"She's upset from yesterday; it's not your fault," Rivka reminded him. "She takes it out on you because you're close by."
"I just want to make sure she's okay." Eli ran his fingers through his hair. "She's needed so much comforting lately. I mean, she's usually pretty emotional anyway, and I hope I've been there enough for her—"
"I'm sure she knows how much you care about her," said Shulamit. "You barely leave her side."
"So you understand why I feel abandoned right now. Maybe a little unappreciated, especially since here I am, traveling with her in the middle of my studies." He looked around himself. "I hope she makes it back to the inn in time for Shabbat dinner. Sometimes I feel like she'd skip meals to practice if I didn't make sure she ate. I mean—What am I saying? She doesn't have anything to practice on right now."
Rivka tried to imagine being so caught up in practicing her swordsmanship that she skipped a meal but decided that the activity was too physical to permit such excesses. "She can maybe borrow one from Tzuriel ben Kofi in the meantime," she commented.
Eli glanced at the music shop. "That's why I thought she might be here."
Rivka, feeling an undercurrent of anger coming from him that she couldn't explain, found herself saying, "I just bought something from him myself." She jerked her thumb at the steel drum strapped to her back. "We have such a wonderful marketplace here, with so many things from across the world—but I'd never seen one of these until today!"
"Yes, it's a very nice market," Eli agreed, the mysterious negativity subsiding.
"You bought her a scarf here yesterday, right?" Shulamit asked.
Eli nodded. "Yes, somewhere on the southeast corner."
"That's where we're headed!" Shulamit looked at Rivka. "Maybe I'll stop in there if there's time after we talk to Gershom. Aviva's overdue for a surprise."
"Lead on, Malkeleh," said Rivka, eyeing the sky. They still had plenty of time to get back to the palace before sundown, and religion was far more relaxed here than it had been in her homeland, but it gave her a certain sense of devoutness and respect to mark the customs even if they weren't being strictly observed.
"Please take us there, Eli," said Shulamit. "Just so I don't embarrass myself poking around in the wrong shop looking for something that isn't there."
"And you'll get a chance to see the whole market, to look for Esther," added Rivka.
"Oh—yes! Uh, this way."
Rivka noticed him cast one final look at the music shop as they followed him down the street. It suddenly occurred to her that Tzuriel was an unmarried man, and that Eli might have realized the very same thing.
Chapter 9: Simple Gifts
Esther didn't realize how quietly she'd entered the music shop until she saw Tzuriel start. He gathered himself quickly and waved in greeting. "How long have you been there?"
"I just walked in." She bit her lower lip and looked away, her gaze sweeping over the rows of instruments. Looking at him felt complicated for some reason. Realizing her mouth had spread into an involuntary smile, she decided it must be from being around so many musical instruments. She wasn't sure what she was feeling anymore—was Eli right, that she was destroying herself with worry? That it would be healthier for her this way, to take some time off from performing? But—surely not. Not when stepping into a music store made her feel light-headed and a little bit like a Purim carnival inside.
Are you sure that's all it is? The smile renewed itself as she pictured Tzuriel, at a safe distance beside her, polishing a drum. Even though she wasn't looking at him, she was acutely aware of his presence. Uh-oh.
"Any news from the queen?"
She jerked her head back in his direction, reminding herself not to give in to silly thoughts, that she wasn't about to be disloyal to Eli just because he was... playing sour notes this particular afternoon. "No, nothing." Her smile had fallen away.
"You know, if you want—" He stepped closer and her breathing deepened. "—I have plenty of instruments. You can try out any one you like. Any one you think will work for you. Just tell me what you like in a violin, what characteristics you need, and I bet I'll be able to find something in my stock—at least for now."
"I—Thank you." Esther looked away. "I don't know if I can bear to think of shopping for a new one just yet." She adjusted the blue scarf around her neck as if it would somehow protect her from the way he was making her feel. "Wow, I didn't realize how many different kinds of instruments you had in here. From all over the world."
"That's what happens when you travel," Tzuriel replied genially. "Everything from my hometown's drums to flutes from places so cold they don't even take off their clothing to have babies."
She giggled at the unexpected image. "How do they keep their fingers from getting too stiff to play?"
"They have special gloves with no fingertips," he explained. "I have some in my stock, but I don't show them when I'm here in civilized countries." He rummaged around in a small trunk that she hadn't noticed earlier. "What do you think?"
"They're beautiful!" With wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth, she beheld the intricate embroidery of the fine textiles. "May I?" When he nodded, she felt the fabric between her fingers. "That's as soft as rabbits!"
"It comes from the musk ox," he told her.
"What's that?"
"It's a big hairy beast, like a cow—but fatter and hairier. And softer, and warmer." Then he chuckled. "Like me, maybe."
"This is so soft," Esther prattled.
Stop it, she said to herself. Just because Eli said the way you were acting about your violin proved that you needed some distance from it doesn't mean you have the right to go embarrassing him like this. Look at how much he cares about you. He's traveling with you when he could be at home, getting ready for his law exams. He's worried about you.
"Have you ever seen one of these before?" Tzuriel took the gloves from her with one hand, and in the other, he held up a gourd with some thin strips of metal stretched across its opening.
Esther shook her head. "What is it?"
"The two names I know for it are mbira and kalimba. Listen." Tzuriel put the gloves down and lifted his other hand to the little gourd. He cupped it in his hands and began to play the keys with his thumbs.
She watched him, captivated. What he played was innocent, yet haunting—rhythmic, yet soothing. It stilled the whirring of her tormented mind. Before long, she felt the stinging of tears in her eyes.
She didn't even realize she was reaching out for it until he stopped playing, mid-melody, and held it out to her. A welcoming smile on his face echoed his motions. "Try it." From anyone else, those words might have been a command, but here, it was consent. He was consenting to what she realized she was asking with her outstretched hand—and probably with her face too.
With her thumbs on the metal keys, she plucked a few notes. "Oh! They alternate," she realized out loud.
"Yes, to make it easier to play quickly."
More notes poured from her hands. She felt him close by and she was scared, but she held in her hands the source of her own strength, something with which she could create beautiful sounds. "It's so new and different."
"Sometimes people need a little different."
Eli thinks I need a lot of different, for my own good. She played faster, losing herself in sound, regrowing her missing wings.
"Esther, may I give this to you?"
"What?" She stopped playing and turned her face to his. Long rays from a setting sun slipped into the shop and hit her eyes just right, and she squinted and turned away.
"I know it can't replace your fiddle. But you deserve to be happy. And it's not that expensive anyway."
"I—" There were all kinds of reasons she should refuse. "Thank you!"
"It's a pleasure, really."
"Thank you," she repeated. "I'd... the sun is setting. I should get out of your way so you can pack up for Shabbat."
Tzuriel smiled and nodded. "Shabbat shalom."
"Thank y
ou," she said again and left the shop with the curious feeling that she was escaping from something. But she held the kalimba to her chest, wrapped carefully in the new blue scarf.
***
Shulamit dismissed Eli after he had shown her the shop that had sold him Esther's pretty blue scarf. As he headed off in the direction of the inn, she turned to her guards. "Maybe I'll have time to go in there after I talk to Gershom. The one in green looks like Aviva's style."
"We'd better get moving, then," said Rivka. "It's late."
"There's Gershom," said Isaac with a gesture.
Gershom was standing on the lip of his stall, chatting with a flamboyant woman who hovered just outside the lip of the stall next door. She was in the middle of a peal of raucous laughter when the royal party approached, accompanied by one of those affectionate swats of the hand that women sometimes do when a man has said something they want to pretend they've found outrageous.
"Oh! Your Majesty! So you've come to see my merchandise?" Gershom was all smiles and deference.
The woman bowed slightly. "Majesty." Shulamit noticed that she had a couple of jeweled barrettes in her hair that looked like Gershom's handiwork.
"Do you know Dafna?" Gershom asked Shulamit.
"I think so. Your husband is the horse doctor, right?"
"Yes! That's me." Dafna stepped back slightly into her stall so that she could spread out her hands at her merchandise. "I sell scents. Scents and soap—massage oils, perfume—anything you might need to smell nice."
"She started making it because her husband came home smelling so badly from the horses," quipped Gershom.
Dafna grinned at him wickedly. "I need it, working next to you, you big stinker!"
He smiled back at her, then returned his attention to the queen. "So, what did you want to see?"
"I'm just here to observe," Shulamit said serenely and peered around his shop. Business seemed to be healthy but not overwhelming; a very old woman was peering carefully at a display of earrings, and a pair of young people was looking at rings together. She noticed a display of necklaces, but nobody was looking at them. Maybe that meant something, but then, she was only stopping by for a brief interlude.
"Majesty, here, I'd love for you to try something."
"What?" Shulamit turned and realized that Dafna had followed her inside the jewelry shop. Instinctively she receded slightly toward where Rivka and Isaac were standing.
"Here." Dafna dipped a glass wand inside a bottle and then held the wand up toward Shulamit's face—still, thankfully, at a respectful distance. "Smell this." From the look on her face she clearly felt confident it would be a winner.
Shulamit leaned forward and sniffed out of politeness, and had to conceal her surprise when she found she actually truly liked the scent. "That smells delicious! Like—baking. Is it cardamom?"
Dafna beamed, revealing a chipped tooth. "See? You know your stuff! You like it?"
"I do," Shulamit admitted. "What is it, perfume?"
"I have a perfume and a soap, and... I think I might have some of it left in the scented oil." She bustled back into her shop and began to rummage.
"Wait." Shulamit walked toward her with one hand up. "Do you have anything with ylang-ylang?"
"Of course! Everybody loves that. Old favorite."
"I'd like to smell the ylang-ylang massage oil." This way she could still buy something for Aviva without worrying about the scarf-seller packing up shop for sundown before she was ready to stop spying on Gershom.
"Decadent yet ladylike," Dafna commented, uncorking the bottle.
Shulamit grinned in spite of herself, thinking of how those words might very well apply to herself.
Rivka and Isaac drew nearer as Shulamit started counting out coins, and Dafna, who had been treating them as if they were part of the queen's clothing, suddenly registered their presence. "Gentlemen! Can I interest you in any scents? Maybe I have one that might enhance your... natural power!" She waved her hands around.
"I can pick up for my mother some more lavender soap," Rivka commented.
"Wonderful plan, Captain! Such a devoted son." Dafna fussed over her merchandise. "Now, let me see. Where did I...?"
While she searched, Shulamit scanned the names of the other scents. Litchi—one of her favorites. Rose. Jasmine. Clove. Magnolia. Pear. Raspberry.
Dafna saw her looking. "Which one do you have there?"
"Raspberry," said Shulamit.
"Ah!" said Dafna. "They don't grow down here. Too warm. I have to bring them in dried to make the scent. They grow straight out of the earth like little red jewels, each on top of a single flower that rises up out of the ground..." Here she mimed the actions of the imaginary flower, her hands spreading to represent blooming petals. "And at the center of the flower—one raspberry each!"
Shulamit, who knew better, shot a look at Rivka and Isaac. Rivka looked stony-faced; Isaac was smirking. They came from colder lands where raspberry brambles grew.
"Oops, there's the lavender. I'd stuck it in the wrong slot." Dafna grinned at them sheepishly.
"Thank you," said Rivka, handing over a coin and accepting the soap.
They drifted back into Gershom's shop. "She got you, didn't she?" He was grinning.
"The stuff sells itself," Dafna called over from the next stall.
"Did you want to look at anything in particular?" Gershom asked the queen.
"Yes. Hang on. I need my hands." She unwrapped the sling in which Naomi was riding and placed the infant crown princess delicately into Isaac's waiting arms. "I'd like to see a sample of your earrings, hair barrettes, shoe buckles, and one of those necklaces, of course."
"Certainly, Majesty."
Gershom turned to his stock, but she interrupted him. "No, wait. I'd like to choose them myself." He bowed in assent and withdrew backward to give her room.
She pored over the rows of earrings until she'd found the pair that looked as though it had the most sophisticated construction, then did the same with the barrettes and shoe buckles. Of the necklaces she wasn't so choosy, since she already knew about the clasp of questionable parentage.
"I'm just stepping into the light for a moment."
"Of course, Majesty, I trust you."
The outside light wasn't as helpful as it would have been earlier in the day, but it was better than inside the shop. She was able to get a good enough look, though, and carefully studied the design of each piece. The barrette seemed simple to open and close but was based on a completely different mechanism than the clasp of the necklace. The earrings were based on the screw principle and struck her as complicated and fiddly, rather than geared toward ease of use.
She walked back into the shop. "Thank you," she said to Gershom, dumping the pile of shiny objects into his waiting hands.
"Of course, Majesty. Will we see you again soon? I've just bought several tiny pale purple stones from across the mountains—I know that's your favorite."
"Mmm," she murmured absently. "I'm still researching you two."
"Oh, that!" Gershom shrugged dismissively. "He's just jealous. Haven't you ever had anyone be jealous of you before? Some woman, maybe?"
"Probably, but my world is more about women working together so we can all be better off. Speaking of which, it's time I got home for Shabbat. Aviva said she was working on a special surprise."
"Ooh, then don't be late! Shabbat shalom, Your Majesty! Captain, Sir." He bowed to the northerners as well as the royal party left the shop.
"Nu?" asked Isaac, bouncing Naomi slightly against his broad chest as they walked back to the palace.
"I could go either way, honestly," said Shulamit with some dismay. "The earrings show great skill and workmanship, but they're an absolute mess to open and close. The barrette was easy to open and close like the necklace, but it wasn't based on the same design. I keep changing my mind."
"He had plenty of customers," Rivka pointed out.
"But nobody was buying the necklaces," countered Isaac
.
"Honestly? They're not as pretty as Zev's," said Shulamit.
"Isn't that subjective?" said Rivka.
"Probably, but it would explain why he stole the clasp design—to get a leg up on Zev's necklaces since his own weren't selling well enough on their own." Shulamit stretched. "If he stole it, I mean. And he's definitely been pushing them since the new clasp came out—that woman in Zev's stall had heard of it from Gershom first!"
"What do you think Aviva's surprise is going to be?" Rivka wondered out loud as the palace came into view before them.
"I know what it is, but she swore me to secrecy in case it doesn't work," Isaac piped up.
Shulamit grinned in anticipation and patted the ylang-ylang massage oil in her bag.
Chapter 10: Remember the Sabbath Day to Keep It Holy
Aviva sat in her kitchen-house, trying to distract herself by reading romances. The surprise for Shulamit sat on the table before her, looming in golden splendor like a newly built palace in heaven, but it had no purpose until the time came for it to light up the queen's eyes. Driven by a zeal for bringing joy to her sweetheart, and for feeding and fueling that great brain of hers that ceaselessly worked like a team of little mice digging at the earth, she'd outdone herself. She'd had help, true, but then, that was what it was to be human—to need others, and to be needed by them in return.
Aviva loved being needed.
The story she was reading was very silly, but for someone who worked as hard as she did—especially now that they had a baby daughter to take care of—it was perfect in its shallowness. She wished she could find more stories about women loving each other, of course, but she'd had boyfriends before she met Shulamit and could appreciate a "rugged farmer" or a "handsome prince" well enough. Of course, none of the handsome princes ever seemed to do anything for their country, the way Shulamit was devoted to hers. Shulamit took her role as chief arbiter of justice in the realm of Perach very seriously, which was why she was out so late this afternoon.
A Harvest of Ripe Figs Page 6
