Kitan didn’t turn out to be much of a threat. A few stern looks and mentions of Samara’s big strong cousins and uncles had been enough to put him in his place. Still, she was relieved that he was gone.
In the courtyard, sorting the hides she had bought from him, she stroked their rich surfaces with pleasure. Ephraim walked in, his curly red-gold hair disheveled. She was concerned because his round face was unusually serious.
“Ephraim! Look at these hides! I just made an excellent deal.” His face lit up; Samara liked the way he responded to her successes. Some day he’ll make good money in this business. He was sixteen now, the same age she was when she entered the trade. When Ephraim’s uncle Naftali took him in, Samara made sure that Naftali had Ephraim trained in accounting, and he’d shown a natural talent for it. With every deal Samara made, she gave him more work: entries for her many ledgers. “I bought all these hides from Kitan for almost nothing!”
He nodded, yet his face was still solemn, and this troubled her; he was usually light-hearted, prankish. She froze when she saw who was following him: Tobias, Caleb’s brother, tall, straight as a cedar: the man who would have become her brother-in-law were it not for the Romans.
It always unnerved her to see Tobias. He was in his early twenties, strong and commanding beyond his years, and was studying to be a rabbi like his father. If Caleb hadn’t been enslaved by Rome, she’d have become a part of Tobias’ family. What would it be like to see him and his kin all the time? She’d never know, and it hurt. She was afraid that Tobias might learn about her many meetings with Caleb’s radical friends, men who carried out anti-Roman irritations, some of which she paid for. Tobias never approved of their people engaging in anti-Roman activity.
Before she could speak, Tobias said, “Samara, did you hear what they’re saying: that a man leading a flock of Hebrews fought with a Roman patrol and broke into the Jupiter temple?”
“Then I must be a man, and I must be a flock,” she blurted out with a laugh, immediately shocked and surprised at her words, regretting them even as they came out. Now I’ve exposed myself.
“No!” Tobias exclaimed. “Say it isn’t so, Samara! Tell us you had nothing to do with it.”
Her smile vanished. “I’m not ashamed of what I did, Tobias. It was the only way I could find out if what your brother said about Roman thievery was true.”
“Oh. I see. You mean the rumor Caleb told you about the Romans storing stolen goods in their sanctuary. Well, don’t you blame Caleb for things he said years ago! I don’t relish you making my brother responsible for your reckless stunts.”
Ephraim asked, “But Samara, are you all right? Were you hurt?”
“Oh, I’m fine. A centurion chased me, but it was easy to get away from him.” Touched by the way Ephraim worried about her, she still wished she could make him stop.
“Did you find any clues about the thefts?” Ephraim asked.
Tobias was glowering at her. She had to change the subject somehow, yet it seemed impossible. Nevertheless, she had to try. There was no way she was ready to explain to Tobias what she had been doing against the Romans!
Maybe if she just addressed Ephraim, Tobias would let the subject go. She knew it was a foolish hope. The man was relentless.
“Dear cousin Ephraim,” she said in soothing tones, “please relax. I found nothing in the temple. Only Roman things. Really, now, let the issue be closed. Ephraim, would you tell me about this month’s books and accounts? Do you have them done?”
“No, I’m not finished with them yet.”
“You have to work harder, Ephraim, or you won’t keep up with all the orders I’m getting.”
Ephraim met her gaze in a level way she hadn’t seen him do before. Was he growing up? “Cousin,” Ephraim said, “we didn’t come to talk about work. We came to tell you about the raid and how it might affect us all. But now, instead, you tell us you did it! Were you really alone?”
She nodded. Now she was on the spot.
“You could have been captured!” Ephraim went on, while Tobias stared in silence.
“Yet I wasn’t, was I?” she declared defensively. Why won’t they acknowledge that I was in the right?
Tobias said, “The point is that you’ve put us all at risk. The Romans are saying that the Zealots are on the rise again. It’s only a matter of time before they crack down on all of us, thanks to you.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. He was right. “I never thought of that at the time, Tobias. I’m sorry. Truly, I was trying to help our people, not hurt them.”
Tobias gave her a sharp and appraising look. “Perhaps now you’ll be honest with us. Tell us exactly what happened.”
It was humiliating, yet now she couldn’t avoid it. She had to tell them about her effort at the Jupiter temple, so inconsequential and futile. But she still had to make sure he didn’t suspect anything about the radicals she privately talked with, the other attacks against Rome she’d been financing.
Rubbing her scalp with both hands, she took a deep breath.
“All right. I managed to get into the inner chamber, and all I saw were some vases painted with fat Roman gods. There was a bad smell and a few chicken bones. It was disgusting. Then, when a centurion appeared in the doorway. I had to push my way past him, and he didn’t so much as draw his sword; I have no idea why. Outside, I passed a squad of soldiers at the temple steps, and they paid no attention to me because they were so busy brawling with a Hebrew road crew. The awful thing is that I dropped Caleb’s rod in that building. Now the Romans have it.”
“You must never, never put us at risk again,” Tobias insisted.
Ephraim’s young face looked uncharacteristically pained. “Yes, cousin, and don’t risk your life again! Don’t worry that you dropped Caleb’s rod. You had to get out of there. They could have caught you easily.”
“Ephraim, don’t say ‘easily.’ You underestimate me.”
Tobias said, “Of course, Samara, my brother Caleb wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed.” I can’t argue with that.
He rose to his feet. “However, Samara, you realize that I’m going to have to let Caleb know about your folly.”
She straightened up, staring him in the eye. “No, Tobias. You do not have to tell Caleb about what I’ve done. I know you think it would punish me for you to tell him, but all you’d do is worry him. And Tobias …” She drew near him. “You know that I still feel deeply for him. Do tell him to write to me more frequently. I miss him.”
Tobias opened and shut his mouth without speaking. Shaking his head, he abruptly left the courtyard without another word. Samara stared after him, feeling angry and helpless.
“Samara,” said Ephraim, “don’t forget that Caleb is a slave for life. He probably hasn’t written you much because he doesn’t want you to keep your hopes up.”
“Is Tobias ever going to change?” Samara asked resentfully, while a cloud of half-formed accusations and pleas beat against her mind like moths against a windowpane. “So stiff and cautious! Why can’t he be more like his brother Caleb – brave and daring?”
“Actually, all Caleb did was poison a few horses, and he got himself caught,” Ephraim offered dryly.
Scowling at him, she said, “It troubled the Romans, Ephraim! It’s more than Tobias ever did. We should all be doing more against them!” Biting her lip, she immediately regretted her words. She’d need to be more cautious for awhile in what she said and did. She now had family and friends keeping a watchful eye on her. Certainly, she didn’t want anyone in her clan, not even her dear kinsman Ephraim, to figure out that she’d been using money from the family business to foment schemes against the Romans. Her father and most of her cousins and uncles strongly opposed the Romans, but even so, they’d never tolerate such a thing from her.
“I could tell how upset you were,” said Ephraim. “You were rubbing your scalp as you spoke to Tobias. I’ve only seen you do that when you’re practically beside yourself. Don’t be so hard on Tobias. He’s only trying to keep us safe. And speaking of being safe, Samara, I think you were protected by the angels last night. The way Esther was, in scripture. You’re trying to help your people, just like she did.”
She laughed, blushing. “Esther was a great queen. I’m an ordinary merchant.”
“Hardly ordinary. You’re a great woman. Anyway, I should remind you that cousin Gershon is coming this morning for your regular business meeting. It’s almost time for him to arrive.”
“I’d forgotten,” she groaned. Is there anyone I want to see less?
“Samara, just ignore Gershon’s attitudes. He’s so infuriated by your trading skill that he doesn’t even see your sweet smile or your dimples, let alone your greatness.”
She brightened. “Oh, Ephraim. How is it that your sense of humor always makes me happy, even when I have to deal with Gershon?”
“He’s so jealous of your business abilities! You’re famous for them.”
“Notorious is more like it. You’re kind, Ephraim.” She wanted to say “You’re my favorite kinsman,” but didn’t want to embarrass him.
Her father Isaac strode into the courtyard, and at the sight of Ephraim his face lit up. “Nephew. It’s good to see you.” He regarded Samara cautiously. “Daughter, are you well today?”
Samara looked at the floor, feeling affection, fear and resentment battling inside her. It wouldn’t be long before he found out about her escapade in the Roman temple. “Good morning, Father.” He was such a good man, so racked with tragedy and loss. Yet that didn’t excuse what he was trying to do to her. Marrying her off to a bloated and dismal creature! He had recently announced his plan for her at the meeting of the city merchants, and it made them gleeful. Thinking of it, her fury rose.
She declared, "Father, I ought to leave your house for good because of the way you disrespect me in trying to marry me to Hod. Did you see how the merchants gloated when you told them?”
Isaac sighed. “Please don’t make it more difficult. Leave my house and go on your own? Samara, you couldn’t do that. You know it would be too dangerous. In Judea, a woman needs the protection of a husband or a father. I’m on my way to the market to look at some bottles. Do you have shekels for me, a few score?”
“Yes.” She dug in her shoulder bag and found a pouch full of silver shekels which she tossed to him. “Nonetheless, Father, you shouldn’t consider marrying me to a man I don’t love. Bottles for what?”
“Bottles for the oils. Olive oil. Nard oil. Samara, I have to get you married before you get any older, and as much as I regret it, I must get you out of the family business.”
“But I cannot leave my business, Father! I love it too much. And your revenues would decline too much.” So would mine – and how would I finance harassing the Romans?
“Samara,” he continued, unperturbed, “when you marry Hod, I know you’ll be able to do some work in his camel trading business; he’s told me as much. If you refuse, though, you’ll soon be too old to marry, and there’ll be nothing for you to do except keep house for me. Much as I’d love to have you at home, I don’t think you’d want that.”
He was right; she didn’t relish the thought of living alone with her father with no real work to do. “Father, I’ve been your trader since I was sixteen. You know you appreciate the money I make for you. There must be a good man for me, one who would respect my work.”
“None have been forthcoming. Hod is the closest.”
“Hod is fat and ugly. He’s crude.”
“Samara,” he said gently, “unfortunately, suitors stay away from you. People say your work and your attitudes are wrong for a woman. Did you know that even our long-term customers have started to talk unfavorably about you?”
“It’s not so,” she said scornfully.
Ephraim said brightly, “But Uncle, she just made a lucrative deal with Kitan, the Silk Road trader.”
Isaac’s eyebrows rose. “Did she?”
“Yes, I did. It proves once again what I can do. I want both my job and my independence, Father.”
When she saw how pained Isaac’s face looked, her stomach churned. She knew what she was about to hear from him again. “It can’t be done,” he insisted.
“Ephraim,” he went on, “you should listen to this. To most of our people, a woman in business is almost beyond belief and endurance! When you were younger, Samara, your skill was a novelty. Now you’re almost beyond marriageable age, and you have – how should I say it? A reputation.”
“A reputation? Me?” she scoffed. “For what?”
“For being too tough. A tough trader. Now I’m pressured beyond my limits by the other traders, Samara. Even if you refuse Hod, I’ll be removing you from our business as soon as your pending deals are concluded.”
“I don’t believe you’ll do it, Father. Aren’t I the one who’s making most of our money?”
“Gershon can take over your accounts.”
As many times as she heard it from him, it still horrified her. Gershon? “You’d better not depend on him, Father.”
“I have no choice. People believe that a Hebrew woman should not be as aggressive as you. It’s our men that should be the merchants and the warriors.”
“Warriors?” She laughed. “Your warriors let the Romans steal from us, destroy our Temple, try to expel us from the city, tear down our shops and houses – shall I go on? My aunt and uncle are sleeping on our floor because of Roman greed! My Caleb, at least, tried to do something.”
“Your Caleb was courageous,” said Isaac, “yet not wise. He enraged the Romans, and was easily caught.”
“What do the rest of you do? You just keep on doing business, and you ignore how the Romans are corrupting our economy – even bribing some of our people to go along with their sinful occupation and oppression of Judea!”
“Daughter,” he said, with a warm smile which deflated her anger a little, “you’re a righteous woman. I’d fight the Romans if I felt we had a chance against them. The most I can do is try to take care of you and our family’s well being. Your marriage shall be in three months time, so finish your accounts and get yourself ready.”
“Father, if you care so much for me, don’t try to marry me to Hod!” Turning her back on him, she stormed out.
In the storeroom, her safe haven, she stood staring at the high window and its newly installed iron bars, a new and stronger design than the previous ones. It relieved her turmoil a little to see them. They should insure that her family’s goods were now safe from theft. Safe from the Romans.
Ephraim entered and asked softly, “Cousin, are you all right?”
“Oh, Ephraim, I’d like to say yes, but I cannot. I hope Father gets bottles of the right color, or the oil will go bad. Ephraim, Father just seems to want to get rid of me. Do you think it’s because my mother Tamar died giving birth to me?”
“No, not at all! Why would you think that? Your father loves you so much. He’s just under the typical pressure to get you married off. But I’m surprised to hear you mention your mother. You never speak of her.”
“I know. I never knew her, yet I do think of her.” Tamar is the mystery in my life.
Ephraim said, “It’s amazing how strong Uncle Isaac is after losing two wives to childbirth. First Tamar, then your stepmother Rachel.”
“Yes. Rachel didn’t give me birth, yet she mothered me with love.” Rachel’s large brown eyes, her wide mouth, quick to smile, came to her memory. She was Isaac’s second wife, and when she died, Samara was only six. It was a terrible crisis for Samara as well as for her father. On the other hand, Tamar, Samara’s birth mother, was to her no more than a mysterious legend of love.
Dead. Both of my mothers. Giving birth. Until I was an adult, I thought that death from childbirth was what a woman could expect. Though she knew better rationally now, she couldn’t shake her feeling of horror at giving birth.
She said, “Father never speaks of Tamar or Rachel any more, and he doesn’t look at any of the women who come around. He just sticks to work, work, work.”
“Just like you,” said Ephraim.
That was annoying. “Don’t belittle me for my labors.”
“Cousin, you work too hard, and you make others work too hard as well. You’re my friend, but sometimes I stay away from you just because you demand so much of me.”
Before she could protest, she felt someone’s gaze on her back. She turned to meet Gershon’s cold stare. “Hello, garlic breath,” she said.
“I saw Kitan leave. Did you get the best of him? What things did you buy? What did they cost us?”
“Hides. Striking ones. You’ll find the prices in my weekly report.”
“I hope you didn’t let the Asian swine cheat us.”
Even Ephraim was visibly annoyed. “Samara did very well, Gershon.”
Samara burst out, “Gershon! It’s you who cheat customers, not Kitan. I’m glad you’re not the one Kitan has to deal with.”
“Oh, but it shall be, once you’re married to Hod. Then you’ll finally be what a woman should be: a wife, not a merchant.” She was irked by his smile, but she kept her face frozen. She wouldn’t let him see that he provoked her.
He kept up the pressure.
“Tell me, Samara, what kind of a merchant is so careless with her stock that she loses it to burglars?”
Ephraim interjected, “But Gershon, didn’t it happen to your own father Azrael? Weren’t his trading goods hauled away last year by persons unknown?”
Gershon’s face went stony. “Nothing could have been done about that.”
Ephraim kept up his needling. “But you have three brothers, Gershon; couldn’t any of you have prevented it?”
“As you well know, Ephraim,” Gershon said testily, “the robbers assaulted our driver and looted our wagon at sword-point. Our dear cousin Samara here had her goods stolen in the middle of the night because she didn’t secure them well enough. She needs someone to show her the sensible way to do things. You know what she needs, Ephraim, and so does she.” He grinned. “A man, that’s what!”
“Gershon,” said Samara, “I value your opinion somewhat less than an empty wine bladder.”
“That’s your loss,” he retorted, and his gleeful face was driving her mad.
Gershon went on, “Please explain to me why Binyamin the money-lender withdrew his marriage proposal for you. It must have been because of some of the absurd things you keep doing. Now you’re stuck with Hod, and Binyamin was wealthier and better looking than Hod. Yet even with Hod, you’re still getting more than you deserve!”
She felt her spine stiffen. “With Binyamin, it would not have been a good marriage.” Thinking of Binyamin’s angular face brought her back to her girlhood when he was courting her. In those days, in spite of losing two mothers, she often had a lilting laugh inside. She missed that feeling.
As for Binyamin: was he handsome? Yes, yet she couldn’t allow herself to have feelings for him. For after their marriage, he would surely have ended up rejecting her. Few men could do otherwise. Caleb might have been the only one.
Gershon was saying, “Your father got up a good dowry of cattle and land for your Binyamin, who was ready to marry you, yet you refused him. Of course, within days, he found himself a willing woman. That was when people first started calling you a fool. No one understands you, Samara.”
“I know. I can’t expect them to. But Gershon, it was a good thing. Now Father has all those cows, and he still has me too.” She laughed, wincing at the pain she felt inside.
“Men don’t like you, dear cousin,” he grinned, “but I do.”
Her guard rose; when he leered like that, he was up to no good.
“I think you’re still pretty,” he said, and took a step towards her.
Ephraim planted himself between them. “Stay back, Gershon.”
Gershon shrugged and turned to leave. He obviously didn’t intend to molest me, Samara thought, at least not now with Ephraim here. He was just putting on a show. A demented one.
On his way out, he said, “Remember, Hod is coming next week to make arrangements about adding you to his household right away.”
Ephraim and Samara looked at each other and shook their heads as the door closed behind him.
Samara said, “Unfortunately, the other merchants of the city are too much like Gershon.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen any of them behaving as badly as Gershon.”
She smiled ruefully. “They may not harass me in obvious ways like Gershon does. Yet they’re trying to force me out of the trading business, and they’re accomplishing that.”
Ephraim blurted out. “Do you think it’s because you’re so much more successful than they are? I do.”
“I think I disturb them. They’re afraid that their wives and daughters may start trying to be like me. Their complaints about me began as soon as I started trading, and the more successful I’ve become, the louder they’ve complained.”
“I know you’ve been to some of their meetings. What are they like?”
She rolled her eyes. “Beyond obnoxious. Ephraim, you should be glad you don’t have to attend them yet. But in a few years, I hope you’ll be a full-fledged merchant yourself, and then you can knock some sense into them.”
“I shall do that, and with gusto.”
“The meeting I attended with my father last week was particularly bad. There must have been thirty of them in the room. They all turned and stared at me when I walked in with my father, as if I were an intruder.
“I had decided to bring up the Roman issue again. Standing before them, hands on hips, I insisted they should confront the Romans. I told them, as if they didn’t know it already, that the Romans were getting worse every day, destroying our homes and our jobs, and leaving us with homeless people and child beggars on our streets.”
“You’re so right to push them.”
”Well, what did the good merchants say? That because I’m a woman, I should not concern myself with such things, and that they had just taken a vote deciding that no women can attend their meetings any more!”
“But talent as a trader has nothing to do with being male or female.”
“I know that, and you know that, Ephraim, but do the merchants of our city know it? Obviously not; they don’t want to know that. When Father gave them his cherished little bit of news about me, they were delighted. But I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
“What bit of news?”
“That he’s accepted a marriage proposal for me. You should have seen them smiling and nodding at each other. But of course, none of them had a smile for me.”
“Samara,” said Ephraim, “you shouldn’t have to marry Hod. You’d never be happy with him.”
“Father says that Hod will let me help with his business. Not true. Once I marry him, he’d tether me to the kitchen just as firmly as he tethers his camels to the termite-ridden posts of his stable. I swear, Ephraim, I don’t know what to do. I can’t bear to give up my life as a merchant. It’s hard to believe that my father is willing to destroy his best source of income. His business would probably not survive without me. He totally overvalues the skills of Gershon.”
As her tears began flowing, she blurted out, “No, Ephraim! I can’t be told who to marry! Caleb was the right man for me, and I won’t give up hope of seeing him again. Oh, Ephraim, is there any way out for me?”
He stared at her awkwardly, and she immediately regretted her outburst. She had spoken as if he should have prevented the imposition of Hod on her. For that matter, her romantic problems were an adult issue, and Ephraim was only sixteen.
As she looked at his face, she remembered how they would share sweet pastries and milk when he was little. She’d wipe off the film of milk that sometimes clung to his upper lip. Then, as now, she felt the sweetness of her affection for him. But at his current age, he’d be embarrassed by any tenderness. No doubt.
“I wish I knew what to say, Samara. Maybe you should talk to some of your friends. Female friends. Like Leah. I saw her at the market yesterday, and she doesn’t look well. I’ve heard rumors about trouble in her marriage.”
Samara winced. Was Leah’s husband straying? Small, blond Leah was so young and vulnerable. “I shall have to visit her soon.” The thought that her husband was unfaithful was more than upsetting. That man had no right to hurt Samara’s friend.
“Another thing, Samara. Tomorrow, the household stewards are taking our monthly contributions to the hermits in their caves. Do you have the provisions ready?”
She couldn’t answer. She was surprised to feel a weight on her brow pushing her eyelids down. She knew this meant she was about to have some sort of vision.
Eyes closed, she saw the vistas of the desert – the endless sands, the jagged mountains full of caves. She heard the keening of the desert wind. It was telling her wordlessly that she must go into the desert.
Why? She disliked the desert.
Maybe because her heart might find stillness there.
She opened her eyes. That was it! She would go to the place of the caves. She’d been there one time when she was a child and her father had taken her along, but she hadn’t gone inside because females are not allowed.
Somehow, thinking about this ancient retreat ground was making her hands tremble and her upper lip perspire. The caves were horrible. Dank holes in dry mountains in a place of snakes and scorpions. Yet her heart was drawn there.
She realized that if she were permitted to stay in one of those caves, she could pray and reflect on what life had dealt her, and maybe get some answers.
“Ephraim,” she said, “tell our stewards I’m going with them. I shall see Leah when I return. I’m staying with the hermits for awhile.”
She had no idea how she’d get the hermits to accept her, yet her intuition had spoken to her too strongly for her even to think of questioning it. She was resolved. When spirit guided her this way, she knew from experience that something would get worked out. She didn’t know how, yet she trusted her inner guidance.
“Staying in the holy caves? But cousin, they’re for men. Women aren’t allowed there.”
“This one shall be.”
In her chamber, she began gathering clothing, folding it for her traveling bags. Ephraim was in the kitchen talking to her father, whose voice rose in agitation; had Ephraim told him where she was going?
The last thing she needed now was another hard time from her father.
Caleb’s face came to her memory, as it often did when she felt threatened. She could still see his liquid brown eyes, and as usual they pulled at her heart.
Oddly, she remembered feeling that same tugging at her heart earlier that very day. She wondered uneasily what might have stirred it up in her. It happened out on the street in the midst of the tumult when Kitan’s cart had overturned. It happened when she and the Roman centurion locked gazes.
His eyes were blue. Deep, warm and blue, and her heart had responded.
She was horrified at herself.