The Path of Sand pt. 2

Clad in chainmail around her legs and leather over her chest, the warrior that strode to meet Tarmen carried a nasty looking mace. The amount of gore and wounds spoke to the carnage she had wrought, but just like him she was exhausted.
Weapons raised, Tarmen could hear the crowd going wild to see the end of this. He stole a look and from Mace’s confused glance up she had seen his own.
What had been packed seats was now slowly showing pockets of empty ones and there was a growing line exiting. A look between them declared a quick truce to fully see what was happening, Tarmen at least was a little peeved at the idea of possibly dying to a disinterested crowd. Only the most dedicated audience remained to bray for the battle to end, but amongst the rest Tarmen could see chatter, a new seat left vacant with each ear it reached. He had seen something sinar happen, but not on this scale. It was as if everyone was hearing that their paramour had been found out.
This break from the fight also brought to his attention a change in the weather coming through the open top of the arna. A wind had picked up, nothing new here, but this felt… off. Something was happening.
Several had cried out from whatever news was spreading, but Tarmen couldn’t make out what they said. Instead he looked to Mace for any kind of clue and once again was left with no immediate answers. She was locked on the crowd, a small smile growing to combat the disbelief in her eyes. By Zin, if this was about the prophetess business he was going to have very choice words for Queen Alexis or whatever her new title was.
Of course he couldn’t have a simple fight without yet another scheme or ‘greater game’ occurring at the same Gods damned time. Could they never wait one more night?
He wanted the disappointment to wait, though he could feel the rumble again. Unlike before however, he couldn’t push the bubbling thoughts down again, as if the rumbling was forcing them up from the depths.
All of it was giving him a migraine, only feeding the cycle he was caught in. Soon the rumble was all he could focus on and as he looked at Mace, his feet moved on their own. She wasn’t as dumbfounded as he thought, her eye catching his movement in time to block the blow that would have severed her head. She was still driven to her knees to hold him off, needing to hold both ends of her weapon as Tarmen pressed the machete down with an almost maddened determination. The remaining crowd loved it all the same, but he could hardly care anymore, he knew his little vacation was officially over.
Just as it seemed that Mace’s strength would fail her, Tarmen let his machete slide off the mace. He then grabbed her head and smashed it into his knee before cutting the blade through her neck.

He didn’t really focus as he was hailed as the victor. He was tired, his arm was now numb, and now this rumble was seemingly here to stay. He simply took his money and left, being forced back into the real action and towards the temple, following the growing stream of people.