the black arts with their forbidden learning,” said Popel. “And their perfidious Talmud mocks the virtue of celibacy, saying that a man who has no wife cannot be called a man.”
The bishop begged, “Please—stop.”
“I won’t stop until the Talmud is forbidden once and for all,” said Popel.
“I’ll have it placed on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum as soon as I get back to Rome,” said the bishop.
“That could take months. You have your secretary and scribe here at hand. You must do it now, my lord.”
The clock on the table rang the hour for mid-morning prayer. It was a memento mori device, with a jeweled skull that popped out to remind the viewer that the moment of his death could come at any time.
“All right! Stuck—”
“Yes, my lord?” said the scribe.
The doctor removed the probe. The bishop gave a cry of relief, and stayed bent over, breathing heavily.
The scribe repeated his query.
The bishop said, “Draft a missive—PUFF PUFF—to His Eminence—PUFF PUFF—requesting that he ban the study of the Talmud—PUFF—in manuscript or any printed form.”
“Yes, sir.”
The doctor explained to Bishop Stempfel that he had a fissure in an embarrassing location.
“What’s the cure? Surgery?”
“The Jews may practice such quackery, my lord, because they have no recourse to our miracle cures,” said the doctor, reaching into his bag for a bottle of Saint Anthony’s water and a small wooden box.
“They’d poison us all if they could,” said Popel, “so thoroughly have they mastered the secret art of killing. And that is why we must avenge the bloodcrime.”
“Enough speeches,” said Zeman. “We all know how you feel about the Jews.”
Popel glared at him but said nothing more.
The doctor opened the box and removed a small object wrapped in faded golden cloth. He gently unraveled the blood-stiffened cloth and held up the withered finger of a long-dead saint. He sprinkled the relic with holy water and touched it to the bishop’s wound, then the ordeal was finally over.
Greatly relieved, the bishop pulled his underclothes back on.
Zeman said, “My lord, grant me the authority to prosecute the heretical unbelievers in the neighborhood of Bethlehem Chapel.”
A Protestant stronghold. Yes, that made sense, thought the bishop.
“Consider it done,” he said.
“And sites of Christian martyrdom draw pilgrims as well,” said Popel. And pilgrims spend money.
The bishop didn’t take much stock in the bloodcrime story since the Laws of Moses forbid the shedding of innocent blood, but he felt obliged to draw up a report.
He finished dressing, and ordered the two priests to begin a campaign of general intimidation to ferret out and round up the leaders of the heretical sects. He was sure he’d find some witches among them.
CHAPTER 8
THE WIND SHIFTED, BLOWING DUST into my eyes and making me feel that I was fighting the wind no matter which way I was going. It didn’t help that most of the Jewish Town was laid out in a labyrinth of dark and unfamiliar streets.
Rabbi Loew steadied himself, and we trudged toward the main street.
“Do we have a moment so I can go see my wife?” I asked.
“No, we need to prepare our case for the kehileh.”
“What do you mean, ‘our case’? We’re making a simple request to remand a prisoner to the emperor’s custody.”
Rabbi Loew stopped and fixed one of his eagle eyes on me, his long cloak flapping in the breeze. “Tell me, Ben-Akiva, what happened to the Israelites after they crossed the Sea of Reeds into the wilderness?”
“They came to a place called Marah where the water was too bitter to drink.”
“And—?”
“And they thought they were all going to die of thirst.”
“But God said—?”
I searched my memory for the correct verse of Torah: Vayoymer…lekoyl Adinoy…veha’azantoh lemitsvoysov veshomartoh kol khukoysovkol hamakhaloh asher samti…
“He said, ‘Study Torah and you will live.'”
“Before He actually gave them the Torah.”
True. The Lord had told them to keep His commandments before He gave them the list of commandments.
“How is that possible?” asked the rabbi.
I focused on the deep furrows in my teacher’s brow, with his white hair blowing around like wild wheat along the edge of a lovingly plowed field that had yielded harvest after harvest of wisdom.
I said, “Because the seven laws of Noah are so basic that they even apply to the other nations that have not received the Torah, like the prohibitions against incest, robbery, and murder.”
“A good, straightforward answer, and ethically valid,” said the rabbi. “But only on one level. What is the deeper d’rashic meaning?”