The Kabbalist (12 page)

Yossi Luria let out
another whistle. “What a story. And this is our Rivka’s family…”

Aryeh nodded. “Our
Rivka’s family indeed…”

Something in his voice
told Luria that Aryeh was keeping another ace up his sleeve. “You said this was
an anecdote. What else do you have to tell me?”

“Aha,” exclaimed Aryeh,
“of course, there is this other thing.”

“I am listening.”

“Rivka’s husband…”

“Her mentally
challenged husband?”

“The very one,” said Aryeh
trying to downplay his excitement. “The name of this mentally challenged young
man, who came from a respectable family, was David…” he choked in mid-sentence.

Suddenly, Yossi Luria’s
mind was racing. Is it… he shot up to his feet. “What are you saying?”

“Luria…” said Aryeh
hoarsely.

“I beg your pardon?”

“His name was David
Luria,” Aryeh’s voice was down almost to a whisper.

“Luria?”

“Yes. David Luria.”

“Any relationship to
the Holy Ari?”

“May well be,” replied
Aryeh. “Probably a side branch of that family. I am still investigating this. But
you are missing the point. With the documents I was shown, I managed to construct
a family tree starting with David Luria and his only son, Eliyahu, all through
to our generation.”

Luria thought he was
beginning to understand.

“And…”

Aryeh opened his mouth
to answer, but no words came out.

“And where did you end
up?” Luria was becoming impatient.

Aryeh’s voice trembled.
“With you and me…”

“W
ell,” said Jeanne
with a smile. “What was it that you could not tell me over the phone? I was so
intrigued I hardly slept tonight. What have you discovered?”

The day before, Luria
asked Noga to call Jeanne and set up a meeting for the two of them in the
office. He intentionally avoided calling her personally; he wanted to send Jeanne
a message that things between them were not as usual. From Jeanne’s behavior he
could not tell whether the message got through. She was her same charming self,
who could still disarm him with a smile.

“Who said I have
discovered anything?” Luria tried to summon all the harshness he could muster.
This was not going to be easy.

Jeanne laughed. “You
would not have invited me to a friendly chat in the office. We do our friendly
chats in less formal locations.”

Luria tried to present
a chilly exterior. “OK, Ella; actually, there
has
been a development.”

“My name is Jeanne if
you don’t mind.”

Luria blushed. “Oops…
sorry. Anyway, Jeanne, I do have news for you, but that will have to wait for
now.”

“That will have to wait
for what?” Jeanne did not understand.

“For you to tell me the
whole story. I know for a fact that you are withholding information from me.”
He was finding it hard to play the offended party but was determined to keep it
on.

“Why do you say that?” Jeanne
was visibly annoyed.

“I can go with you
through the version of Pascal de Charney’s letter you gave me, and show you
that it has been censored.”

“Censored?” She was not
smiling anymore.

“Yes indeed. You did
not give me the full version.”

“Is this a fact?” she
asked defiantly. “And what do you suppose I was hiding?”

“Pascal was performing
a mission for his father. It had something to do with Safed. I think you are
interested in this task of his, rather than in his little affair.”

“You think so?”

“No,” replied Luria, “I
am sure of it.”

Jeanne grew silent.
Luria saw the fury in her eyes, but it gradually mellowed and was replaced by a
mischievous twinkle.

“OK,” she said, “I will
neither admit nor deny this for now. But any way you look at it, I am your client,
and I gave you a task. Let’s assume, for argument’s sake, that I did have
additional information, but that I considered this information irrelevant to
this task. In this hypothetical case, why should I have shared such information
with you? What if I was waiting to see whether you were capable of reaching your
initial goal, before presenting you with the next?” she looked at his solemn
face and smiled teasingly. “And what if this is not a hypothesis, and I
do
have additional information and an additional task?”

They looked at each
other for a while and then burst into laughter simultaneously. Luria
regretfully acknowledged that all his games would not alter the fact that this
woman could bend him any way she chose. He let go of the mask he had been putting
on and felt greatly relieved. “OK,” he said, “we continue as usual.”

“This is
much
better,” said Jeanne. “Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

Luria was silent. ‘Well,’
he was thinking, ‘let’s see how you are going to handle this one…’

“Yossi?” he found the
way she pronounced his name with that French accent of hers absolutely
devastating. Very few people addressed him by his first name.

Ella did.

“Yes,” he said. “I do
have something to tell you. I know who this Rivka, who captured the heart of
Pascal de Charney, was.”

“Really?” Jeanne
straightened up in her chair, alert.

“Aryeh, my cousin,
lives in Safed and has a thing for family trees. He has his resources and we now
have a good idea who she was.”

“So who was this
mysterious Rivka?”

Luria gave her the
whole story as he had heard it from Aryeh, but left out Rivka’s marriage and
pregnancy.

Jeanne was greatly
impressed. “Well, what a girl! And what a family! Pascal did have an exquisite
taste. What did you say her full name was? Rivka Bakri?”

“Yes,” replied Luria.
“That was her name before she was married.”

“So she married later.
Do you know whom?”

“Yes,” replied Luria, “her
husband’s name was David Luria.”

“Luria? Really? Same as
your name?”

“Yes, indeed.” Luria tried
to appear indifferent. “Actually, Aryeh claims that he, as well as I, are both
descended directly from David and Rivka Luria.”

“I don’t believe it!” Jeanne
called out, exhilarated. “What a coincidence! We could have almost been
relatives… This… this is simply amazing!”

“Just a moment,” said
Luria. “There is more.” He now told her about the feeble-minded Yeshiva student
and about Eliyahu, the only son of the couple, born less than seven months into
the marriage.

Jeanne listened
open-mouthed and did not utter a word. For a moment, Luria thought she did not
get the point. She sat frozen for a long time and then raised her hand and
placed it over her mouth.

“Good Lord,” she
muttered.

“Good Lord indeed,” said
Luria. “I have not yet fully recovered from this story myself.”

“We
are
related…” said Jeanne feebly. “We are relatives… I cannot believe this… Do you
have the documents to support this story?”

“I am working on it,” answered
Luria, “but I am sure this is true. This is truly an incredible coincidence.”

“And to think we were
together… and that I was on the verge of falling in love with you…”

Luria was alarmed.
“Hey, wait a minute. We are talking about more than 200 years ago. It is not
like we are brother and sister or something even remotely close to that…”

“Aren’t we? Have I not
told you how much you resemble my cousin Louis?” said Jeanne in a quivering
voice. “And you two have the exact same gray-blue eyes… I had no idea… I am so
confused…” She started crying. It was a quiet sort of sobbing that came from
somewhere deep inside.

Luria got out of his
chair and approached her. He tried clumsily to embrace her shoulders, but she
avoided his touch and went on weeping for a minute or two. “I am so confused…”
she mumbled after she had calmed down a bit.

“Me too,” said Luria.
“I know how you feel.”

Jeanne straightened
herself. She wiped her tears with tissues that Luria handed her, took a small
mirror from her purse and looked at it. “I look terrible…”

Luria thought she
looked as smashing as ever.

“OK,” she said, having
dried her face, “sorry for falling to pieces in front of you. This story got me
by surprise. I need time to digest and understand the meaning of all this. For
the time being, I am going to set it aside, and as you put it, ‘continue as
usual’…” Luria smiled, but she quickly added, “that is, at least as far as our
business agreement is involved; as for the rest of it… I don’t know.”

With a heavy heart,
Luria nodded his approval.

“Well, then,” she said,
“now that we have put this behind us, and that you have achieved your initial
goal, it is my turn. You were right, of course; I did not tell you the whole
story. We can now move to the main task, the principal reason for my being
here. As I said before, had you not completed your first task, I would not be
pursuing the next phase with you, so there was really no point in letting you
know everything in advance. But from now on, I am showing you my hand, the
whole of it.”

She fumbled through her
purse, produced an envelope, and handed it to Luria. “This is the full English
translation of the letter of Pascal de Charney.”

L
uria opened the
envelope, took out of it a few sheets of paper and placed them on his desk. He
then walked to the safe behind his chair and opened it. He retrieved the copy
of the letter Jeanne had previously given him and returned to his desk.

“As you are going to
find out,” said Jeanne and raised her eyes to meet his, “your analysis was
quite accurate. I must be a lousy forger.”

Luria spread out the
two versions side by side on his desk and started reading. While reading, he
marked the paragraphs that were missing in the former copy.

Germinal 30
^th
, Year 7 of the French Republic,

(April 17
^th
, 1799)

Tiberias.

Dear Papa,

The events that have
taken place here since the last time I wrote to you, could fill volumes.

…

Two days later, on
Germinal 10
^th
(March 30
^th
)
, I left east toward Safed
under General Murat.
Yes, Papa, this is the same Safed which appears in the
list you gave me a year ago
.

…

But before I proceed to
describe the events of this journey, I want to share with you a report that we
have just received and which illustrates the nature of our enemies - a bunch of
savages with no dignity and honor, exactly as they were 500 years ago, when our
ancestor Philippe de Charney,
in
whose footsteps you have asked me to
follow,
was fighting here.

*    *    *

Luria raised his head.
“So Pascal’s task had a Templar link.”

Jeanne nodded. “It
seems like it.”

*    *    *

The Jewish women stayed inside
their homes, but there was a young Jewish woman named Rivka, who was part of
the delegation, thanks to her excellent command of French. She was dressed very
modestly, but her beauty shone through and could not be ignored. Papa, she is
the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her French was indeed excellent, and
she translated and mediated between us and her people. During the conversation,
I realized that her intelligence and wit matched her beauty. Something in my
heart went out to her, and I knew my feelings were reciprocated.

But I also
remembered my mission and wondered whether she could help me with it.

…

Papa, for the first
time in my life I found in myself real feelings for a woman, not just the
infatuations I had experienced before. And of all women, a Jewish one… how
strange! The week that ended on Germinal 17
^th
(April 6
^th
)
,
was the happiest of my life.

But with all this
going on, I never forgot the task you had assigned to me. I asked the girl to
inquire into this business. I knew by then already how sharp and seasoned she
was, but I was, nevertheless, surprised, when within two days she came back
with information. She confirmed the existence of an artifact which could fit in
with your narrative. She said that this artifact was also revered by the Jews!
She could not tell exactly why, but claimed that its mere existence was a
secret and refused to investigate where it was hidden.

On Germinal 16
^th
(April 5
^th
)
, we received news by a mounted courier that
thousands of Turkish cavalry and infantry had arrived from Damascus and were
now crossing the Bnot-Yaakov Bridge on the Jordan River, only one day away from
Safed. We had very little time to prepare for battle. It was obvious that we
could not defend the whole city with 200 soldiers and a few cavalry, so Captain
Simon decided to retreat to the old fort and prepare for a siege. Panic spread
among the inhabitants, as we could not guarantee their safety.

To my shame, I used
the opportunity to pressure the girl into revealing the place of the said artifact,
under the pretext of saving it from the Turks and with a promise to protect her
family. Rivka had serious misgivings but eventually relented. She managed to
find out that it was hidden in one of the Jewish synagogues. I only hope, Papa,
that the good which will come out of it, can justify my shameful betrayal of
this innocent girl.

However, I was true to
my word and made sure that my Rivka’s family, along with some other local
inhabitants, retreated with us to the fort. We probably saved them from a woeful
fate. These Jews are still paying for their ancient sins, and it seems they are
destined to live forever between the hammer and anvil.

During the hasty
retreat into the fort and the panic throughout the city, I seized the
opportunity to acquire the said artifact. I had no time to check its contents
before we got to Tiberias. I did that today and found two old-looking parchment
scrolls written in a strange language. I will keep them safe and make sure they
get to you.

…

The following day, we
moved on southwards and on Germinal 28
^th
(April 17
^th
)
,
we reached Tiberias. Tiberias is surrounded by high walls and since we had no
artillery, we would have faced difficulties capturing it. Here again, the
cowardly Turks, having heard how their brothers had been defeated on the
previous day, simply deserted their positions and ran away, before we even got
there. In the city we found storehouses full of provisions.
Like you had
told me a year ago,
we found here a big Jewish community, and they gave us
a warm welcome. However, by now, my work is done,
and I will not
need them.

…

Long Live the Republic,

Your loving son,

Pascal de Charney

*    *    *

Luria looked at Jeanne.
“So, our gallant officer was combining business with pleasure.”

“Perhaps,” said Jeanne,
“but I believe he was really in love. I suggest you start thinking more
positively about him. After all, we are talking about one of your ancestors.”

Luria hastened to get
away from this sore subject. “It makes no difference to our business right now.
The important point is that I now know what we are after – two ancient
scrolls.”

“Yes,” agreed Jeanne.
“This is our real goal. I wonder what secrets will be unfolded if we find
them.”

They fell silent for a
while.

“Well,” said Jeanne
eventually, “it is time I showed you another letter.”

She fumbled through her
purse and handed him an envelope. Luria stared at her, annoyed, and she
laughed. “This is the last one. There will be no more surprises for you.”

Luria took the envelope
from her hand and opened it. He retrieved a few sheets of paper and started
reading. Immediately, he raised his head. “Gaston de Chateau-Renault? Isn’t he…”

“Yes; just read on.”

Luria took his time.
When finished, he folded the papers and put them back in the envelope. He then looked
at Jeanne. “What did Roland de Charney do with this information?”

“I’ll tell you the
whole story in detail later,” she said, “but it turned out to be a dead end.”

They fell silent again,
the two of them trying to assess the situation. “Where do you suggest we go
from here?” asked Jeanne eventually.

Luria thought this out
for a while. “First, I am going to ask my cousin Aryeh to look for clues
regarding Jewish documents which were supposedly lost in Safed in 1799,” he said.
“Then, there is a historian I know at the University of Haifa, whom I wish to
consult. He may be able to give us some direction.”

“Well, it’s a start.”

Their gazes crossed and
then they smiled at each other.