The first champions to arrive were of course the champions of the Levant and Egypt. The top masters of death, from slave soldiers, to soldiers who'd been taken slaves, to just plain old slaves. Oh, and one chariot man, ranked twenty in the realm. A handicapped lord from Antioch who insisted on fighting on a chariot and running down his opponents.

He was the brother of a rich Greek chariot maker, and they used gladiator tournaments as some sort of marketing technique.

Kano's Chariots. Chariots for a real Ro-Man! Or something like that.

He arrived with a chariot burgeoning with girls, whom he treated very badly. He threw one woman out on the road when his horses grew tired as they entered the city gates.

He'd left Antioch with ten girls, who he then threw overboard every few miles to "lighten his load", leaving a trail of beautiful but bruised women on his way here. He'd had a mathematician and farrier work together to map out the perfect ratio of consort to horse at every mile of his journey.

"I fight this turd?" Hurek said sourly, staring at the beefy chariot man as he laughed with his last two remaining women, to their clear discomfort and tired smiles.

"We should push for a fight soon," I said, "he's tired from the journey, or whatever he's been doing to those poor souls."

Hurek spat on the ground, "I am ready." He held up his book. Wait... that book...

"Hurek," I hissed, pushing him away from the crowd of onlookers, "where's your sword?"

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Hurek sighed, "I no kill, priest. Never again."

"You're a fucking gladiator you oaf," I snapped, my desperation turning into a ball of nausea rising up my throat. The disappointed smile of Atia still haunted my dreams. "I'm sorry, I've just been under a lot of stress. And it's really important that you win this tournament. However long it takes and however many men you have to get through." Except for one man near the end, I thought guiltily. In front of Emperor Nero, Hurek was going to be sacrificed. In some way that I had to come up with... or else.

"Is fine," Hurek replied calmly, "but I no kill."

"Fine, fine," I said. "You can beat him unconscious can't you?"

Hurek nodded and relief washed over me. "Good, I can work with that." I stared back at the chariot fool, kissing his girls and flaunting his armor like a peacock to his welcomers. He would just saunter his way like this to the palace and lounge around until the first day of the tournament this coming Friday. Unless...

"Hurek, I need you to go to him right now, and spit on his feet like you did just now. Make him challenge you right this minute."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Hurt his ego. Make him think with his dick."

Hurek made a disgusted face and I figured he didn't really understand that turn of phrase. "Make him fight you. Say something about his mother."

"His mother?"

"Yes, his mother! Insult her virtue," I explained.

Hurek nodded, and with a look of determination, strode up to the crowd, which automatically parted to let the large man through.

Kano's oily twirled mustache twitched in confusion as Hurek approached, right up to his chariot.

"I am Hurek."

"Ah!" Kano said relieved, and beckoned to the morning crowd of farmers and merchants, "Gaius sends his best gladiator to escort me."

"Your mother," Hurek bellowed, creating a deafening silence down the road and even those who weren't paying attention, turned to hear the next few words.

"W-what?" Kano said, thinking he'd heard wrong.

"She question her faith."

"What did you say?"

Hurek gave me a side glance, a clever smile breaking across his face, before turning back and stepping closer to Kano. "Your mother tell me last night, that she question her faith."