So, in the end, they all returned to Toulouse. Jehan seemed fascinated by Arnald’s lack of repentance. It was like seeing his own past madness from the outside. He hoped that in the time they had he could bring Arnald to a realization of the enormity of his crimes.
“Where will you go after this?” Solomon asked him one day.
“Not back to Paris, if you were worried.” Jehan laughed. “Perhaps return to Lisbon. The king offered land to those who fought for him. At the time, the plot didn’t seem big enough. Now I’m thinking it’s time for me to plant a fig tree, a few vines and settle. I’m not going to win an heiress and there’s only one I wanted anyway.”
“Good, I wish you well,” Solomon answered, meaning it, to his surprise.
In Pamplona, Yusef joined them on his way back from Tudela, where he had taken Babylonia’s body for burial.
“They wanted to bury her next to her husband.” He grunted. “I convinced her son to find her a better place. She will be honored as a martyr to the Holy Name.”
As they neared Toulouse, Solomon felt a growing dread. He saw it reflected in the faces of Aaron and Yusef. Arnald was a citizen, the son of a respected merchant and a Christian. His accusers were three Jews and two men from the North.
“Do you think he can convince the council that he’s innocent?” Aaron worried.
Jehan shook his head. “No. He’s proud of his crimes. He’ll boast of them. Let him talk long enough and everyone will see he’s mad.”
“I wish we could spare Belide from the scandal this will cause,” Aaron said. “She was trying to help me find Mayah. I know she had nothing to do with Victor’s death. Now she’ll not only have lost her betrothed, but her reputation.”
“Poor Samuel was only a suitor for Belide,” Solomon answered. “I’m sure she will grieve for him, but only as a friend. But I don’t know how we can keep her from being slandered by Arnald’s lies.”
Yusef had been listening. “People will talk, of course,” he said thoughtfully. “But if she were married soon, to someone respectable, the gossip might subside.”
Aaron looked at the man in alarm. “You aren’t thinking of offering for her, are you?”
“And why not?” Yusef said. “I’m a man of property and I have no one to share it with. Bonysach might welcome me as a son-in-law.”
“But you’re older than he is!” Aaron was shocked.
“Not quite,” Yusef answered. “And Belide might like the thought of being a rich widow.”
He smiled at Aaron, seemingly oblivious to the younger man’s reaction.
Solomon had watched the exchange with interest. Aaron was more than upset by the idea of Belide marrying Yusef. He looked like a man watching his home burn to the ground.
This was something that Josta and Bonysach should know about.
For once, Jehan’s prediction was correct. When Arnald was brought before the council of Toulouse, he condemned himself. Even his own father couldn’t defend him.
“This is not my son!” he wept after Arnald had confessed with pride to tricking and then attacking Berengar. “This is a devil in his body. What did you do with my boy, you evil monster!?”
He would have run a sword through Arnald, himself, if his friends hadn’t restrained him.
Arnald’s fate was sealed. Out of sympathy for his family, the body was cut down from the gibbet after only a week of dangling.
Solomon had done his best to avoid Belide during this time. Mayah and Zaida had been given shelter at a home near the synagogue. While waiting for the messenger to return with word from her relatives, Zaida spent her days learning more about the people of Toulouse.
“It’s interesting,” she told Mayah. “I always heard that the Farangi were beasts who never washed and ate their food like pigs.”
“Yes, I did too,” Mayah said. “It is true that pigs are a large part of their diet.”
“And they don’t wash as often as we do,” Zaida agreed. “But really, they don’t seem that much different from us otherwise.”
“Yes, it’s a shame they’re Christian.” Mayah sighed. “If not for that, they’d be quite nice.”
Finally Solomon could put it off no longer. He went to visit Belide. To his surprise, Aaron was just leaving as he arrived.
“How are your wedding plans going?” he asked.
Aaron mumbled something he couldn’t catch and hurried off. Solomon went on into the courtyard.
“Belide?” he said softly.
She was sitting on a bench, her back to him. Her head and shoulders were bowed in an attitude of sorrow. When she heard his voice, she straightened at once and turned to him with a smile.
“I was wondering if you were angry with me,” she started.
“Of course not!” he said. “I never thought of it. I didn’t want to intrude on your grief.”
She sighed. “Arnald always said he loved me, but I thought it was one of his jokes. After all, he had that nobleman’s wife. I never guessed that there was such evil inside him. To have killed poor Victor! They had been friends since they were children.”
“Whatever he did, it’s not your fault,” Solomon said.
“I know, everyone tells me that,” she answered. “He fooled us all. But I’ll always wonder if there was something I missed that could have prevented all of this. I should never have agreed to go with him to meet Brother Victor.”
“To be honest, I don’t know why you did,” Solomon said. “Although I’m beginning to guess.”
Belide looked away from him. He could see the blush rise from her neck to her cheeks.
“Yes, that was stupid,” she whispered. “I was being valiant, I thought, helping Aaron to rescue his beloved.”
“Very self-sacrificing of you,” Solomon commented.
Belide winced. “Yes, and now it turns out that she refuses to marry him. How could she? The poor man is heart-broken. He’s just been telling me all about it.”
“Has he?” Solomon gave a smile of satisfaction. “Then you must understand how she feels.”
“I suppose so,” Belide said wistfully. “But if he had done that for me…”
“The next time he visits,” Solomon suggested, “why don’t you tell him that?”
He returned to the synagogue to see his uncle. He wasn’t surprised to find Mayah with him, the two of them reading together. Hubert had a blanket over his shoulders and warm slippers on his feet. Solomon felt sure that this was Mayah’s doing. She had cared for her father in much the same way. He decided not to interrupt them but his shadow fell across the page and they looked up.
Mayah gave him a rapturous smile. “Solomon, Rav Chaim is going to take me back to Lunel with him!”
Hubert nodded. “I owe it to my old friend Yishmael to see that his daughter is taken care of. And,” he added with a smile, “she can teach me the new mathematics and read to me when my eyes grow too tired.”
“I’m happy for both of you,” Solomon said. “And I know Catherine will be comforted to know that someone is there to care for her father, since she can’t be.”
“That reminds me,” Mayah said. “Someone was looking for you. He came to the house of study while Rav Chaim was napping.”
“What did he look like?” Solomon asked.
“A tall man, very, very pale,” Mayah started.
“Edgar!” both men said together. “Where did he go?” Solomon added.
“He said you’d find him at the best tavern in town,” she answered, puzzled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you at once. Will he wait?”
“Of course.” Hubert stood up and shooed Solomon out. “Hurry! Bring him back with you. I want to hear all the news!”
Solomon spotted him at once, sitting at a table outside under the awning.
“Edgar!” he shouted. “What are you doing here? Is Catherine all right?”
The man looked up, revealing a pale face with a sunburnt nose.
“About time you got here!” he said. “Come, sit down, have som
e cool wine and tell me all that has happened. And yes, Catherine is fine, back in Paris and very great with child. She’s at the point where looking at me just reminds her of how she got that way so she sent me back to get you and the goods from Almeria but I’m under orders to be home by St. John’s Eve. She insists that’s when the child will be born. So, what have you been doing? How was the journey to Spain?”
“Order another pitcher, Edgar.” Solomon sat down. “This will take awhile.”
Solomon spent the afternoon telling Edgar all that had happened. There was only one thing that Edgar found impossible to believe.
“Jehan.” Edgar shook his head. “He was the sane one?”
“Next to Arnald and Babylonia, he was amazingly reliable,” Solomon said. “I might not have survived without him.”
“It must have been hell,” Edgar said. “I should have been with you. I might have been able to intercede for you with Brother James.”
“Don’t harrow yourself up about it,” Solomon said. “There was never a time between us where intercession would have done any good.”
“I’m sorry,” Edgar said. “I know what it is to have a father you can never like.”
Solomon had forgotten. Now he remembered Edgar’s father. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s good not to be told that I should try to forgive.”
Edgar and Solomon set out the next week to finish the journey they had started months before.
“Stop here on your way back,” Bonysach told them. “We may have a betrothal to announce.”
He gestured toward the garden, where Aaron and Belide were in deep discussion. “My daughter marrying a Cohen! Imagine!”
A few nights later they stopped at Cabo-la-Puente.
“You know a good inn here, don’t you?” Edgar asked.
“I do,” Solomon said. “Just over there.”
Just then a small form came out the door and saw him. Her mouth open in a wide grin, she came running across the grass with a lopsided, floppy gait.
“What in the world is that?” Edgar asked.
Solomon stretched out his arms, overjoyed that she recognized him. She held up her hands for him to lift her. He wiped her nose, kissed her, and smoothed her hair. Then he held her out for his friend to admire.
“Edgar,” he said. “I would like you to meet my daughter, Anna.”
Afterword
Those of you who have followed this series from the beginning may be missing Catherine in this one. There are two reasons why she isn’t in this book. The first is that I’ve been wanting for some time to give Solomon a turn of his own. The second is that Catherine, being an ardent wife, keeps getting pregnant and she really wanted some maternity leave. So I gave it to her. And, for those who can’t wait to find out, the new baby, born on St. John’s Eve, as she predicted, is a boy. They name him Peter, after their mentor Peter Abelard. Heloise is delighted to be the godmother.
Now, unlike earlier books, The Outcast Dove does not concern particular historical people or events. The germ of the story came from research in early Cistercian records made by my friend, Fr. Chrysogonus Waddell. I am grateful to him for not trying to cover up his discovery of a brothel for the Moslem workers that the monks in Spain permitted. I have slandered the monastery of Fitero. As far as I know, they did not have a brothel there. There was one at a Cistercian abbey in Aragon, though a bit later, so there is a precedent. Mayah’s story is also my own invention, but it’s not impossible that a Jewish woman might have been taken with Moslem ones. There would have been little difference between them in the minds of the Christian conquerors. The ruling concerning a Cohen’s wife is in the Mishnah and various commentaries. The character of Babylonia is from a Responsum in which complaints were made about a Christian servant.
As always, I have about ten times more material than I could put in the book. I’m sure you’re grateful that I exercised some restraint. I became fascinated by the life in Toulouse at this time. Although I don’t believe they ever formed a commune like the cities in the North, for about seventy years Toulouse was governed by an elected body of “Good Men” drawn from both the nobility and the burghers. This republican government was ended by the invasion of the French during the Albigensian Crusade. For a very readable and fascinating history of this, I recommend the books of John Hine Mundy.
One last piece of trivia that I couldn’t find room for but am determined to share: at this time rice was considered Jewish food. Since it wasn’t one of the grains forbidden at Passover, Jews in Spain, Italy, Sicily, and Provence ate it during that time. I haven’t been able to find out how they cooked it for sure, but Rashi says it was boiled and therefore he was sure it wouldn’t sprout.
Finally, thanks to all of you for your continuing interest in this series. You can find bibliographies, photos, and further information on my Web site http://www.hevanet.com/sharan/.
Also by Sharan Newman from Tom Doherty Associates
Catherine LeVendeur Mysteries
Death Comes as Epiphany
The Devil’s Door
The Wandering Arm
Strong as Death
Cursed in the Blood
The Difficult Saint
To Wear the White Cloak
Heresy
Guinevere
Guinevere
The Chessboard Queen
Guinevere Evermore
Acknowledgments
This book would not have started and could not have been finished without the help of the following people. I can’t thank them enough for their generosity in sharing their expertise. As always, any errors in this book are due to my own perversity or lack of comprehension, not their advice.
Fr. Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C.S.O., Gethsemani Abbey, Kentucky, for finding the evidence for the fate of Mayah and Zaida. I never would have believed it of the Cistercians if he hadn’t found the proof.
Prof. Fredric Cheyette, Amherst College, for giving me an introduction to the wonderful people at FRAMESPA in Toulouse. Anyone wanting to know more about the south of France in the twelfth century should get his recent book, Ermengard of Narbonne and the World of the Troubadours (Cornell University Press). You don’t need a degree to enjoy it.
Prof. Bernard Cursente, Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, FRAMESPA (France Méridionale et Espagne), for welcoming me to Toulouse and allowing me to use the library at the Institute.
Dr. Laurent Macé, University of Toulouse-le-Mirail, for advising me on my research. His book on the entourage of the counts of Toulouse, Les comtes de Toulouse et leur entourage (Editions Privat), was invaluable to me, as was his help.
Mme. Claire Vernon, Ingénieur FRAMESPA, Toulouse, for her patience, friendship, and especially for trusting me with the keys to the library during the lunch hour.
Prof. John Hine Mundy, Columbia University, emeritus, who has done the most comprehensive work on medieval Toulouse in English (and possibly any language) for instant answers to my rather bizarre questions.
Prof. Lynn Nelson, University of Kansas, emeritus, for giving me the background on Fitero and the monastery there.
Prof. Olivia Remy Constable, University of Notre Dame, for telling me who would have bought Moslem slave women and sold them to the monks.
The hardest part of this book was finding Provençal Jewish customs in the twelfth century. There is little documentation remaining and so opinions varied. The following scholars very kindly gave me the benefit of their work:
Prof. Judith Baskin, University of Oregon, who not only helped with information on women, but also copied and sent articles that I needed.
Prof. Elka Klein, University of Cincinnati, for advice on women and ritual.
Prof. Susan Einbinder, Hebrew Union University, Cincinnati, for always being available to answer questions and for finding me a Hebrew translator. Her new book Beautiful Death (Princeton University Press) sounds like a mystery but is a fascinating study of Jewish poetry and martyr
dom in medieval France.
Oran Hayden, Hebrew Union University, Cincinnati, for searching through difficult articles and medieval commentaries to find information and quotes and sending them to me in Hebrew with translations.
Prof. Sholmo Pick, Bar Ilan University, Israel, who answered an Internet query on the Jews of Provence, not knowing what he was getting into. I hope that his dissertation on the subject will soon be available in more than photocopies.
Dr. Gillian Pollack, independent scholar and author, Australia. Since all our correspondence was by e-mail, I never did find out exactly where she is. But her advice on burial practices was invaluable.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE OUTCAST DOVE
Copyright © 2003 by Sharan Newman
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
The quotation from Judah Halevi is from The Gazelle by Raymond P.
Scheindlin, Jewish Publication Society, 1991, used by permission.
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
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Forge® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Newman, Sharan.
The outcast dove / Sharan Newman.—1st. ed.
p. cm.
“A Forge book”—T.p. verso.
ISBN: 978-0-765-30377-6
1. LeVendeur, Catherine (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Christian converts from Judaism—Fiction. 3. Women detectives—France—Fiction. 4. Jewish families—Fiction. 5. Jews—Spain—Fiction. 6. Middle Ages—Fiction. I. Title.
The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Page 35
