If you go to war, you are destined for
for great and unfortunate things.
I would press north, towards the Alps.
Let's see our people to the winds.
We could press attack from the South.
Pompey could stay Spartacus
from gaining the mountains and slipping from grasp.
I will not be as gentle next time.
She has moved to join rebellion?
Five hundred of your men
for Tiberius' life --
The boy holds no value now.
Crassus will yet honor trade.
If you give him something else his heart desires.
Prepare the men for march.
I would press towards Spartacus
and see him to deserved end.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Spread word to your kind to strike
shackle from their slaves.
Or see their houses follow yours in blood and death.
Who are you?
I am Spartacus.
Another villa set upon.
What number holds total?
Six in half as many days.
I am Spartacus.
He lays assault with swiftness
to rival winged Mars.
Spartacus stands but mortal man.
I have yet held privilege of one that
could span distant ground within single breath.
You believe reports false?
I believe he lays strategy,
to set Pompey to confusion.
Chasing veiled spectre of the man himself.
We were charged with bringing
Spartacus to heel, not Pompey.
If the Thracian slips beyond the mountain,
burden of defeat shall rest upon our shoulders.
And those that have given life towards campaign.
There was nothing save cooling embers
in the rebel camp where Tiberius met his end.
Forward scouts are yet to have set eyes
upon Spartacus and his army.
See efforts doubled.
I would press the Thracian upon field of battle
at soonest opportunity.
And gaze into his eyes as life and hope
forever drain from them.
Lugo. See it done.
Many times have I marveled at mad
scheme sprung from fevered mind.
Yet one you now set forth towers above all.
We have confounded Pompey to the north,
yet Crassus still advances from the south
with overwhelming advantage.
Hope lies only in deciding field of final battle.
You weave barest tether to the promise of such.
It will hold long enough
for the others to slip from grasp.
I pray it so.
And would lend much needed aid
in giving Crassus fucking pause.
Grip sword. And have it so.
They have taken all from me.
You will yet serve purpose in coming battle.
By seeing those who cannot fight to the mountains.
Return to task with Nasir,
and prepare for journey.
The man is more dead than living.
And yet eager to give life to your cause.
My cause?
It does yet not stand your own?
I'm no martyr upon cross.
That will gladly give my life,
so that those more deserving may live.
Then take pause,
see heart attended in advance of parting.
It seems another life.
That I last stood in equal embrace with Crixus.
Much has been taken from us.
Soon we will face the legions of Rome.
And we will return bitter favor.
You crafted this?
We will lash hand to grip.
So it is not torn from grasp
if called to split Roman flesh.
I cannot flee to the mountains with the others.
Despite command, my place is upon field of battle.
As mine is forever by your side.
The hour is upon us.
I do not want to leave your arms.
Nor I see you from them.
Yet you must go with the others.
Come with me.
You know I must stay.
That you may reach the mountains,
live free of the Republic beyond them.
There is no life absent your touch.
You once said to me that the gods
had sent me to save you.
And you were mistaken.
You were the one sent.
And I in need of saving.
Your skills remain keen, Imperator.
I would sharpen them to deadly edge,
in advance of facing the Bringer of Rain.
He appears at peace.
Does he not?
Yes, Dominus.
It is false image of the boy I knew.
Forever of furrowed brow
and pressing concern.
A reflection of his father,
grave of face and disposition.
He was not always so. Was he?
No, Dominus. He was not always so.
The passing of years hardens a man
to the simple joys of life.
Until all that is left is a thing of stone,
cold and unforgiving.
I wish nothing more than journey
had set towards different path.
Give voice to slave that robbed him of life.
A man long in years.
With scars of his master etched upon flesh.
Would that he had been struck from this world,
so that Tiberius may yet be of it.
Apologies for intrusion.
We have received word from forward scouts.
Spartacus?
A clutch of his men sighted to the north.
Give order to break encampment
and fall to march.
Imperator.
War at last draws to its end.
As all things must,
born of man and misplaced desire.
The guards will see you returned
to where you belong.
You have not asked yet why I turned from you.
Could answer reverse course of time's passing?
Or erase memory of deepest wound?
No.
Yet I would give life to gaze upon
forgiveness in your eyes again.
For all that I have done.
If but I could be so moved.
Once beyond camp, you will divide number and path.
Better give chance of reaching mountains
absent discovery by Pompey.
I would count fortune more assured,
were you to lead us.
Crassus must be given pause.
So that you and the others may slip beyond grasp.
We will wait for you then, at foot of the mountains.
But I would not have it so.
Am I not free, to make own choice?
As you frequently remind.
Yet do not hazard life,
in hopes that I yet cling to my own.
You will not fall in battle against Crassus.
You now hold power to pierce
future's uncertain veil?
I hold but faith.
In a man like no other.
Gratitude. For your words.
And for what comfort your presence has given.
Go.
You are clear of purpose?
Never more so.
Yet Nasir and I shall not be among those
striking towards mountains.
We have broken words towards subject.
You cannot fight --
He has yet found way,
forged by loving hands.
Do not ask my own to lay idle in coming battle.
I have born witness to the fall of many
I have called brother.
You are the last yet living
that stood with me when Batiatus' ludus
was laid to ruin.
You honor me,
by standing again at my side in final conflict.
They are readied for journey.
My friends.
The time of our parting has come.
Know that you will be heavy upon thought
when we face Crassus and his legions.
Many of us will fall.
There remains strategy nor deception
that can bend course of inevitable fate.
Yet know that our blood...
...shall purchase needed opportunity
for you to gain mountain paths.
Beyond snapping jaws of Rome
that have plagued us with death...
...and misery.
Part ways.
And live free.
Gratitude. For all you've done.
Gratitude. Gratitude, Spartacus.
Gratitude. Gratitude Spartacus.
May the gods bless you.
Gratitude...
Gratitude.
Spartacus!
Roman scouts have laid eyes upon us
to the south of the valley!
What markings did they bear?
Fearsome bull upon chest.
Crassus.
Fucking bait is seized upon.
Set upon path, and do not turn from it!
Go!
I shall lend prayer.
Toward the end of Crassus.
And the triumph of Spartacus.
I have had my fill of words and tearful farewells.
I desire blood,
and cries of our enemy.
Let us make it so.
Halt!
Balistae ready!
Do not engage unless given command!
Stand ready!
Spear.
I do not seek quarrel!
Only to deliver message from Imperator Crassus!
Spear.
Break words.
And pray to your gods I find them of worth.
Have you ever witnessed such a thing?
So many hearts,
beating towards inevitable end?
Why did you call me here, Crassus?
The same reason you came.
Curiosity.
Well has it been satisfying?
We've vexed each other for many months.
Both suffering grievous wound upon effort.
Yet have never broken single word.
There are none that would hold difference.
Perhaps.
Yet I would still have them regardless.
Leave us.
Imperator --
Fall to command.
It is a thing known, is it not?
That you cannot win this conflict.
A sentiment shared.
By all the Romans I have killed
who held such belief.
My son among them.
Apologies Imperator I cannot give voice to regret of passing.
To the soldier that robbed Crixus of life.
The Gaul died upon field of battle.
An honor denied Tiberius.
It is not as I had commanded.
Yet the woman had been rudely treated
by his hands,
and her own claimed vengeance.
As mine are so moved in memory of my son.
And yours towards wife no longer --
Do not think to place your loss
upon equal footing.
Your son took up arms for the Republic.
The same one that saw my innocent wife torn from grasp
and condemned to slavery and death.
And now you would lead thousands
to join her in futile attempt.
Whatever happens to my people
it happens because we choose for it.
We decide our fates. Not you.
Not the Romans.
Not even the gods.
You choose but time and place of journey's end.
Better to fall by the sword
than by the master's lash.
And will it balm festering wound?
If the Bringer of Rain heralds miracle
and defeats Crassus and his legions,
will he withdraw from the Republic?
Content that he's brought those
who so injured him to justice?
There is no justice.
Not in this world.
At last.
A thing we agree upon.
When we again meet, I will kill you.
No. You are going to try.
It is all a free man can do.
You cannot place trust in the words of Spartacus.
What reason would he have
to twist tongue upon subject?
I do not pretend to know lay
of a savage's fucking thoughts.
Tell me again.
What hand struck Tiberius from this life?
One belonging to a man long in years,
as I have said --
Spartacus spoke of a woman.
Moved by vengeance.
He but attempts to turn us against each other
with plotted lie.
The threat of ruin carries upon such deceit,
if so embraced.
Yet only in the breaking of truth
swells hope of forgiveness.
It was my hand that moved against Tiberius,
and saw him from this world.
Was my touch so cruel?
That you would strike at heart through noble son?
Speak!
While you yet have throat to give voice!
You place blame upon victim!
Your "noble" fucking son forced himself inside her.
One of many acts that lead to deserved fate.
More lies!
It is the truth!
His love for you turned to hate
in the wake of the decimation.
And he struck at you the only way he could.
One he knew would inflict deepest wound.
Why did you not tell me?
I made attempt, upon Melia Ridge.
There is no misstep that would see father
withhold forgiveness from treasured son.
We did not wish to cause you further pain
absent reason, Marcus.
The cause of withholding truth.
Leave us.
A son is but reflection of the father.
Is this how I stand?
Twisted and grotesque?!
You stand as you always have.
A good man. That does what he must.
Apologies.
Apologies for all you've suffered.
Know that it shall end when Spartacus falls.
And unfortunate events of war
trod path of distant memory.
It is heavy burden.
Gaze at war's end. And weigh bitter cost of it.
You do not believe that we can defeat Crassus?
You are forever conjuring the impossible.
And I would not wager against you in final gambit.
Yet odds are not of a favor.
No. They are not.
I would offer drink to lift spirits,
but I have turned from it of late.
A thing not escaping notice.
I too turned from wild pursuits.
When possessed by purest heart.
You speak of your wife?
When we first lay together,
she told of how the gods delivered oracle in her dreams.
And foretold that I would never love another woman.
Did prophecy hold true?
I found comfort in others.
Yet there's an emptiness that can never be filled.
A void left where heart once beat,
when Sura was taken from me.
You once questioned how victory can be defined.
I thought answer held in Roman deaths.
A position no longer taken?
Life is what defines it.
Not the death of Romans.
Nor ours, nor those that follow us into battle.
But the life of Sibyl.
Of Laeta, the mother and her child,
so many others.
They are all Sura.
And I would see them live.
A cause even I can embrace.
If we are to give the others any chance against Crassus,
you must do more than embrace it.
You must lead.
An old argument, Spartacus.
One that must now stand settled.
I cannot do this without you assuming rightful position.
One that there is none more deserving of.
What would you have me do?
The impossible.
The men stand ready?
They do, Imperator.
Gratitude.
For loyal service.
Spartacus stands the fool,
to face our legions with so few.
He has proven himself many things.
A fool not among them.
They stand an ocean.
As when Crixus was swept from the shores of the living.
They but offer opportunity.
To swim in a sea of Roman blood.
Great and unfortunate things.
What meaning do words carry?
A warning, given voice by loving wife.
To a man who no longer exists.
Soon Crassus will give command!
And we shall face his legions in open battle!
We stand in the shadow of greater might!
As their Republic cast across the lives of every man...
every woman... And every child...
condemned to the darkness of slavery!
Forced to toil and suffer,
so that those of coin and position
can see their fortunes grow beyond need or purpose!
Let us teach them,
that all who draw breath are of equal worth!
And that those that seek to place heel
upon the throat of liberty...
Will fall to the cry of freedom!
No wounded enemy is to be blessed
with merciful passing!
I would make example of all those who dare raise
hand against the glory of Rome!
Raise ballistae and catapults.
Go!
Ignite!
Ready! Release!
Forward!
Sound advance!
And see Rebellion distant memory!
Advance!
Take position!
Hold...
Hold!
Charge!
Archers!
Now!
The savage yet proves resourceful.
He but delays coming tide with grains of sand.
Give signal to form testudo!
They fall to predicted maneuver.
Let us show them one unexpected.
Now!
Raise command for ballistae and catapults!
You would rain death upon our own men?
I would end this fucking war!
Do not turn from advance!
Press forward!
The slaves fall to superior
strategy and tactic.
As do Romans beneath our command.
An unfortunate loss.
Yet one gladly accepted, to bring Spartacus to his end --
Riders approaching!
About face!
Turn ballistae! Quickly!
You there! Defend the left flank!
Caesar! Take command of rear position!
Do not let them fall to confusion!
We must withdraw!
No! That is what he expects!
Sound horn and advance!
Hi-ya!
Castus!
Would that I had been you...
... for but a day.
Agron!
Shore your flank!
Do not let them close upon us!
Nasir!
Naevia! Aid Gannicus!
Move!
Come!
Spartacus!
Hi-ya!
Imperator!
Protect the Imperator!
Crassus!
It is a glorious day!
To have so many Romans to kill!
It is but one life that holds meaning.
Draw attention upon field.
I shall claim it.
Hold the line!
Seize amphoras and see them to purpose!
Caesar!
Send for the medicus!
I need no soothing balm.
Only to return to field
with rebel blood hot upon face.
Do not place yourself at further risk.
If you fall,
Spartacus would gain advantage --
I have longed to meet you in true contest.
As I have longed to see your head
parted from fucking neck.
Saxa!
I made promise.
That time next we met...
I would have your life.
Come then.
And attempt to take it.
Formation!
This does not belong to you, slave.
No!
Rotate!
Hold!
Halt!
Would that you had been born a Roman.
And had stood beside me.
I bless the fates...
that it was not so.
Agron!
Give me a sword...
Imperator --
Fall by my side and retake hill!
Sweep surrounding hills!
Imperator!
The gods once more aid Spartacus
in slipping from fucking grasp.
He weeps from a thousand wounds.
And if heart yet beats,
it shall cease at briefest passing --
There are many who have followed mad cause
that still cling to fading life.
See them to promised example upon Appian Way.
And let all slaves,
upon road to Mother Rome know reward
for turning hand against master.
Ignoble end.
For a legend that once stood a god of the arena.
Legends are but bone and meat of dreams.
Rotting in the harsh sun of reality.
It is hard sight.
To see one so loved among the damned.
She was known to be of the rebellion.
I have forgiven reason.
Yet do what I must.
Pompey.
Praise the gods to find you well old friend.
I'd feared that Spartacus and his rebels had overrun you,
before I ratted them in the north.
The north?
He came upon rebel army attempting
to gain the mountains.
Dispatch has already been sent to Rome,
naming Pompey victor
against enemy you could not quell.
You claim false laurels.
Spartacus was defeated --
-- in the north. By valiant Pompey,
hero of Hispania.
You honor me.
I but honor Rome.
And those of like mind, that would see it flourish.
Then we are one in such regard.
Let us break meal on your return.
After all that we have suffered,
you allow Pompey to snatch triumph
from deserving hands?
Supporting claim he will be made ally.
We shall stand fearsome triumvirate,
with means to bend the course of history.
You forever speak of the future.
The past cannot be altered.
The present holds but regret and loss.
It is only in the days to come
that a man may find solace.
When memory fades.
Gannicus! Gannicus! Gannicus!...
He yet lives.
We've gained the mountains.
We waited for you, as promised.
All safe?
Pompey set upon other half.
Many were lost.
We must see him to mountain path,
before we too are discovered.
Stay hand.
I would rest awhile.
We cannot stay here.
No, you cannot.
Nor can I follow.
Spartacus... Spartacus.
Spartacus.
That is not my name.
I shall finally hear it again.
Given voice by loving wife...
in greeting longed for...
Do not shed tear.
There is no greater victory...
than to fall from this world...
a free man.
One day Rome shall fade and crumble.
Yet you shall always be remembered.
In the hearts of all who yearn for freedom.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com