Apprentice (35 page)

Was it my imagination or did trepidation briefly cloud Keshisha's face? Zahra was crying when we reached my room, and she shrank back as soon as she saw who was with me. Keshisha stood rooted to the spot, his gaze switching between Zahra and Yenuka, whose hands had clenched into fists.

“He said he loved me,” she exclaimed. “That he'd free me and marry me.”

I knew Zahra was telling the truth, but I doubted my brother had been.

Yenuka's face grew red with anger. He grabbed Keshisha by the tunic and yanked him so their faces were almost touching. “You told her that? Are you insane?”

Keshisha broke away. “Why shouldn't we marry? Father just freed the potter's daughter so she could.”

How could my brother be so stupid? “Haven't you paid attention to anything in Father's lectures?” I asked with disgust. “A Kohen is forbidden to marry a
zonah
. And even if Zahra hadn't been with other men before you, a Kohen is also forbidden to marry a convert.”

“Let her be my concubine, then,” Keshisha begged.

Yenuka banged his fist against the wall. “I refuse to let my daughter marry anyone who would place a rival in her house. And I'm sure most fathers would feel the same.”

I almost began to pity my youngest brother. “Keshisha,” I said gently, “it's one thing for our
aris
to marry a freed slave, but your situation is different.”

“We'll run away together.” His voice wasn't so insistent as when he'd said he loved Zahra.

“What's this I hear about Keshisha running away?” Mother stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

Yenuka quickly explained the situation, and everyone remained silent while Mother considered the problem.

“Of course they cannot marry. Hisdadukh is quite right,” she concluded. “And Yenuka is also right. No decent family will let their daughter marry Keshisha if he comes with a concubine.”

“Mother!” Keshisha whined like a child. “What am I to do?”

“You will give up this foolishness and marry your cousin Guria.” She turned her attention to Yenuka. “I suggest that you take him back with you to Kafri tomorrow.”

“I agree,” said Yenuka. “He'll quickly forget the
zonah
once the two of them are separated.”

I wanted to protest that it wasn't Zahra's fault that she was a
zonah
, but Keshisha spoke first. “You can't do this. I'll go to Father.”

Mother rolled her eyes. “As you wish, Son, but you will not like his response any better.”

Obviously my brother's
yetzer hara
had conquered him. Mother was being quite reasonable, considering the circumstances. Father was sure to lose his temper and punish not only Keshisha but Zahra too.

“Mother, what will happen to Zahra?” I asked.

“She cannot continue to live here, so the easiest thing would be to sell her.” Mother must have seen my stricken expression because she quickly added, “But I suppose you will be taking her to your new home, which also solves the problem.”

I had no intention of selling Zahra and going to the slave market to buy a new maidservant. “What about the baby?”

“You are a married woman, Hisdadukh,” she said. “As part of your dowry, Zahra belongs to you. If you do not want your slave to have children, talk to Shayla about stopping the pregnancy.”

“She's already felt life. Wouldn't that be dangerous?”

“Don't do it!” Keshisha cried out. “Don't kill my child.”

Mother glared at Keshisha. “You should have considered the consequences before you seduced one of your father's slaves.”

“And if I don't stop the pregnancy?” I asked.

“You will not be living alone. At a minimum you should speak with Rami and, better yet, with Ukva and Achti.”

Yenuka took Keshisha by the arm and, none too gently, led him away. Mother directed me not to allow Zahra to leave my room, except when she was serving my meals. At night the door would be guarded.

Weighed down with guilt, I first searched for Rami and then brought him to Ukva and Achti, who were on the roof watching a golden sunset.
A cooling south wind blew gently, and the scene was so peaceful that I hated to disturb them. This debacle was my fault, a result of my lack of vigilance. All I could do was present my predicament and apologize. Ukva was the head of my new household. His decision would be final.

To my surprise, and relief, Ukva said that he'd heard good things about my maidservant. He saw no reason to risk her health by trying to end her pregnancy, especially since they'd not yet replaced the two slaves who had died during the drought's pestilence. My joy at his decision made me realize that Zahra was a bond with my parents' home that I could take with me.

Another surprise, Achti hugged Ukva gratefully and said that she would be happy to have a baby in the house again. Privately Achti told me that this infant might fool the Evil Eye that had kept her from getting pregnant again. Either that or the Evil Eye might target Zahra's child instead of her own. In any case Zahra did hair and makeup better than any of the slaves they currently owned. As for how Pushbi would react, she might adore the child or she might loathe it.

Rami rose higher in my esteem when Father called the entire family, along with all his students, into the
traklin
for an announcement. They undoubtedly expected that he would give a farewell speech to me and Rami, and then bestow his blessing on me as I left for my new husband's home. But when I saw Keshisha standing stone-faced next to Father, I knew that we were about to witness my brother's public ordeal.

First Father berated Keshisha for being an indifferent student, the worst by far of any he had taught. Then he shamed him further by demonstrating Keshisha's ignorance of such basic Torah knowledge as whom a Kohen may marry and whom he may not. I could see my brothers and the students looking away and squirming in embarrassment as Keshisha was so openly humiliated.

Next Father accused him of failing to curb his
yetzer hara
. Worse than visiting harlots, Keshisha had lain with one of his father's slaves, in his own home, sneaking about at night like a thief. And when reprimanded for his lechery, he had blamed his sister for not guarding her slave better.

Father went on criticizing Keshisha, but I didn't hear him. My blood was boiling. How dare my brother try to deflect his sins onto me! And after I'd arranged to spare his unborn child. I continued to fume until my
inner fury was interrupted by Father's decision on how Keshisha would be punished.

“My son is too old to be beaten,” he said soberly. “But a slave may be whipped at any age.”

Ha-Elohim! Father intended to punish Zahra in front of my brother just as he'd done with Nurse and me years ago. My throat tightened and I clutched Rami's hand as I remembered being forced to watch as Timonus beat Nurse for my misbehavior. No matter how much I hated my brother at that instant, I couldn't allow Zahra to be whipped to punish him.

I stood up and addressed the room. “Zahra is my slave now. Father can rebuke my brother however he likes, but he has no authority to chastise her.” I paused and added. “Or to sell her.”

Rami stood and squeezed my hand in support. “The slave Zahra, part of my wife's dowry, has come under my control. My brother and I agree that she will not be subjected to any punishment that endangers her or the fetus she carries.”

Father's eyes narrowed with frustration, but he knew we were correct. So he turned his rage against Keshisha. “So that you never shame our family again, you are banished from this house and this city. You may collect your things and take a manservant with you. Timonus will give you money for one night's lodging. Tomorrow morning you are to leave Sura.”

I glanced at Yenuka, who was exchanging nods with Mother, and then sank back onto my cushion in relief. Keshisha wouldn't actually be banished; Yenuka would take him back to Kafri. There neither Zahra nor I would have to deal with him.

Yenuka waited until Rami and I were up and dressed before taking his leave. “I'm sure some hard work harvesting dates will curb our little brother's
yetzer hara
. Guria will not marry him until he has fully repented.”

We walked together down to the canal where the barge carrying his family was docked. “I'm sorry I let you down. I hope Guria doesn't have to wait too long.”

“She won't,” he said. “Keshisha's rebellious nature will subside when he doesn't have Father there to rebel against.”

I watched until their barge disappeared from sight before heading back to the villa. A donkey stood at the courtyard gate, hitched to a cart loaded with chests and baskets containing my belongings.

It was time to say good-bye to Grandfather. Rami and I approached the bed where he spent much of his time these days, and I sighed with relief when he opened his eyes.

“So, Hisdadukh, you are leaving me.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I will miss you, Grandfather.”

He took my hand, and I startled at how dry and fragile his skin felt. “Promise that you will come to visit on Shabbat.”

I looked up at Rami, who smiled in agreement. “We will come every week,” I said, leaning over to drop a kiss on Grandfather's creased forehead.

My new life was beginning, and part of my old one was ending.

I
couldn't help but feel disappointed when I became
niddah
the very next week. The earliest I could visit the
mikvah
was after sunset on Sixth Day, and thankfully Rami agreed that I could return to the villa with him after Father and the students finished at court. Then I'd have an extra day to spend with Grandfather, and Rahel might even have a bowl for me to inscribe.

Not that I was unhappy at Rami's house. True it was smaller and the furniture was old, but when he was home, I often felt as though I would overflow with happiness. Recalling Father's advice, I tried to appear diffident and hide the pleasure that came merely from being in my husband's presence. Whenever Rami smiled at me, which thankfully he did often, my heart would swell with such joy that it was almost painful.

One of my favorite times of day was when Rami returned from Father's lectures and I washed his feet. Knowing how it inflamed him, I'd feign innocence while my fingers moved sensuously up his legs. My game continued until he grabbed my hands to end the teasing. Often he'd pull me upstairs to use the bed right then.

Using the bed was a previously unimagined delight—one I never tired of. I made no attempt to hide my pleasure, for it was clear that the more enjoyment I exhibited, the more it excited Rami. Then, after we were sated, I lay in his arms while he related what had happened in Father's class that day.

Yet when Rami was gone, I didn't feel alone. After all, my sister lived there too, and I was able to see Mother and my sisters-in-law nearly every day at synagogue. The four slaves I brought as part of my dowry made the domestic drudgery less onerous on the others, although two of them would hopefully be adding nursemaid to their responsibilities in the near future.

It was strange to be part of such a small household, one with no children at all. Pushbi took her meals in her room, so only Ukva, Achti, and I dined together at midday. Rami joined us in the evening, when he regaled us with what he'd learned in court or from Father's lectures.

We ate well. Achti saw to that, although our food came from the souk and not, as at Father's villa, predominantly from our own land. Thus my world opened up, and I reveled in the opportunity to go shopping nearly every day. Sura lay at my feet, and there was no one to make me stay home. Achti took pleasure in instructing me how to identify the finest meats, the freshest vegetables, the best-tasting fruits and cheeses. I knew it reinforced her opinion that studying Mishna had prevented me from learning subjects more appropriate and practical for my gender, but I so enjoyed wandering the city that I accepted her gibes at my ignorance. I was ignorant, and happy to remedy it.

Now that Rami was married, Rav Huna appointed him a market inspector. His new responsibilities included ensuring that meat was slaughtered according to Jewish Law, that all weights and measures were accurate, and that only authorized local sellers set up stalls in the souk. It was impossible for me to avoid the merchants under his jurisdiction, and though I tried to avert being given any special treatment, Achti had no such scruples.

Achti may have thought my Mishna learning was a waste, but she had no complaints about my magic studies, not after she saw how much my amulets sold for. Thank Heaven I couldn't inscribe them on inauspicious days, or she would have sent me to Kimchit's daily. Our slaves were eager to accompany me there, since all they had to do was sit and spin flax while I wrote. None of them complained to Achti when I made us take longer-than-necessary routes coming and going, as I sought out new streets to explore, new shops to visit.