return soon like the turn of a coin.’
Simonetta looked sadly at the doomed trees. She reached out her long fingers and caressed the bark of the nearest one. It shivered a little under her touch and wept tears ofdew onto her hand. She would be sorry to see them fall under the axe, as they were so woven into Castello’s heritage. They seemed a part of the di Saronno name – even the family arms featured three almonds. And then she remembered. Such a pennant would Lorenzo had worn when he died. The pain made her grasp the trunk till the bark hurt her fingertips. Lorenzo . What would you say if you knew what was proposed?
When she spoke it was with a lightness of tone to belie what she felt. ‘My husband once told me a tale of the Greek princess Phyllis, who fell in love with a soldier called Demophon. She was left waiting at the altar on her wedding day by her intended and Phyllis waited for years for him to return from the wars, but finally hanged herself from an almond tree.’ Simonetta remembered when she too had thought that the wood of suicides might be for her also. ‘In sympathy, the gods transformed Phyllis into the very bough from which she hung. When the remorseful Demophon returned, he found Phyllis as a leafless, flowerless tree. He embraced the tree and all at once it burst into bloom, demonstrating that love and faith could not be conquered by death. Even now, in the land of Greece the almond tree is a symbol of hope.’
Manodorata looked at her closely and his strange grey eyes softened. ‘I perceive both a lie and a truth in this tale. Your husband will never return, but love and faith cannot be conquered by death. My people know this morethan most.’ He seemed lost in thought, then turned up the almond walk towards the house. ‘Come, walk with me. In return for your tale I will tell you another.’
Simonetta kept pace with him, side by side as he talked.
‘Far away and long ago there was a place called Masada. It was built by a King called Herod – the one who in your scriptures, sought the death of the man you call Jesus. Masada was a fortress of great strength, but also great beauty, as it was set on a mountain overlooking a land-locked ocean they call the Dead Sea. It was, for many years, a Roman garrison until it was captured by a people known as the Zealots.’
‘Jews?’ questioned Simonetta.
‘Jews. When their city of Jerusalem fell into Roman hands, the Zealots took refuge in Masada. The Romans responded by besieging the fortress. The Zealots fought bravely but could do nothing against the might of Rome. They realized that their defeat was near. Their leader, Eleazar Ben Yair, ordered that all Zealots were to be killed. Ten men were appointed to kill the others, then one of the remaining ten was to kill the other nine and then commit suicide.’
Simonetta stopped in her tracks, shocked beyond belief. But Manodorata paced onwards and continued.
‘With the fall of Masada, the state of Israel – the land we had been promised – came to an end. And ever since we have been scattered all over the world, hated and derided,yet still existing. Our death, and the deaths of our brethren through the ages, have been a testament to the enduring nature of our love and faith. For it did not end with Masada. In York, Jews were penned into Clifford’s tower and burnt, every one. In Mainz, after the first crusade, our community there were driven into the city square and each Jew beheaded. In Spain, even more recently, I myself…’ he stopped as if he recollected something, and changed tack. ‘Well, you know what they say of my kind even here in this fair and civilized town.’ He smiled at her wryly and she looked away, thinking of Raffaella and Gregorio.
‘But why do they hate you so?’
Manodorata shrugged. ‘Some Christians blame the Jews for the death of Christ. One such was Saint Agostino of Hippo, whose bones lie in Peter’s church in Pavia.’
Simonetta nodded slowly. ‘I have
Simonetta looked sadly at the doomed trees. She reached out her long fingers and caressed the bark of the nearest one. It shivered a little under her touch and wept tears ofdew onto her hand. She would be sorry to see them fall under the axe, as they were so woven into Castello’s heritage. They seemed a part of the di Saronno name – even the family arms featured three almonds. And then she remembered. Such a pennant would Lorenzo had worn when he died. The pain made her grasp the trunk till the bark hurt her fingertips. Lorenzo . What would you say if you knew what was proposed?
When she spoke it was with a lightness of tone to belie what she felt. ‘My husband once told me a tale of the Greek princess Phyllis, who fell in love with a soldier called Demophon. She was left waiting at the altar on her wedding day by her intended and Phyllis waited for years for him to return from the wars, but finally hanged herself from an almond tree.’ Simonetta remembered when she too had thought that the wood of suicides might be for her also. ‘In sympathy, the gods transformed Phyllis into the very bough from which she hung. When the remorseful Demophon returned, he found Phyllis as a leafless, flowerless tree. He embraced the tree and all at once it burst into bloom, demonstrating that love and faith could not be conquered by death. Even now, in the land of Greece the almond tree is a symbol of hope.’
Manodorata looked at her closely and his strange grey eyes softened. ‘I perceive both a lie and a truth in this tale. Your husband will never return, but love and faith cannot be conquered by death. My people know this morethan most.’ He seemed lost in thought, then turned up the almond walk towards the house. ‘Come, walk with me. In return for your tale I will tell you another.’
Simonetta kept pace with him, side by side as he talked.
‘Far away and long ago there was a place called Masada. It was built by a King called Herod – the one who in your scriptures, sought the death of the man you call Jesus. Masada was a fortress of great strength, but also great beauty, as it was set on a mountain overlooking a land-locked ocean they call the Dead Sea. It was, for many years, a Roman garrison until it was captured by a people known as the Zealots.’
‘Jews?’ questioned Simonetta.
‘Jews. When their city of Jerusalem fell into Roman hands, the Zealots took refuge in Masada. The Romans responded by besieging the fortress. The Zealots fought bravely but could do nothing against the might of Rome. They realized that their defeat was near. Their leader, Eleazar Ben Yair, ordered that all Zealots were to be killed. Ten men were appointed to kill the others, then one of the remaining ten was to kill the other nine and then commit suicide.’
Simonetta stopped in her tracks, shocked beyond belief. But Manodorata paced onwards and continued.
‘With the fall of Masada, the state of Israel – the land we had been promised – came to an end. And ever since we have been scattered all over the world, hated and derided,yet still existing. Our death, and the deaths of our brethren through the ages, have been a testament to the enduring nature of our love and faith. For it did not end with Masada. In York, Jews were penned into Clifford’s tower and burnt, every one. In Mainz, after the first crusade, our community there were driven into the city square and each Jew beheaded. In Spain, even more recently, I myself…’ he stopped as if he recollected something, and changed tack. ‘Well, you know what they say of my kind even here in this fair and civilized town.’ He smiled at her wryly and she looked away, thinking of Raffaella and Gregorio.
‘But why do they hate you so?’
Manodorata shrugged. ‘Some Christians blame the Jews for the death of Christ. One such was Saint Agostino of Hippo, whose bones lie in Peter’s church in Pavia.’
Simonetta nodded slowly. ‘I have
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