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Ahh!
Ahhh!
I believe the man dead.
Agron.
Supplies. Be quick.
Take anything of value.
Spartacus.
You leave his cock to the sun?
No. I send a message.
To an old friend...
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Pompey was a fool to engage Sertorius absent support.
When has Pompey ever delayed action
in favor of reason?
Advancing in years yet ever the adolescent butcher.
Where youth plummets, maturity may soar.
Rome will lose all of Hispania
if Pompey's numbers are not shored against the renegade.
And who would lead such a force to glorious accolade?
Freshly minted praetor, perhaps?
I serve the Republic, Marcus.
We will take arms against her enemies
if so commanded.
The embellished robes of a praetor
not yet to wrinkle,
and yet he speaks of war and laurels.
I speak only of pressing matters.
We need not tread foreign soil to find them,
do we, Varinius?
Not when Spartacus and his mongrels
continue to evade capture.
The man is no longer bound to my concerns.
More of young Seppius' men were slaughtered
on the road outside Capua.
He sends word to me that one of the fallen
bore your name, carved into his chest.
An unfortunate tether.
Quickly to be severed.
Cossutius awaits my attentions.
Apologies to your daughter,
that I could not linger to gaze upon her.
Disappointment to be tempered
with promise of future visit. Hm.
Come, let us break meal --
The Consuls will present a motion
dispatching you to Capua at once.
This is a simple tumultus, Albinius.
Undeserving the attentions of a praetor.
You brought the Thracian to Roman soil, Gaius.
You granted patronage to that grinning shit Batiatus
a breath before his house fell to massacre.
A massacre my daughter barely fucking escaped.
Varinius lends his support to Seppius.
If he is the one to bring Spartacus to justice,
then that victory will be used to embarrass you.
Attend to this.
Or see yourself rise no further within the Senate.
Don't lower your sword!
Eight more Romans!
Sent to the afterlife!
Peirastes!
Replace wood with steel, for those who are ready.
Vitus!
Pyrrhus! Lysandros!
Divide these among you according to skill.
And ready the rest for demonstration.
Spartacus. We need food.
Not more weapons.
Steel and coin are all they carried.
Crixus' men fare better.
Rhaskos.
Where is Crixus?
He seeks Marcellus, the cunt peddler.
Your men have done well for themselves.
See everyone to equal portion.
Fuck!
You have more than enough.
Gained by blood and risk.
What do they do but lay about?
Divide what you have.
I will not ask again.
Fucking Gauls.
Rhaskos is a selfish fool.
Unable to see beyond his own desires.
No one will go hungry tonight.
That is all that matters.
And tomorrow?
Will bring death to yet more Rons.
I would see all of them struck down.
Yet not at the cost of your life.
I have proven troublesome to kill.
There is no one that stands your equal.
Yet for those less skilled,
moving towards the mountains in the east
would be sorely welcome.
Game is plentiful there.
And Roman numbers sparse.
It would be wise.
Then why do we stay?
What holds us here,
so near Capua and the threat --
Spartacus.
I hear you wish to command my men?
No.
Simply to remind them of what is just.
You would have done the same,
had you been present.
I shall have words with them.
They would be better received from your lips.
You were in town again?
You risk discovery.
I was not seen, except by Marcellus.
And he will never speak of it.
Did his blood bear fruit?
A name.
Trebius.
The slaver?
He will point towards her?
Marcellus revealed that he brokered deal of Naevia.
Where do we find him?
He frequents Capua upon each moon,
to trade his wares.
And to wet his cock at Arminius' brothel.
News to lift the heart.
It remains firmly bound, until Naevia is back in my arms.
I will have those words now.
Crixus?
Have you had sight of Doctore?
The ludus was his life's blood.
To lay eyes upon those who have spilled it...
It would salt mortal wound.
Ahh!
You fight like a woman! Fucking kill him!
A poor showing.
Apologies, Magistrate.
These were the best that could be procured.
The crowd demands spectacle, Mercato.
They must be distracted, lest the city fall
to ill temper and panic.
Gladiators and games.
While Spartacus and his murdering horde roam free.
Your brother has the matter well in hand, Seppia.
Words of comfort.
To the eight of his men slaughtered this morning.
Eight?
Apologies.
Pressing business conspired to delay me--
Is it true, Seppius?
Eight more of your men, fallen to Spartacus?
A thing of little note.
Spartacus will soon be brought to terms.
And our beloved cousin Sextus avenged.
Or you to join him,
leaving me woefully unattended.
What form of brother would I be,
to abandon such cherished blood?
A poor showing.
I have nothing of worth.
We seek only words.
I am absent them as well.
You were Batiatus' man, were you not?
You are mistaken.
No, Oenomaus, he was called.
It is fortunate you are not him.
The man stands accused of turning
upon his dominus.
The reward for his capture is a substantial sum.
Towards Spartacus yet higher.
If he were to be revealed,
a man such as you could continue not being himself.
As I said, I have nothing of worth.
A lesser sum then.
Apologies.
You are not Batiatus' man.
You should not be outside.
I wanted to see the moon.
Janus loves to gaze upon it.
Varro would hoist him upon his shoulders
and he would stretch his hands out,
attempting to wrest it from the heavens.
Perhaps one day he shall.
But not upon his father's shoulders.
Janus is yet too young for memory
to take proper hold.
I doubt he would recall the sight of me now.
You are his mother.
Years would not lessen such a bond.
He will burst as sun through clouds,
at the sight of you.
I have dreamt of nothing else since our parting.
Mira speaks of the mountains, to the east.
I have thoughts dispatching men to hunt for game.
Your brother tends to Janus not far from there,
does he not?
The moon within closer reach.
I would shorten the distance.
You think I have not longed to have it so?
To be far from all of this?
I am branded fugitivus with the rest of you.
What life could I offer my son beneath such shadow?
None.
Within the Republic.
All the coin I have relieved the Romans of since our escape.
Enough to buy you and your son passage,
far from these shores. Spartacus...
Varro's last words were of you and Janus.
That I see you cared for.
They need not have been spoken.
Send word to Crescentia that I must move
our mid-day meals later in the week.
And respond to Varus' request
for our presence at his celebration.
We will not be attending.
I know you do not care for the man,
yet he is well connected.
We must make appearance.
It's your father would have it otherwise.
He dispatches me to Capua.
To deal with Spartacus.
I will have word with him.
He is set upon it.
You are a praetor, Gaius.
Hunting errant slaves is beneath you.
Yet it must be done.
But I promise we will return to Roman well
before our child enters this world.
We?
You will accompany me of course.
I will not.
Out.
I am bound to the House of Batiatus by patronage.
Granted only to bury knowledge
of the blood staining your hands.
What happened to Licinia was an accident.
She was cousin of Marcus Crassus!
She was a fucking bitch!
All who knew of the deed
speak no more.
Let us put it behind us.
I intend to.
Now make preparations.
We leave for Capua.
And an end to the curse of Spartacus.
You believe the words of Marcellus,
bleated from tongue with sword to neck?
Crixus moves on Arminius and his place of whores.
And I will be at his side.
So we follow the fucking Gaul now?
I swore aid in the matter.
You did not.
I would not think less, if you stayed from it.
I am with you.
You had me at whores.
Avoid unnecessary risk,
and provoking words towards the Gauls.
Peirastes leads the hunt for game.
He will have you safely to your son's arms.
From where you have been too long absent.
See your boy to a man.
That I may one day greet him as a brother.
I will tell Janus of you.
Of the man who loved his father above all others.
She takes to foot?
Long overdue.
As are many things this night.
This is not your fight, Spartacus.
I gave my word. Blood and honor.
It yet speaks to the man.
Then let us split darkness
with the cries of Romans.
Uhh!
Go!
Trebius!
Where is Trebius?
Where!
Get off the fucking floor! No!
Get off the fucking floor! Bitch!
Trebius.
I would have words.
I would not.
Ahhh!
No!
Your man?
More guards!
We need--
Trebius. You fucking cunt!
Agron--
This is the Roman shit that sold me and Duro to Batiatus.
My brother would be alive if it were not for him!
He knows the whereabouts of Naevia.
We will take him and go.
He will not last.
I need but a moment.
Then you shall have it.
The man meets his end.
That is all that matters.
You brokered the sale of a woman from the House of Batiatus.
Dark of skin,
the mark of the domina upon the back of her shoulder.
Where is she?
Fuck yourself.
I am already dead.
There is yet life in you yet.
Speak, and see it ended quickly.
South?
There are villas and farms, far from the city.
And Naevia was sold to one of them?
No. She was handed from dominus to dominus.
A gift from Batiatus, to secure favor on his campaign
for fucking Aedile.
These places you speak of.
How heavily are they guarded?
It would not matter if the gods stood watch.
How many villas are there in the south?
Over what spread of distance?
How will you know if Naevia's even located in one of them?
Only a few are owned by men of note.
Cocks Batiatus would have sucked to further his cause.
To be exposed, in the open.
We must proceed with caution.
You? Advising caution?
The tempest shouts for the breeze to calm itself.
What good will your death be to Naevia,
if we do not pause to think?
She has been from my arms too long.
I do not have time to sit and ponder.
None of us do now.
What is your meaning?
With his last breath, Trebius frothed of Roman,
and the death that has been dispatched from her bosom,
to wash us away in rivers of blood.
Soldiers?
Arriving with the sun.
Who leads them?
The city is in a panic.
Scores were slaughtered in the raid against Arminius.
Halt!
See the men fed and rested.
Squads to sweep the countryside by nightfall.
Your will, Praetor.
Fall out.
Bring supplies.
Do you have enough men for this?
It does not appear you have enough men.
They face only slaves.
Not Hannibal at the gates.
They are gladiators.
Led by Spartacus, the Slayer of the Shadow of the--
Where is the Magistrate?
I would discuss this with someone of note.
He is otherwise detained, in view of last night's--
He sends apologies.
Seppius however is eager for audience.
The man has Praetor Varinius' ear.
I have no desire for his tongue
to fill mine as well.
I would address the people, put their minds to ease.
Tomorrow as the sun rises in the marketplace.
What will you say?
Attend to the arrangements.
Yes, Praetor.
Why have I been brought here?
Gaius, why have I been brought here?
To this House?
The hilltop offers excellent vantage
of the surrounding country.
The ludus below will easily garrison my men.
Then use it as such.
I will remove myself to my father's villa.
You will stay at my side.
Now, set the house to order.
This is our home now, Ilithyia.
Until Spartacus falls.
I want everything in this fucking house
seen over the cliff.
We will purchase a new appointment much coin.
If my husband would have me here,
he can certainly pay for the comfort.
And see all traces of blood cleansed.
It reeks of Batiatus and his faded bitch.
Go! Go!
Yes, Domina.
What has happened?
In matters concerning my wife,
the gods themselves fear to speculate.
Have you lost wit?
Speak.
You should have sent word you were coming...
We would have prepared a feast.
Lucretia.
You see it then? You see it?
Naevia! Bring wine for our honored guests.
Kill it. Kill it, KILL IT!
Praetor!
This is Batiatus' wife?
A shadow of the same.
And yet she lives.
To be spared from such carnage...
A blessing from the gods.
One that would calm a city,
if it were known to be such.
Naevia!
Apologies.
I do not know where she's gone.
Why do you pause?
She could prove a powerful symbol.
It would give the city hope,
to see a woman survive Spartacus and his men.
And courage to confront them,
speeding your return to Rome.
Gaius.
You cannot let her live.
See her bathed and tended.
And what fragments her shattered mind yet holds.
The Roman army?!
We are all of us dead!
Grab your fucking cock!
We never wanted this.
You gladiators, you will see us all to our end!
You little fuck!
Agron!
We knew this day would come.
Some have feared its approach.
Others have longed for it.
Yet few have grasped deeper meaning.
That this moment,
was always fated to be so.
I made promise.
To all of you, when the House of Batiatus fell.
That we would see Rome tremble.
You are the ones that shall quake.
I have witnessed Glaber and his men
entering the city.
Enough in number
to end your lives.
Then stand with us, and balance the odds.
Mercato has announced Glaber will make address
in the market as day breaks.
It would be wise to use the distraction,
and leave such thoughts behind.
Doctore...
That is no longer my title.
Where do you go?
There is but one place.
For an animal without honor.
He is lost to us.
How many more would you have follow?
Join with us, brother.
We can head south, while Glaber cups his balls
and makes speeches.
He's the reason I am here.
And my wife forever absent.
You often preach to me about caution.
Turn advice now towards self.
We are ready.
House slaves, playing at being men?
They are not gladiators.
They are not an army, as much you wish it to be so.
Sleep upon it, Spartacus.
But when the sun rises, I would see reason dawn.
Water.
How did we come by it, with the drought?
The drought is long past.
Do you not recall its ending?
It is of no concern.
Come, I would have you dry and seen to proper dress.
Your wound.
Wound?
How did you come by it?
Leave us.
It must have been terrible.
Trapped within these walls...
Your beasts running wild...
Everyone believed you dead,
smashed upon the cliffs...
Bits of bone and flesh
your only testament.
How did you survive, all alone?
Lucretia...
We are friends. Are we not?
The very best.
And you have so many.
Aemilia.
Caecilia.
Licinia.
Cousin to Marcus Crassus...
It would be a very great honor to be seen at her side.
Would you make introduction?
Let us see you dressed.
Ilithyia.
Why didn't you tell me?
You're with child!
Quintus and I have been trying for such a long time.
This is a sign.
A sign from the gods.
Life blossoms in the House of Batiatus...
This is why we are yet in Capua.
Why you saw Aurelia away.
You hoped they would send Glaber.
No.
I prayed for it.
And what do you pray for now?
To the Gods you do not believe in?
Would your wife have wanted this?
To see her husband consumed?
There are many things she would not have wanted.
And yet they are so.
Follow Crixus to the south.
Do not let your vengeance claim so many
you have saved from bondage.
I would not see another life forfeit to my desires.
We will find Naevia.
And move far beyond grasp of Rome.
Far from the name Spartacus they have branded you with.
Let us turn thought from uncertain future.
And embrace fleeting moment...
Get up!
Move to fucking purpose.
Be ready when word is given.
You bark as a dominus.
Sheep stand idle, if not prodded by snapping jaw.
Get up!!
Does the maw of a pup spur the same?
Let us compare teeth, and have answer.
Cease your quarrels.
I am for Spartacus, and the lay of his thoughts.
Last night they were towards heeding caution,
and joining you in the in the south.
And the light of morning?
He was gone from our bed when I awoke.
There is no cause for rising concerns!
The situation is well in control!
What of Arminius?!
Is that fucking control?!
No.
It was an act of savagery,
committed by animals who know nothing more.
These same beasts laid waste to the House of Batiatus.
Many were lost that night.
Women of proper standing.
Men of honor and position.
My own cousin Sextus, your beloved Magistrate
of years past, among the dead.
He speaks the truth!
At the hands of butchers,
who crave only blood and death.
And they shall see it returned in kind.
But Spartacus leads them!
Even Theokoles fell before him!
He's the bringer of rain!
Spartacus is but a man!
And not all fall to his touch.
The wife of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus
stood against the merciless assault
of Spartacus and his dogs!
And by favor of the gods...
she yet lives!
It's a miracle!
Gods be praised!
It is a blessing!
You stand eclipsed.
She is their herald,
plucked from the shores of the afterlife
to deliver a message!
That Spartacus shall never triumph
over the people of Capua!
He comes...
he comes...
Still yourself.
And yet the gods grace us with further signs
that Spartacus' end is near!
Get rid of her!
Gut the cunt!
My men came upon a clutch of Batiatus' slaves,
attempting harm in the mountains to the east.
This one is all that remains among the living.
Before she succumbs to her wounds,
I will force her tongue to purpose.
And with her dying breath,
she will tell me where Spartacus
and his men hide themselves.
And they shall be struck,
from this mortal world
by the hand Gaius Claudius Glaber!
Preening little shit.
I rather favor him.
Thank you.
Surround him!
Cease him!
Spartacus!
Cease him!
Take Aurelia and go!
Take him!
You cannot win this!
No!
Stay, and see vengeance forever denied.
You are no better than Rhaskos
and the fucking Gauls.
All driven only by your own desires.
Do any of us hold fucking worth to you?
The reason I went alone.
A hard comfort, if you had fallen to Glaber's men.
Agron would have led you south.
We need a leader.
Not some angry boy who can barely piss
without splashing everyone about him.
What would you have me do?
Turn from the man that condemned my wife to slavery?
Let him live,
that took everything from me?
Your heart still beats.
Place ear to chest,
and you will find it absent sound.
And yet you are not dead.
Because of you.
Know that you have my gratitude--
I didn't come to lend you aid, you mad fuck.
I came to stop you.
You would place yourself between Glaber and what he deserves?
As you would place yourself between Naevia and me.
What do you think would be the result
of killing a fucking praetor?
The Senate would burn upon itself,
belching forth fire and vengeance.
They would not send a few men,
as they do with Glaber.
They would send thousands.
A true army.
Which we will never be.
Aurelia calls for you.
Spartacus...
I am here.
Promise... me...
Anything.
Promise... you will stay far from my son.
I would not have him die in your wake...
as his father and mother...
Glaber and his men will pay in blood.
Gather swords--
No.
We move south.
To find Naevia.
Let Crixus and the other Gauls chase lost hope.
Spartacus -- The decision's been made.
We must stand as one.
Or fall divided.
A lesson hard learned.
Shackle will be struck from every slave upon our path.
We will see our numbers grow.
And when they have become legion,
we will face Glaber,
and the hordes of Rome again.
And the gods shall weep for their suffering.
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