Chapter 11: Thaila – Neville’s Hands
Thaila had two best friends: Robert and Neville. Outside Thaila’s father’s bakery, Robert nibbled on an apple while he waited for Neville to show up. He took a bite, chewed it carefully, swallowed, then moved his tongue between teeth and lips before taking another bite. Robert was the opposite of Neville. White, skinny, he had thin fingers, fair eyes, and hair that looked like straw. He also had an easy smile, rolling his lips all the way up and down, showing off his red gums like curtains from a puppet theater.
When Neville came around the bend near the Emerald’s wall, Robert threw away the apple’s core and joined the mulatto. From inside the bakery, Thaila watched her two friends walk away. She had copper skin; thick, black hair; round, black eyes; full lips. Her face was not precisely beautiful, but the whole of her was quite agreeable to the eye and, the more you looked at her, the more you got used to her. Her hair smelled like vanilla, her skin had the smell of cake just out of the oven.
She wanted to go with them. Not to become a warrior; she felt sorry even for the little animals she made out of bread and sugar at the bakery. Her throat hurt every time she saw someone biting off their heads. Thaila never wanted to yield a sword, carry a shield. She just wanted to be with her friends.
The three of them grew up together. Thaila didn’t remember, but her father had told her how Robert had become part of their lives.
‘He ran away from the orphanage,’ the baker said, ‘and came to live on our roof, like a yellow cat with a broken tail.’
The Baker wasn’t Franish. He had large hands and slow gestures, his skin was of a darker copper than his daughter’s, his hair just as thick. He wore glasses, which made his gentle eyes look rounder than they were. He had a name, but no one used it. Since he had come from Eslarina, all his clients and friends called him the Eslarian. He was close friends with Maëlle, he always had a book in his hands.
Thaila liked to see her father’s hands at work. He softened, almost soothed the dough with so much kindness that the bread simply melted, like a happy, sleepy puppy. Thaila liked to imagine Neville’s hands working the dough. Neville’s hands were darker than the Eslarian’s, and he had longer fingers. Thaila thought of those fingers breaking eggs, caressing flour. When her father retired, the Eslarian would spend his days at the library, and Neville would take his place by the hot oven. Neville’s hands were always warm.
When Thaila imagined those things, she forgot all about Robert, but he always managed to invade her daydreams. He showed up suddenly at the door, casting a shadow in the shape of a cat with a broken tail. Or he knocked at the window glass with his finger nail, seeking to come in. Thaila couldn’t imagine Neville without Robert.
She understood why Neville chose to become a soldier. He was a soldier’s son, and his father used to train with him at the hill behind their house. Robert often trained with them, but it was a game for him. He had a place in the bakery. The Eslarian had taught him all his recipes, his techniques, the gentleness he should when handling ingredients.
What was the use of a Baynardian soldier? Soldiers were supposed to protect a country, but this was a civil war, and Baynard was not a country. The more they fought, the more they broke Franária.
Thaila saw Maëlle outside, at the corner. The black woman was crestfallen as Neville walked away from her with Robert.
If it weren’t for that terrible father, Neville wouldn’t feel the need to enlist. Maybe he would have chosen to become a baker instead. Behind Thaila, the Eslarian pushed his glasses up with his wrist. His hands were covered in flour. If the Eslarian suffered a trauma so great that it would cripple his body and soul, what would she do? How did Neville’s father, the bravest warrior in Baynard, respected by everyone, feared even by Fulbert of Patire, become what he was today?
‘Neville’s father used to be an honored man,’ she said aloud.
‘He still is,’ said the Eslarian. ‘Neville’s father has never betrayed or disobeyed Henrique of Baynard. He brought bushido to the Baynardian army. From the moment he knelt and swore loyalty to Henrique, he belonged to the king.’
Neville would never belong to anyone, thought Thaila. And yet he was about to kneel at another man’s feet. Had Neville ever broken his word? Thaila couldn’t remember.
‘Robert is also honorabled,’ she said.
The Eslarian rested his hands on the raw dough and examined his daughter with his gentle eyes. No matter how disconnected her sentences were, he always replied as though he knew exactly what had been going on inside her head.
‘Robert is honest,’ said the Eslarian. ‘That’s different. Honor is a way man has invented to chain someone with invisible shackles.’
The Emerald swallowed up Robert and Neville. For the first time in their lives, the three of them were not together. The boys went into the Emerald, and Thaila was left outside.
Thaila ran to the door.
‘Where are you going?’ asked the Eslarian.
Thaila was already out on the street.
