Blubbering, stuttering, spittle flying as he raged; Kano went through different stages of shock and confusion before unleashing on a calm Hurek. His tirade began in broken Latin, then Greek, and then some broken Arabic. He even sneaked in some Armenian in there somewhere. I really wish I had my journal with me.

The Antiochian leaned over his chariot, waving obscene gestures as his two maiden companions cringed away. "You shitless curved pig dick son of a... pig!"

Ah, almost there. He was on the cusp of new literature. So close.

I followed the locals as they edged away from the scene, catching on to the fact there might be a brawl any moment. Kano didn't lose complete control, however, and instead demanded an immediate duel to the death. Right at the gates. Hurek turned to me with a thumbs up.

"Keep your eyes on him!" I yelled but the chariot freak was busy shoving the women off of his vessel. He slapped the reins and charged off down the road to my confusion. He must be setting up a charge.

One of the women ran in my direction, carrying a bunch of food she'd nicked off the chariot before being kicked off. She stopped a safe distance away and out of sight, before shoving an entire turkey leg down her gullet. I shook my head and forced my gaze away from the gluttonous display. "What should I do?" Hurek said as he came jogging back to me. The gladiator stared at the woman too as she downed the turkey.

"Ignore her, look," I pointed to Kano, who was rounding the market square and preparing a proper chariot charge. He had unhooked large blades protruding from his wheels, cutting and shredding anything they touched a meter out from the chariot hull. He whipped the reins and began the most violent but awe-inspiring chariot run I'd ever seen. All the stalls, from vegetables to textiles to pottery, blasted into smithereens by his chariot blades on all sides, as the Antiochian barreled towards us.

Us...

I was a part of this now, and stricken with mortal fear for a moment, I stood rooted to the spot until Hurek grabbed me by the shoulders, and set me down on the side, away from Kano's path. "Stay away, priest."

"Uh, thank you."

"What I do?"

Kano caught bags of flour, ripped open by the blades, sending a cloud of white to tornado around the furious man as he coughed but didn't slow his fiery attack.

I racked my brain for anything that might help Hurek. How was he suppose to fight something like this? And with a fucking book?

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The blades would cut him up if he tried to dodge around.

He would be run over if he stood his ground.

If he managed to survive those two scenarios, Kano carried a spear on his chariot which he could use to impale... but a spear was poor weapon for hand to hand combat now that I thought about it.

Hurek dove out of the way with great effort as Kano rushed past, his horses just as furious as their master. Hurek rolled with it and pounced back on his feet, holding up his tome like a shield against Kano's spear thrusts.

The Antiochian was busy turning around, though. A wide turn to keep his speed and momentum.

"Hurek!" I yelled and the gladiator nodded, thankfully keeping his eyes on Kano but still lending me his ear. "Jump on him!"

"What?" Hurek replied, shocked at my suggestion. But that was the only way to get to even the fight and not have Hurek spend the morning and afternoon dodging chariot blades. "Get close to him, past his spear and chariot."

I wasn't sure if Hurek would listen, as the gladiator launched himself sideways, the spinning blade missing him by an inch.

"Hurek, you have to listen to m-"

What Hurek did next shocked me. Just as Kano rounded the gate for another charge, Hurek catapulted his heavy tome across the square, easily a dangerous missile at that speed.

The tome spun viciously as it arched towards Kano, and at the same time, Hurek sprinted towards the chariot.

"Clever son of a pig," I muttered under my breath as Kano, ducked the flying book and didn't see the gladiator pounce right on top of his chariot.

It was too late to use the spear, but Kano snarled, trying to pull back for a thrust anyways. He'd let go of the reins and the horses, now spooked by Hurek, tried to flee in different directions.

The woman with turkey grease all over her face and chest was the only one remaining on the road, as most had rushed inside the closest dwelling and shut the doors. I took her by the hand and yanked her away from the careening chariot as it crashed into walls, cut up barrels and pillars and fences.

Hurek and Kano fought over the spear, but try as he might, Kano was soon to be overpowered. With one hand holding on to dear life, Hurek pulled the spear out of Kano's desperate claws and stuck it straight into one of the chariot's wheels.

The large wagon flipped on its heads, sending both men flying in a storm of wood and iron and sharp steel. They rolled into a dust of flour and dirt as I sprinted off to Hurek's aide. The man was still alive, thank the heavens. Coughing and groaning on the floor, but still alive.

"Kano," were his first words, "he still alive?"

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"Kano," he panted, pulling himself up with my help. "I no kill Kano?"

But as the dust cleared, and we saw ahead to where the chariot man lay, there was only one, definitive answer to that question.

"No," Hurek gasped and fell to his knees.

Even I couldn't bear to look at the mess in front of us. Kano lay with his chest caved in, choking on his own blood.

***

"Were we assassins? Dealers of untimely death? Hurek certainly thought so, as he spent the remainder of the day praying to his zoroaster god. We saw an opportunity to eliminate a Primarch and took it. Kano was a fraud, either way.

I remember when my son once came to me complaining of his friends cheating in a game of dice. I spanked him for crying and told him to cheat harder. The result came better than I expected; he began a street brawl and came home covered in bruises. I couldn't imagine doing something like that myself, and I remember how proud I was for him. How is this any different? I did Hurek a favor and he goes praying for forgiveness!"

- Cicero, Personal Journal