Book of Water

Chapter 12

12

“I have to get back to him,” Bradamante said. Her hand still stung—pleasantly so—from the slap she had given Astolpho.

Her violence toward him surprised her. She never would have imagined herself striking this man she had once believed she loved. She hated to admit why it had come so easily in the moment. She would have to examine that later.

For now, what mattered was that that young woman was alone with Rinaldo, doing who knew what. Bradamante could still feel the imprint of Michaela’s strong grip on her throat. Astolpho wanted Bradamante to trust her? It would take more than his word.

He caught her arm and tried to hold her back. He was stronger than she remembered, but not strong enough. She wrenched her arm away, feeling the sting of his fingers on her skin.

“Give her time—” Astolpho started to say, but then they both heard Rinaldo’s voice calling to his sister.

Bradamante’s eyes met Astolpho’s for a moment. Then she turned and barged into the tent.

She found Rinaldo kneeling next to Michaela, holding her limp hand in his.

Bradamante had no care or concern for the girl. She stared with elation at her brother.

“Naldo!” She embraced him with such force she nearly knocked him over. Then the tears came and she was laughing, joyful and amazed. She drew back and looked at him, at his face, at him kneeling without any hint of injury.

Astolpho was here now, too, but he ignored Rinaldo and rushed straight for Michaela. Bradamante tried not to notice.

She hugged her brother again and said a silent prayer. Thank you, my god. Thank you, Manat. Thank you however this was done.

She knew how it was done. Perhaps not how, but by whom.

She stole a glance at Michaela and at the young prophet so eager to give her care.

And felt a deep stab of pain in her heart.