Kane and the rest of Barabas' stock of surviving gladiators travel in their carriage, chains on wrist and feet while men lie exhausted from the day's games. They should have been rested and fed but Memnuh will not have rest until they have returned within the confines of Grimstone.
Anger chipping at his soul like a blunt wood. Eyes closed while in thought, cart shared by wife but mind distant in mental peril.
He remembers his return to Grimstone after his illicit affairs in the town, where he had an inn master arrange for private lodgings where he could take the dark elf for his own pleasure.
A night he thought well deserved and enjoyed, only to return by day to find his wife in the arms of a slave. The disrespect on his name is something he will not forgive nor forget.
Gazing out the cart window, his back turned towards the receding familiar landscape, his eyes alight upon Barabas' cart. A frown creases his brow as his fists fold in a hard clench.
Frieda, pipe smoke curling around her face, lies against the cart's edge, legs outstretched upon the chair opposite him. "You cannot fault the boy", she says, her gaze fixed on her husband's brooding profile.
"He has faced death in the arena, as a gladiator in the games where he should have perished. Yet, the gods, in their mercy, have spared him".
The clouds that hover over Grimstone give birth to lightning, nurtured by the sounds of thunder it strikes the clouds violently.
"So, what next husband?" Frieda tries to interest Memnuh in small talk but his mind is far removed from the cart.
He remembers the feel of Emilia's skin against his fingertips, the way he took her, violently as her pleasures meant nothing. His mind plays a trick on him, giving false imagery of his wife and Kane. Kane, taking his wife the same way he took Emilia.
A vein bulges on his forehead and he grits his teeth.
"Memnuh!", Frieda's voice cuts through the air, jarring him from his reverie. He turns, his gaze a slow, deliberate sweep, revealing an icy indifference that chills her.
He returns his eyes to the road as it begins to drizzle.
They reach Grimstone, the moment Memnuh comes down the cart he summons a guard and gives unknown errand. Barabas comes down and begins to order The Sith and the guards to escort the gladiators to their cells.
Their gazes lock, halting his advance, "This is your fault," Memnuh accuses, his voice a loud growl, "You have failed to discipline your dog" he closes the distance between them, his ire evident.
"What is the meaning of this, Memnuh? The boy has met your challenge and emerged victorious" Barabas speaks back.
Kane comes out of the cart, hands together as Celine stands behind him. Eyes meet and Memnuh feels his heartbeat rise, "String him up," he orders.
The guards gather Kane and take him towards one of the pillars of the mansion where he is tied.
"Brother this is unnecessary, the gods have passed judgement" Barabas says only to be rebutted with a slap to his face, "Fuck the gods, this is Grimstone" Memnuh, says and walks backwards.
Spreading his arms open so all may see him, slave, guards and children take interest while sun shies away to the west, "I am god in Grimstone" he declares.
"You seem to have forgotten the ways of Grimstone brother, respect stands above all laws here and I demand the highest respect in my household" Memnuh says, "You want to disgrace me, with this slave of yours. Since you have forgotten our ways, I shall discipline you, so you shall remember".
Barabas stands with furrowed brows, jaw stiff as he watches Memnuh make statements while blood steams in his veins, "Discipline me? You must have gone and lost it, brother" he says, "Yes I have,".
A guard comes back with two axes and hands them over to Memnuh, "Memnuh, stop this. It was just one fucking night" Frieda tries to intercede.
"Silence wench" he roars at her, "You wish to fight me Memnuh. You may be the head of this family but I am a sorcerer. I respect you but you are not a match for me" Barabas says, hands clenched.
"Put words to test, cunt" "We don't have to...", before Barabas can finish his words, axe comes flying his way. He dodges but does not see the fist that catches his eye in a blow, Memnuh hits his brother's ankle with the back of the axe, tripping him.
He swings downward and Barabas rolls way and lets the axe break the earth of said grounds.
With a dismissive "Very well", Barabas pushes two hands forward and projects a strong force of wind, hurling Memnuh backward.
He begins to chat an incantation and arcane glyphs of crimson light erupt behind him. From these swirling sigils, a volley of fiery beam erupts, raining down upon the hapless Memnuh.
Memnuh executes a series of evasive manoeuvres, darting left and right, his movements accentuated by graceful spins. He charges toward Barabas, but his brother's sorcery unleashes a tremor, the very ground beneath him convulsing, disrupting his momentum.
A blast of red beam strikes Memnuh, sending his flying backwards and against the ground.
"Stop this Memnuh" Barabas shouts, trying to give reason to Memnuh but he will not have it. In Barabas' restraint, Memnuh charges violently, swinging his axes to release a colourful force of wind that cuts through the air.
Barabas conjures a magical barrier for defence, but its protective embrace simultaneously stifles his incantations. Meanwhile, Memnuh raises his axe to break shield. The shield shatters under the force if the impact leaving Barabas vulnerable as the axe descends in a deadly arc.
An unseen force holds his axe in place while Barabas grunts in his struggle to maintain control of his spell.
Memnuh kicks Barabas' chest, Barabas tries to blast off a spell at him but the lord of Grimstone propels himself forward in the opposite direction of the blast, past Barabas.
Barabas regains his balance, a fleeting triumph, only to have the brutal edge of an axe bash against his flesh. Blood blossoms across his face as Memnuh, with a swift, brutal manoeuvre, sweeps his legs out from beneath him.
Menuh raises axe in crazed fashion but before he can land his mark, Barabas blows him away with another blast of red beam. Memnuh rolls, ignoring the pain that burns his skin.
He slams his axes together and a jolt of lightning is fired from them.
The lightning takes the shape of an eagle, fast moving towards Barabas.
Barabas conjures a crimson. Aura with a flourish of his hands, the energy coalescing into a spectral skull ablaze with malevolent light.
The opposing spells collide, unleashing a violent eruption of force. A shockwave of raw energy surges outward, dispersing dust into the air as the sky weeps in response to the upheaval.
Barabas searches for Memnuh as dust clears, he whirls in his search only to receive numerous hands of hardened fists. Memnuh's hands seem to multiply, taking astral forms while bearing physical weight.
Clenched against Barabas' body, they connect with dangerous embrace giving Barabas no space to breathe or retaliate. With swift motion, an uppercut sends Barabas flying to the air until back meets ground.
Rain begins.
Water wet hair and body as blood trickles down Barabas' mouth and face.
He spits blood as ribs chime to songs of pain.
He slaps his hands on the floor and says a spell, magic energies courses through his body and connects with the wet grounds.
The waters and muddy grounds rise to take shapes and form, becoming replicas of the caster himself.
They charge at Memnuh, "Using close combat attacks on me? You must be mad" he cries, "No. Buying time" he responds and raises his hands up, speaking chants of magic.
Memnuh slices through the clones with ease, he notices as the earth trembles beneath him and a magic circle forms. Obsidian hands of shadow erupt and hold his feet, a face begins to appear underneath the mud.
"You asked for this" Barabas says, hands still up in the air as he unleashes his spell. Memnuh will not have it, he throws his axe with precision, fast against the wind backed by strength of muscle and magic.
It collides with Barabas' face, discontinuing the spell. Mind wobbles in his head, unfortunate, for he meets the back of Memnuh's axe.
Nose, blood filled as he lays down with defeated pride while Memnuh stands over him with axe aimed at neck.
"This will not happen again. If it does, I will string you up myself" Memnuh says and turns away from his bleeding brother.
"Amos" Memnuh calls on a tall man, fair of scarred skin with slave brand on chest, "Whip the fuck out of that bastard" he orders the man.
The night, meant to be one of victory as most of their gladiators were victorious on this day, ends with whip tearing against Kane's flesh and the songs of his pain is sang in his groans.