The Debt of Tamar (6 page)

The room was packed with men, young and old, some hailing from the old country, others the children of Inquisition refugees born on Ottoman soil. José did not know them well but they had all suffered from the same fate. There was camaraderie among these men.

The congregants partook in the spirited liturgy with fervent enthusiasm. Anyone passing by could have easily mistaken the service for that of a Catholic church gathering. Having been forced to attend mass for the better part of their lives, the congregants adopted much of the chorus-like tempo of the churches they’d left behind. Of prayer, it was all they knew.

At the end of the service, José spotted Doctor Hamon in conversation with a few of the community’s elders. He was standing tall with hands locked, nodding in his measured, gentle way as they spoke to him. They bid the doctor farewell and wished him good Sabbath just as he was approaching.

“José. So good to see you.” Doctor Hamon’s smile was warm and welcoming. “Is everything all right? You look unwell.”

“No, I’m all right. There is a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Is it La Señora? Has she fallen ill?”

“No, she’s fine. It’s just that, well…”

“José! Have you met my son?” The doctor turned to a tall boy that was approaching the two of them.

The young man bowed slightly. “My father has told me much about you. I am glad you and your family have made it safely to Istanbul.”

“Yes.” José tried to keep his voice steady. “Well, thank you.”

“Tell me,” the doctor cut in. “What’s troubling you, José? Was there something you wanted to discuss?”

José looked over the doctor’s son. He was extremely tall, a head taller than José, with powerful shoulders and sparkling hazel eyes set off by the dim glow of his Arabian complexion. This then, was the man that Reyna was betrothed to.

“I’d prefer to discuss the matter with you in private.” His voice was low.

“Of course, José.”

“Can you come by tomorrow?”

“I’ll be by after sundown.”

The next evening, Doctor Hamon arrived at their villa and came in gently, with quiet footsteps and a tinge of sadness in his eyes. José, in a bronze caftan and low turban, made his way down a few shallow stone steps, through the airy corridor towards the low divan on which Doctor Hamon was seated.

“Doctor Hamon, thank you so much for coming by on such short notice. You must be wondering why I’ve asked you here.”

“I’m not wondering, José.”

“You’re not?”

“I know why I’m here. You are going to ply me with cheese and dates and cakes, maybe offer me a handsome sum of money, then ask that I release Reyna from the betrothal.”

Stunned, José said nothing.

“Does that sound right?”

“Well—”

At that moment, a servant appeared carrying a tray of cheese and a bowl of olives.

Doctor Hamon took one look at the tray then laughed, low and hard.

“How did you know? How could you possibly?” José’s voice trailed off.

He waved his hands and smiled. “Let me save you the time. I don’t want your cheese and I don’t want your money.” He leaned back.

José felt a knot tighten in his chest. If the doctor would not release Reyna, he’d take his chances and marry her anyway. But at what cost? To break a promise made to the Sultan’s most trusted physician would have dire consequences for the entire family. “Is there something you
would
like, then?” José asked lamely.

“Maybe some wine?”

“Wine?”

“Sure. We are men. We are brothers. Let us drink wine together. It is, after all, the only worldly pleasure in all the empire that we, as Jews, are permitted, while our Muslim neighbors are banned from even the smallest drop.”

“All right. But what about—”

“Do not worry, José. I release her, of course.” He waved his bony hand as he spoke. “I saw it in your eyes when you arrived. You are very much in love.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” José leapt up from his place.

“Marry her. You have my blessing.”

He took the doctor’s hand and kissed the ring on his finger. “What of your son?” He looked up suddenly. “Will he contest it?”

“He will be angry, of that I am certain, but we are not brutish men. His ego may be wounded, but nothing that won’t heal in time. After all, he’s never even met the girl, and besides, you’ve seen him, a boy like that, he can marry any girl he chooses.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

“The price, I’m afraid, you might find a bit steep.”

José froze in his place and let the doctor’s hand fall from his grasp.

“Well? What is it you want then?” His face was frozen. His body rigid.

“I told you.”

José clenched his fists and tried to quell the mounting rage within him. Whatever the price, he would find a way to pay it.

“The Nissim vineyards are the stuff of legend. Does a case sound fair?”

José felt his body go limp as something bright and warm began to rise and shine within him. He kissed the doctor on both cheeks then clapped his hands together. “Good Doctor, you’ll have wine from our vineyards for the rest of your days!”

That same month, José married Reyna. As a wedding gift, he gave her a gold cuff encrusted with four polished emeralds. She slipped it over her wrist, scraping a bit of skin as she did.

José could hear Doña Antonia moaning in the bedroom. All throughout the night, she lay awake, tossing and turning with a fever that was ravaging her already weakened body. Her cries now reached a stunning crescendo, and it seemed there was nothing anyone in the household could do.

He peered through a crack in the doorway. Reyna was by her bedside ringing a wet cloth over bowl. Her pregnant belly bloated out from her velvet robe as she patted the damp cloth over her mother’s forehead and eyes.

“The nurse can do this.” Doña Antonia pushed Reyna’s hand aside.

“I want to help.”

“I don’t want you in here.” Her voice was firm.

“But this is where I belong,” Reyna pressed desperately.

Doña Antonia rolled over and curled her body in a tight ball. “You have a child to think of.”

“I am thinking of the child, a child who will need his grandmother.”

“Two of the servants have already been lost to the fever. How many more people have to get sick while trying to save me?”

José pressed the door gently and stepped inside. “She’s right. You shouldn’t be in here.” His eyes were on his wife. “Please, go back to bed.”

Reyna looked up, astonished. “I’m not leaving my mother.”

José made his way to the bedside and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You heard what the doctor said. You can’t be in here. I should have sent you to the countryside. If you catch the fever…” José’s voice trailed off. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. First thing in the morning, I’ll have the coach take you to the country, away from all of this sickness.”

“I won’t leave my mother on her deathbed!”

He took her by the forearm and pulled her from her chair. “You’re not thinking clearly!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She yanked her arm free. “She may not be here in the morning.”

“Get her out of this room!” Doña Antonia shrieked, “and let me go in peace.”

“But, Mother—”

“You have been a good daughter.” Beads of sweat ran down Doña Antonia’s face as she spoke. “Now listen to your husband.”

José led her from Doña Antonia’s damp chamber. He closed the door behind them, then placed his hand over her bulging stomach. “We have already lost three sons before they ever left your womb.”

Reyna lowered her head.

“For every child, I prayed for a safe delivery. I am ashamed that He did not find my prayers worthy.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“But it is.” He stumbled back. “I dared to change our fate and G-d is punishing me.”

“You didn’t change our fate. No one can alter the course of destiny.”

“But you were supposed to marry the doctor’s son! And I, so arrogant, rejected G-d’s plan.”

“You didn’t stand in the way of his plan.” She took José’s hand in her own. “His plan was delivered through you. And this one,”—she placed his hand on her belly—“He is part of the plan.”

“Please, Reyna.” José’s body ached with the weight of exhaustion. “Go back to your room.” He turned away then descended a flight of stairs to the main floor landing. He found Moise, one of his Spanish servants, at the foot of the stairwell in the grand foyer.

“Don José, should I call for the Doctor?”

“Yes and do it quickly.” José paced back and forth as he spoke. “I’m afraid La Señora might not survive the night. Tell me, Moise, have any of the other servants fallen ill?”

Moise lowered his gaze.

“That bad?”

“Among the ladies, Esther and Arabella haven’t been able to hold down any food.”

“Wake Mehmet. Have him ready the boat. He’ll have to sail downstream towards the palace and fetch Doctor Hamon.”

“I’m sorry,
Effendi
, but Mehmet is not well enough to sail.”

José pressed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.

“
Effendi
, if I may make a suggestion. I have accompanied Mehmet many times to the palace...”

“Can you man the boat?”

“I can. I’ll bring one of the younger boys to help me with the ropes.”

“All right. Wait just a minute.” José hurried into his study. He fumbled for a few moments for a scroll of parchment, then penned a short note to Doctor Hamon. He did not waste time with formalities. “La Señora in grave danger. Your assistance urgently needed. Yours, Don José Nissim.” He waited a moment for the ink to dry, then rolled the parchment and secured it with his seal.

As he did, Doña Antonia’s let out a piercing cry, rattling the walls and windows all throughout the grand villa.

For a long moment, José sat unmoved. He shook his head as though breaking free from that frozen state, then handed the scroll to the young man. “Hurry, Moise.”

“Yes,
Effendi
.” He bowed his head and left the room.

“
You
?” José asked once Moise had returned, not with Doctor Hamon, but with his son.

“Yes. My father sent me instead.”

“But where is he? Didn’t he read my message? This is an urgent matter! I need the best doctor in the city!”

“I understand your concern. I can assure you that I know what I’m doing. I’ve been practicing medicine for years, working and learning alongside my father. I know it’s a surprise to see me here, when you were expecting my father, but I
am
qualified. I’ve even treated the Sultan himself, on several different occasions.”

José examined the young doctor from head to heel. He stood there with his medicine kit hanging by his side, his shoulders squared and his chin elevated. In his house, here then was the man that was to have been Reyna’s husband. He felt as though fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

“Did your father say why he could not come himself?”

“He was not permitted to leave the palace. At least three physicians must always be present at Topkapi in the event that their services are needed by the Sultan. Of course he would be here if he could. We both know how deeply he cares for La Señor—”

“We’re wasting precious time,” José cut in. “Follow me.”

José led the young doctor up the marble flight of stairs and through to Doña Antonia’s bedchamber. As soon as he opened the door, they were hit with the stench of sweat and vomit.

“
Tia
?” José took a few steps towards her bed. “
Ti
a, the doctor is here to see you.”

When she did not respond, Doctor Hamon strode swiftly past José and laid the back of his hand on Doña Antonia’s forehead.

“Is she sleeping?” José asked the young doctor.

He raised her arm and felt for a pulse, then lowered his ear to her heart and listened for a beat. A long moment passed before the young doctor straightened up and turned to José. “I’m afraid it’s too late. La Señora has passed.”

“It can’t be.” José charged at the doctor. “She was alive just a moment ago, before you arrived. Check again!”

The young doctor lowered his voice. “I’m so sorry. There’s nothing that could have been done to save her.”

“If your father were here—”

“If my father were here, there would be nothing he could do either. We are doctors of the living. We cannot bring back the dead.”

José locked eyes with the doctor. The two men stood there, glaring at one another.

Quite suddenly, a loud cry sounded from down the hall.

“Reyna!” José sprinted from the room and shot down the hallway towards her chamber. He found her there sitting up in her bed. Her face was twisted in agony. Her hair was matted to her moist forehead.

“The baby!”

“But it’s not time yet?”

“He’s coming!”

“But the midwives, they’ve all fallen ill with the fever. We don’t have anyone to deliver the baby! It can’t be happening. Not now!”

Reyna grit her teeth and clenched her lids shut.

“I can deliver the baby,” the young doctor stepped in.

“You?” José scoffed at the notion. “No man will deliver my baby.”

“Don José, if you’ll allow me to be blunt, your wife’s life, and the life of the child are at stake. You’ve already lost one member of the family this evening. Let’s not lose another.”

“What did he say?” Reyna shouted out. “Who has been lost?”

“Everything is fine, Reyna.”

“Who is this man?” Her breathing began to quicken.

“This is Doctor Hamon’s son. He can deliver the baby.” He took her hands and brought them to his lips. “He has even treated the Sultan,” José forced himself to say the words. “You have the very best doctor in the city.”

“Doctor Hamon’s son?” Reyna’s voice grew faint. “He’s
here?
”

“Yes.” The young doctor cut in. “Don’t worry, Doña Reyna.” He took a few steps forward. “I’ve successfully delivered many babies. You’re going to be fine, and not very long from now, you will hold a baby in your arms.”

“I will?” Reyna’s eyes welled up.

He nodded gently, possessing the kind eyes and measured temperament of his father. “Try to steady your breathing.”