Enchantress: A Novel of Rav Hisda's Daughter (35 page)

“It is your fate to become a powerful enchantress, so if I can’t teach you everything before I die, another teacher will.”

Had I heard her correctly? My heart leapt with hope. “You’re going to teach me now? But you’re ill.”

“There are things you must know that only I can teach you.” Her eyes gleamed. “I am stronger than I appear, Daughter, and you are too. You may believe it was your father and husband who tamed the east wind at Pesach, but I know it was your doing.”

“Why didn’t you do it then?”

“I would have if necessary.” She spoke with complete confidence. “But I wanted to ascertain your power. That’s why I had your father request your help.”

I was so stunned by her revelation that I couldn’t speak.

Mother took my hand. “I always hoped one of my daughters would show some interest, and talent, in
charasha
. That’s why we arranged for you and Achti to marry local men, so I could teach whichever one of you did,” she said. “I was delighted when you started training with Rahel, and so proud of your progress. I so looked forward to teaching you, but fate had different plans.”

“Oh, Mother.” I threw my arms around her and wept while she stroked my hair like when I was a girl.

“Your father is very pleased with you as well,” she said when my tears were dry.

“Does he know about your high position?” That was the closest I could bring myself to saying “head sorceress.”

“Of course. I couldn’t exclude him.”

“Who else?” I was almost overcome by frustration. It was as if I was meeting my true mother for the first time.

“Other experts in sorcery, including men like Rav Oshaiya. Em, Tabita, and Yalta you know, but there are more you will meet eventually.”

“Yalta?”

“She is the most proficient enchantress in Machoza, as well as the wealthiest,” she replied. “That, and her relation to the exilarch, is why Rav Nachman married her.”

I’d never sensed Yalta using magic. “My ability to detect sorcery, is it common?”

Mother shook her head. “Nor can it be learned, though many have tried. It can be extremely useful.”

“You have it,” I guessed.

“Yes.” I could see the pride in her eyes. “That is partly why I attained my present position.”

“How did you attain it?”

“As with your father heading the
beit din
, I was acknowledged by my colleagues to be their leader,” she replied. “There were also tests I had to pass.”

“What tests?” My curiosity surmounted my novice status.

“Merely to be considered a candidate, one has to summon Ashmedai and force him to do her will.”

“Ha-Elohim,” I whispered. Ashmedai was the king of demons. Even King Solomon the Wise had difficulty controlling him. How could a woman hope to succeed?

Before I could ask how Mother had accomplished this, there was a soft knock at the door. Moments later Em entered, followed by kitchen slaves. One was carrying a tray of bread and porridge. When the other handed me a cup of beer, I gratefully downed its contents.

“I see that your daughter’s arrival has raised your spirits,” Em told Mother. “But I do not want her to tire you.”

“I can be the judge of how tired I am,” Mother protested.

Em ignored her patient’s petulance and continued in the same calm voice. “I want you to drink another cup of my goat milk potion and try to eat some porridge along with it. You need to maintain your strength.”

Then Em turned to me. “I expect that you need to nurse your baby and rest after your long journey.”

 • • • 

Later I found Em in the garden, sitting next to the fountain. Before I could address her, Em gathered me in a warm embrace. “Now that you’re here, Haviva has rallied wonderfully.” Taking in my hopeful expression, she continued, “Not that I expect her to recover, but I believe she has more time left than I thought yesterday.”

I nearly wept with relief. “The Sages teach that one who dies at age sixty, that is the death of an average person; at seventy it is from old age; and at eighty it is with strength from Elohim,” I quoted the Baraita. “Mother has already lived past seventy, so any extra time is the gift of Heaven.”

“She told me you are aware of her sorcery expertise.”

I nodded. That was when I thought of something to discuss with Em that had nothing to do with my leaving Pumbedita. “What did you force Ashmedai to do?”

I’d expected her to protest or refuse to answer, or at a minimum show some surprise or annoyance at my impertinence. But instead I was surprised, nay astonished, when she replied, “I had Ashmedai prevent Eli’s curse from affecting Abaye and Bibi.”

“How did you do that?” I blurted out.

“I didn’t remove the curse. It is merely postponed during my lifetime.” She sighed. “That was the best I could do, though it’s no use to their male descendants.”

“It’s still a great help.” I hugged her enthusiastically.

“I can tell you what I did, but first you should understand that Ashmedai reacts differently whether he’s summoned by a man or a woman.” There was warning in her voice.

“How so?”

“I assume you know what happened when King Solomon did it.”

I nodded. It was a popular story. “With the aid of a magic ring inscribed with the Holy Name, King Solomon made Ashmedai procure the
shamir
, the special worm that could cleave stone. Thus Solomon was able to build the Holy Temple without metal implements,” I said, attempting to give a summary rather than recount the entire tale. “But the demon king had revenge on his human counterpart, imprisoning Solomon and taking his place in the palace. Only because Ashmedai’s lust incited him to solicit all the queens and concubines, even those who were
niddah
, and even Solomon’s mother, Batsheva, did the king’s advisers recognize that he was an impersonator. Eventually they freed Solomon, who returned and caused Ashmedai to flee.”

“Ashmedai, like other demons, hates and fears Torah scholars above all,” Em explained. “So one who summons him must be strong and wise enough to control him. Even so, the scholar is in great danger, for Ashmedai will seek every opportunity to attack his adversary and escape.”

“But women?” I asked.

“Ashmedai is not threatened by a woman. Rather, ruled by lust and eager to lie with her, he may be bargained with.”

I gulped. “For Ashmedai to do as a
charasheta
commands, first she has to . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say it, let alone accept that Em and Mother had done such an abhorrent thing.

“Ashmedai is even more easily led on than a man in that situation.” Em chuckled. “A clever enchantress can force him to do her will without compromising herself, if that is her goal. Some, however, relish having the demon king for a lover.” Em’s neutral expression made it impossible to tell if she was sympathizing with or condemning the women Ashmedai seduced.

“How can a woman summon him without Solomon’s magic ring?”

“Your mother should teach you,” she replied. “I haven’t used that incantation for a long time.”

 • • • 

Mother wanted me to dine with her at midday. Hoping her illness had not affected her memory, I asked how to summon the demon king.

“First you find a room where you can secure all the doors and windows,” she said without hesitation. “Then, to circumscribe the area where you want Ashmedai confined, use fine sand to draw the seal of Solomon on the floor, surrounded by a circle. It is imperative that there be no gaps.”

“I understand.” My stomach tightened just thinking about conjuring the king of demons.

“Then as if you were calling someone outside to come in, you say the following: ‘I adjure you, Ashmedai, by the strong and mighty right hand of Adonai, by the force of His might and the power of His rule, by the One revealed at Mount Sinai, by He who brings princes to naught . . .” The incantation continued in this fashion with many more descriptions of Elohim and His strength, until concluding with, “by His name and by its letters, I summon you, Ashmedai, and adjure you to come and stand with me.”

I repeated it with her twice and then said it myself until my voice calmed sufficiently that Mother was satisfied.

“When you are done with him, all you have to say is, ‘Ashmedai, I release you. Go on your way,’” she concluded.

“Em said he would try to seduce me.” I was still in shock from learning that Mother was head sorceress. It was unbelievable, yet exhilarating, that she was teaching me such powerful magic.

Mother began to cough, but she recovered when I had her drink some of Em’s goat milk potion. “It is not so easy to resist Ashmedai as it is a human male. His gaze alone will make you feel desire, and the longer you look at him, the more intensely your passion will burn.”

“So I must avert my eyes,” I suggested, though I doubted it was that easy.

“If you can,” she warned. “His gaze is quite compelling. You must state your demand speedily and clearly, to limit the time you spend together.”

“What if he refuses?”

“He cannot refuse your adjuration, but he will try to change your mind or distract you. You must be prepared to ignore his enticements and endure your body’s frustration.” She smiled as at a sweet memory. “I found that it helped for Hisda to wait in the next room; then I could withstand my desire knowing he would be there to satisfy it.”

“Father must have enjoyed that.” I knew Rava would.

“He didn’t get to enjoy it for long. Once Ashmedai realized the passion he incited was for my husband’s benefit, he stopped trying to seduce me.”

“What did you force him to do?”

“I had him keep my children and grandchildren alive and prevent the women in my household from dying in childbirth,” she said proudly. “Unfortunately that protection ceases when I die.”

Again I was dumbfounded. I’d thought it was Father’s Torah study and piety that safeguarded our family all those years. “What else should I know about him?” I asked when I could speak.

“Never forget that like all demons, you cannot trust anything Ashmedai says unless you specifically adjure him to speak the truth and leave nothing out,” Mother replied. “Still, he will twist his words so you believe what he wants you to.”

I knew how skilled Rava was at that. “No wonder he hates and fears Torah scholars. They would not be misled so easily.”

Mother started to speak but was interrupted by a coughing fit. I rushed to support her, and then watched in horror as she struggled to catch her breath and the cloth she coughed into grew red with blood. It seemed forever until Em arrived.

“Breathe this,” Em instructed, holding to Mother’s nose a steaming bowl whose contents smelled vaguely like mint.

Slowly Mother’s breathing calmed sufficiently that Em could give her more potion. Then she turned to me. “Haviva must finish the drink while it is fresh. I cannot prevent her from using what little strength she has to instruct you, but I can ask you to be responsible for her treatment while you’re here.”

 • • • 

I spent the rest of the day sitting in on the different classes in which my sons studied. Sama, overwhelmed by the roomful of cousins, said nothing unless the tutor addressed him, but his answers showed that he understood the lesson. Joseph might be the smallest in his group, but I was pleased to see him easily read aloud the passages from Kings they were working on.

Watching Chama argue with Bibi, while Father beamed with approval, made my heart swell with pride. Though I’d seen my eldest son at least twice a year since I’d returned from the West the first time, I was suddenly aware that he was no longer a child. Of course, at age nineteen he hadn’t been a child for some time, but that day I viewed him in a new light. A head taller than me, with broad shoulders and an undeniable beard, Chama was a grown man. Except for his remarkable smile, he resembled my brothers more than he did Rami.

I was still enjoying the discussion when Rava returned. Papi jumped up from his seat, to attend his new master, but Rava waved him back and beckoned to me instead.

“Accompany me to our room.” There was urgency in his voice. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“You were gone a long time. Did you find out what was so important that Hamnuna called to you from the next world?”

Rava waited until he’d closed the door behind us before replying. “Apparently he bequeathed something to me, but his family didn’t know what.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “We had no choice but to search the house and hope I’d recognize anything appropriate when I saw it.”

“No wonder it took all day.”

“They tried to help me, but it was awkward going through each room, trying to ascertain what he might have wanted me to have,” he said. “I knew it had to be something associated with our studies, perhaps a spell book, like
Sepher ha-Razim
, but we found nothing.”

Obviously Rava had found something and was relishing telling me how. “He must have hidden it well,” I encouraged him.

“That’s when I thought of your father, who lets his steward keep all the keys except the one to the woodshed.” Rava’s dark eyes were gleaming. “Indeed, Hamnuna used to lock the woodshed, but after he died, the family saw no need to do so.”

“That’s where you found it.” My voice rose with excitement.

Rava unlocked his chest and pulled out a dusty, partly crushed basket. Probably no one had opened it for years. “Tobia and I moved the wood until we found this in a corner, buried halfway down.” He cautiously lifted the cover.

Unable to hide my eagerness, I peered inside. The basket was empty except for a sheaf of papyrus pages and a small knotted piece of cloth that was so old and dirty it was hard to tell its original color, which might have been red or brown. I gently picked up the top page and read, “Rabbi Yishmael said: whoever recites this great secret, his good name spreads in all Israel, his fear lays upon the people, and his Torah stays with him so he does not forget words of Torah all his days. He is well off in this world, secure in the world to come, and even the sins of his youth are forgiven him. The
yetzer hara
does not rule over him, and he is saved from
ruchim
and
mazikim
, from robbers, and from snakes and scorpions, and from all
shaydim
.”