope and return to Cîteaux?”

“Apparently Robert’s monks have accepted his discipline this time,” Guy said.

Salomon sighed. “I hope that Robert finally finds the peace he seeks in Molesme.”

“Robert thanks you for helping Étienne Harding establish the
Hebraica veritas
,” Guy said. “Étienne is confident that he will be able to produce an accurate Latin translation of the Bible.”

“So I understand from my grandson and daughters,” Salomon said, followed by a yawn.

“I have tired you.” Guy stood and bowed. “I will say adieu and visit another day.”

Rachel accompanied Guy to the gate, where he had an odd question for her. “Does your husband by any chance know Latin?”

“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard that the king of Toledo is looking for scholars who know Latin, Hebrew, and Arabic,” he replied. “He wants to translate the ancient Greek texts in his library from Arabic into Latin so the Church can study them.”

“Eliezer knows Arabic,” Rachel said. “And he’s studied many of the Greek masters’ works in that language, so I suppose he could translate them into Hebrew for another Jew to translate into Latin.”

“That’s the king’s intent.” Guy sighed. “Ah, what I wouldn’t give for a Latin version of Aristotle’s
Metaphysics
or
Ethics.
” His voice was full of longing. “Or even better,
De Anima
, his great treatise on the soul.”

Dovid considered Hugues and Constance’s divorce the height of hypocrisy. “At least the Jews who divorce are honest about it,” he muttered as they studied the Mishnah from Tractate Sukkah in advance of that festival. “While our so-called Christian nobility change spouses whenever they please, in spite of the Church’s avowed prohibition of divorce.”

“You disapprove of divorce then?” Rachel asked cautiously. She had told only her children and sisters that she’d accepted Eliezer’s
get
. If her neighbors knew, they hadn’t learned of it from her family.

“The monks taught that marriage is a sacrament; that a husband and a wife must cleave to one another only, until one of them dies.”

Rachel blanched at his harsh reply. “But what if a husband abandons his wife or treats her cruelly? Jewish Law says no one should be forced to share a basket with a snake.”

“I don’t know. I’m not a scholar.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Can’t we discuss a more pleasant subject, such as our previous passage from Tractate Sukkah?”

“You are a scholar, or at least you’re becoming one.” She smiled. “And I too would rather discuss sukkah building than divorce.”

Listening as he ardently explained the difference between a valid sukkah and an invalid one, a daring idea came to her. She would encourage Dovid to study, just as the Talmudic Rachel had encouraged Rabbi Akiva. And then, when Dovid became a
talmid chacham
, she would marry him. Even better—unlike Rabbi Akiva, Dovid wouldn’t have to leave home for his education. And unlike Rabbi Akiva’s wife, Rachel, she wouldn’t be living in poverty.

thirty-three

Troyes, France
29 Tammuz 4865 (July 13, 1105)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rachel stared out her window at the dark, moonless sky. Downstairs the last of the yeshiva students were climbing up to the attic. She had gone to bed early, soon after sunset, but again sleep eluded her. She ventured onto the landing, hoping that Papa was awake as well.

To think that only a few months ago, at Rivka and Elisha’s wedding, she’d been so happy. Now her world was in ashes.

Her relationship with Dovid had developed nicely as they continued to study together, with and without Jacob Tam, and she thought he acquitted himself well at the family seder. Two weeks later, she rode out to Ramerupt one Sunday morning, anticipating that Dovid would be alone at the fulling mill while the villeins attended church.

When she arrived he was outside, inspecting a still-dripping cloth that had recently been tentered. He stopped to greet her, and they had closed perhaps half the distance between them when she heard a low rumbling noise. Rachel slowed to listen when she felt the first trembling beneath her feet. She told herself that it was just an earthquake, most likely a small one that would be over in an instant, but her mind screamed panic. Then the ground jerked abruptly and she stumbled forward—into Dovid’s arms.

The shaking stopped a few moments later, but they continued to stand together like statues, Rachel’s heart pounding and Dovid’s eyes wide with terror, until the unearthly silence was broken by birdsong. They simultaneously let out their breaths, Rachel acutely aware that she hadn’t felt a man’s strong arms around her in far too long.

Dovid immediately released her, apologizing, “I shouldn’t have taken hold of you like that. You’re a married woman.”

Some demon must have possessed her, Rachel thought later, because instead of adjusting her veil, which had come loose in the quake, she removed it and replied, “I’m not a married woman. I accepted Eliezer’s divorce last summer.”

Dovid stared at her flowing curls with undisguised appreciation, and Rachel felt her cheeks grow warm. She would never appear on the street bareheaded, but exposing her hair outside of home was part of acknowledging her new unmarried status.

After that she began to tell Dovid about Eliezer, their courtship and early years together. He was fascinated by their travels and plied her with questions about the foreign lands she’d seen. Rachel increasingly found her thoughts returning to Dovid’s earthquake embrace, and it seemed that an affection was growing between them. She began to eagerly anticipate the future.

Until that unhappy day, just before Shavuot, when everything changed.

As often happened, their scholarly discussion had veered into personal subjects.

“I know my sisters envy that I’m Papa’s favorite,” she said. “But it’s not my fault that he was away studying when they were small and home while I was growing up.”

Dovid’s eyes clouded as he recalled his parents. “As the youngest, I was my mother’s favorite. But my father preferred my oldest brother.”

It took a moment for Rachel to realize the significance of what he’d said. “How many brothers did you have?”

“Two brothers and one sister,” he replied, clearly unaware that anything was wrong.

“What happened to them?” She tried to keep her voice from shaking. Why had she assumed he was an only child?

His expression hardened. “The same as to me, I expect. After our parents were killed, we were separated.”

“I meant did you ever see them again or do you know where they went?” Rachel held her breath waiting for his reply.
Please let his brothers be dead.

“
Non
. Our captors saw to that.” Dovid sighed. “My sister could be married already or she could be locked away in a convent. I suppose I’ll never know.”

Or she could be in a brothel, Rachel thought. But it was Dovid’s brothers she cared about. “Do you think your brothers went to monasteries too?”

“Perhaps. Though my eldest brother was big enough to make a useful worker, so some tradesman may have apprenticed him.”

Rachel’s blood froze in her veins. Dovid had two brothers, in unknown locations, both raised as heretics. If she married him and he died without issue, she would become an
agunah
, never able to remarry. First it would be nearly impossible to locate the brothers to perform
chalitzah
, and, second, even if one were found, an apostate couldn’t perform the ritual. Eliezer had gotten his second wife pregnant twice, so Rachel had to be the barren one.

Her stomach felt filled with rocks. Did she want to marry Dovid so badly that she would risk being chained to his corpse? She told herself that there was no hurry to decide; she could keep studying with him and see how she felt later. But deep inside she knew the answer, terrible as it was to contemplate.

Better stop things immediately, because the longer they continued the more painful it would be at the end. And it was painful enough already that she cried herself to sleep for a week.

 

As the Hot Fair drew closer, Rachel reluctantly left Dovid and Jacob Tam to study without her. When she did see the fuller, she kept their conversations focused on business, whose great success now gave her little pleasure. Dovid never questioned her increasing absence, and if he were disappointed, he hid it well.

She was desperate to see Shemiah again, to assure herself that nothing had happened to him and to hear news of her now former husband. So another blow struck when Pesach returned from Sepharad alone. The moment Rachel saw him washing up in the courtyard she ran to question him.

“Your son is well,” Pesach replied. “But Eliezer is ill, so ill that Shemiah felt he shouldn’t be left alone in such a perilous state.”

“Alone?” Rachel asked. “What happened to Gazelle?”

“She died in childbirth some months back.” Pesach dried his hands on a towel hanging at the well. “And the child with her.”

Rachel sank down on a nearby bench. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, but she had to ask, “How serious is this sickness?”
Is Shemiah planning to stay until Eliezer recovers, or until he dies?

Pesach had been warned not to worry Rachel. “Your son thought Eliezer’s recovery would happen sooner if he were there to direct the physicians.”

“How long will that take?”

“Shemiah assured me he would be home for the New Year.” When he saw Rachel’s face crumble, he added, “But he hoped that it would be much sooner.”

 

The Hot Fair had been open a month with no sign of her son, and, worrying over him and Eliezer, each night Rachel got less sleep. Strangely enough, Papa was also staying awake longer. He too would go to bed after
souper
, but he’d get up when the students came home so he could question Shmuel about that day’s studies. Then, completely awake, he and Judah would work on his
kuntres
.

Rachel discovered this activity late one night when she went downstairs for a cup of wine to help her sleep and saw the light in Papa’s room. He’d welcomed her company and she in turn had found a few hours of solace in the night, listening drowsily as Papa explained a complicated section of Gemara from the third chapter of Tractate Makkot.

Tonight the Sages were discussing the punishment,
makkot
being the Hebrew word for “lashes,” for eating tithed or sacrificial foods outside Jerusalem. Those who ate certain tithes while
tamei
, or “ritually impure,” were also to be punished.