{oOo}
It took more than an hour for Jaghatai to find his brother.
He was honestly surprised when his first plan (stand still and listen for Angron's voice) failed. He'd heard quieter thunderstorms than the 'Angry One's' idea of polite conversation.
Checking the nearest pastures, where the younger warriors liked to gather to spar, ride horses dangerously and brag of how many heads they would take when they rode the stars with their uncles, great-uncles and (of course) the Great Khan, was also fruitless.
Finally he resorted to the ancient and secret tricks for finding a man in the camp: asking one of the women. They pointed him in the right direction and he eventually found a circle of children, many of them on mother's laps, watching as Angron and Esin danced with swords.
Perched easily on the fence by the audience, Amphithoe was almost unrecognisable in breeches and a brightly coloured jacket, only her flowing hair giving away her identity as she fiddled, her violin sending notes up high and rich to guide the pace of the two dancers.
Esin, Jaghatai knew of old was quicksilver flair with her sabre slashing through the air just as its mistress slashed through the dance. In sharp contrast, Angron roared through the dance - not verbally, but the wind bellowing around him as - wearing a baggy shirt and a pair of Jaghatai's own riding breeches, he pounded through the steps. To the Khan's knowledge the two had never crossed swords before but each placed their weapons in paths that would have cut the other seriously (even Angron's resilience might not withstand that silver sabre) had not the other without fail had their sword where it was needed to block it.
For this was no duel, it was a dance - symbolic of combat but filled with whirls and flourishes that told the tale behind the battle being played out. As Jaghatai watched, he knew without words that this was battle-between-oathbrothers where the winner would carry his brother's fate with him to the heavens and the loser must bear his brother's burden with his own across the plains.
And then, with another glorious crescendo of notes from Amphithoe it concluded: Angron on his knees, head flung back until the crown of his head almost touched the ground, Esin standing with one foot braced upon the much larger Primarch, her blade thrust apparently through her foes heart while his spun above them, caught in the moment. Jaghatai, like all the audience, caught up in the performance, felt as if he could not take a breath.
Then Angron flexed and they sprang into the air, like a pair of jack-in-the-boxes, landing on their feet with a flourish of now scabbarded swords (Angron catching his in its sheath while in mid-air was just showing off) and bows to their delighted audience.
"I didn't know you were such an entertainer," Jaghatai teased his brother later.
Angron glared at him. "YOU DON'T GET TO BE THE GREATEST GLADIATOR ON A PLANET WITHOUT KNOWING HOW TO PLEASE A CROWD," he pointed out and wouldn't talk to anyone for the rest of the day. (Esin kicked Jaghatai and he sort of suspected that Amphithoe wanted to.)
{oOo}