Original subtitles

Death arises again.

Upon wings of your instruction.

Achillea honors this house in fucking primus!

Can she fight? The end of month.

Who stands above all others beyond Achillea? Let us go on.

Caesar maneuvers Pompey towards alignment with himself and Crassus. If

triumvirate, Republic and all within will fall to severest concern.

I have been asked to consider marriage to Pompey. He but marries to his power

and position.

What man does not?

The one before you.

My God has.

I see how her eyes fall upon you and yours upon her. And you would deny me

same comfort that you seek in the hall.

You caught me suddenly.

You are the past.

I forge my own future.

Grievous loss, if such thing were allowed to happen.

Gabinius would not be offering his fucking daughter to Pompey if you had

interfered in proposed coupling with Quintus Stannis. Viridia is to be

to Pompey. Remove yourself, both of you. Go.

You have undone everything Crassus and my noble husband have worked towards.

There must stand a way to stop this.

Is it marriage to Pompey that so moves you?

Or thought of Viridia in the arms of another?

You stray from pressing concerns. As you stray from reason, harboring desire

towards one far beyond your station. My desires do not change fact.

If Pompey's allowed to marry Viridia, he will forever be aligned with Gabinius

and have his ear in the Senate, swaying them to his will against Crassus and

your noble fucking husband.

I shall send message to Caesar informing him of your failure.

I suggest you mirror.

Walking up at an alert and crapping.

I broke words with him before he faced the severe.

They were not kind.

I have never been farther than some of my shared sons.

I would deter it falling.

In the arena in this place.

He would not wish it so.

Words broken in anger can never erase his love for you.

What is to be done with him?

He will be washed and wrapped in shroud.

Then taken to funeral pyre.

I would see him cleansed by my hands alone.

So shall it be.

Doctor, how do you move

beyond it?

By keeping close those who remain.

Who claimed his fucking life?

A Scythian.

She does not carry a name.

Gelidus fell to a woman.

I stand unsure the creature could be called such.

If I had not fallen to altercation and injured hand, she would be called

fucking afterlife.

Such outcome far from certain.

The Scythian takes form unlike any I've ever laid eyes upon.

The bitch could stand Colossus, and I would yet see scales balanced for what

she's taken from me. From you.

has lost his father.

And I, the only man in this fucking house I call friend.

Boncoming days with purpose towards forging more.

I must see him.

Torkon prepares his father for funeral rites.

I am denied opportunity to break farewells. Words last shared must hold

such.

We spoke of his son and rift formed between them because of me.

Disagreement seldom thrives but within single.

heart.

I moved to find resolution for Gelidus.

It filled him to death.

Tarkon yet lives.

Honor his father's memory and see conflicts of the past abandoned.

I could see you right above all of it.

Once again, we feel the bitter sting of loss.

A warm embrace so cherished, torn from us too soon, yet

has moved beyond the swell of sorrow and fixed eyes upon days ahead, shadowed

and uncertain.

As they may present.

troubles you?

Pain lingers, yet purpose is fucking stored.

Passing of days heals even the deepest of wounds.

Not all wounds.

Pompey arrives in Capua?

To meet with Gabinius.

Towards further discussion of union with Viridia.

What of Caesar?

Does he accompany the consul? He does.

And wishes to break fucking words with you.

ever stood such a vision.

I do not feel as such.

No woman truly ever sees herself as the world does.

Yet, gaze upon your reflection in eyes of loving mother and know

it is so.

You leave us.

This belonged to your grandmother.

Would that she yet drew breath to see you so elevated.

Tell me of him.

Pompey?

You are well -versed in military victories and

laurels showered upon him, as all Romans are.

Legend presents cold company.

I would know of the man.

He is disarming of smile and attitude.

Yet, oft, upon occasion, distant and cold.

As all men veer upon time and mood.

Father does not stand, sir.

Opinion of your father was formed through lens of beloved child.

Unclouded vision of wife beholds.

All facets of... complicated relationship.

Your words do not carry original passion towards marriage to Pompey. They but

caution reality.

Place thoughts of love aside and fix minds firmly upon benefit and protection

such union provides.

Protection?

What imagined threat requires such?

All men pass from this life.

And when regretful day arrives and your father succumbs to sad tradition, we

must be secure in knowledge that you are protected from those who would see you

toward disadvantage.

You speak of Uncle Servius?

He looms but one of many.

To hold towards concern.

Then union not only serves Republic, but honoured mother

and daughter as well.

It is you who honour me.

Cease measured chatter and let us move towards egress.

Would not have Pompey standing idle upon arrival

I'm

ready

Storm of shit you have conjured arrives.

You've been too long for my art.

As I've been yours.

And when my husband had fallen to Spartacus, he stood high and tendered

Such a man is wasted upon a woman of slight experience.

Counsel.

Capua stands in amazement to at last host such exalted company.

Apologies for delayed arrival, Senator. Caesar and I have had much to discuss.

Pleasure delayed is but pleasure enhanced.

You recall, beloved wife and daughter.

Seared into memory.

At last I laid eyes, you were but a child.

How you have blossomed.

You flatter.

He but states the obvious.

Just that.

And is this the Therian Gaius, who stands Crassus' man in Capua? In all his

glory.

I am humbled in your presence, Consul.

Gaius has been regaling me with stories of your new being.

I would set aside quarrel with patron Crassus and witness spectacle for

Let us retire to the Therian's villa.

To desire and satisfy.

I shall rejoin directly, yet first would break further word with good Gabinius

regarding proposed union.

To fairest daughter.

My villa stands as your own. Let us remove ourselves from midday sun to take

refreshment. What divine future benefiting all.

Smile, you fucking shit. I'll have your life where you stand.

I fall from presence for briefest moment and return to find piss in place of

wine. Apologies.

You yet to oppress by grace of crassest patronage. Absent such those foolish

enough to hold you to heart, you'd be mourning fucking lust.

Did I not warn against laying trust in him?

Men such as this always believe they can maneuver beyond their better.

Apologies. I hold deepest regret for my misjudgment of the past.

Yet, I would look towards horizon and solution to current dilemma.

The turtle sprout wings and become soaring dust.

The gods perform such miracles daily and have blessed the Syrian towards exalted

purpose. You have thoughts on the matter?

Litify towards action. I have consulted Crassus via messenger and we are in

agreement of path forward.

Illuminate. so Asher may swiftly trot upon it. If Gabinius no longer stood

senator, Pompey's interest would quickly wane.

You intend to remove Gabinius from the senate?

No. I intend to remove him from fucking life.

You would send the old fool to grass.

How will Hans remain clean of deed?

By task, falling to another's.

Heredia places her father above all others.

There must be another way.

Then produce fucking alternatives.

I cannot do this.

If Union moves forward, Crassus shall withdraw patronage.

And in wake of such, you shall stand exposed, Sirian.

Yet the matter's a fateful conclusion, and he's expressed willingness to

entertain your plea.

To rebuild the arena destroyed by Spartacus and his rebels, granting you

of it.

And of all games within Capua.

He has promised this?

He has.

Though you stand a free man, Sirion, carrying such responsibility, such

affords, the choice is yours.

Message carrying offer of marriage was most unexpected.

Did it find favor?

It is a difficult thing to turn mine towards marital bliss when other

interests weigh upon mine.

Such are the burdens of a consul of the Republic.

As Crassus also stands.

You are but mirrors towards one another.

Equal in reflecting highest position among the Senate.

You would place us upon level.

I would but see tensions eased and feet moved towards common ground.

As would I.

Yet we stand, unfortunately, opposed within the Senate.

Crassus towards tax policies to fill his coffers, and I towards more honourable

pursuit of seeing my men, so vital in the defeat of Spartacus, to proper

of land and coin, commensurate with effort.

There may yet be revealed path forward.

However narrow.

Let us thread needle of possibility.

If my voice could move Senate towards your desires, then perhaps yours could

lend support to those of Crassus.

Perhaps. Such an agreement would first need to see respective armies dissolved

outside the gates of Rome, a contingent from both dispatched... to at last

address mounting Silesian threat.

They have become rather bothersome. And I would see them all nailed upon cross

for offence against beleaguered citizens.

Those closest to me among them.

Tell me of your daughter.

Your eyes have beheld her beauty, have they not?

Gloriously so. Yet I inquire towards the mind of the woman.

She is of keen intellect, holding knowledge towards literature, rhetoric,

logic, the histories, languages, Greek being of second nature. You

the question.

How bends her mind towards a will of husband?

She grasps meaning of the word.

Duty. And all it implies.

I fear you have lost the game.

Yet gain for haunted son -in -law.

News to lift heart.

Yet know it beats with the love of a father towards only child.

One I would see happy and cared for.

Given all courtesy and respect.

Imagined.

For the glory of the Republic.

Apologies. We do not mean to interrupt your game.

Game has reached satisfactory conclusion.

Bless the gods, daughter.

You are to be wed.

What wondrous news.

Indeed.

I look forward to consummation of the union between our families, dearest

Viridia.

I could never have dreamed of such a day.

Why do I fucking linger?

I... Apologies for a moment. I thought... I give no shit towards

thoughts.

You claim your father's cell as your own?

As is my fucking right.

As son.

He would not have wished this.

You and I, standing in constant opposition.

Then relinquish title of champion and see disagreement fade.

This is all that consumes you? Even now?

Glory in the arena?

I am consumed.

Seeing my father revenged, to stand upon the sands of fucking Trimus and claim

life, Scythianid took him from me.

Such revenge does not belong to you.

I am the champion of this house.

Mantle seized absent proper contest.

Against the man before you.

I see but a boy.

Achillea, Tarkon.

Pompey arrives full to formation.

And see passions quelled.

This is where it began.

Staticus and his rebellion that so threatened the Republic.

The mad fox claimed the life of the former Dominus of his house.

As well as many prominent Romans.

And yet the Syrian survived.

I was not yet among those of privilege. Yes.

The gladiator's slave who turned against his own, raising question anew.

How did you survive?

By fortitude and wit.

Home. By years among the brotherhood. From humble beginnings to humble

Let us not gauge a man's worth by a faded past, but a vaunted offerings of

here and now.

Let it be so.

Achillea, present yourself.

She stands of a form as promised.

Savage barely survived contest in the arena. Yes, survived she did, and stood

victorious against opponent of greater size and skill. I would weigh merit with

eyes my own.

Whatever the consul desires, Asher provides.

Choose among my men who shall face her. All stand tight and shall provide

thrilling adversary.

What of that one?

Apologies, Consul.

This man offers little challenge.

I would present you with spectacle more worthy of storied name.

A savage, as so indicated.

I shall see her to discipline for speaking beyond her station.

Doctore!

Hold.

She is but bold of purpose, a thing to be admired.

Let us entertain request.

Who would you choose to honor me, champion?

Tarkon, son of Kelidus.

The son of Kelidus gladly accepts.

Natori.

See practice weapons to their hands.

Practice? Is this not proper contest?

Your will, consul.

Natori.

See wood.

Avoid steel.

Dacus, attend.

Come.

She adopts style dissimilar to one during the games of Lydia Polonaris.

Circumstance of injury requires shift in strategy.

Are we to prattle until sun breaks?

They but ready themselves, Counsel.

Upon the moment, you shall have blood.

Present entertainment, yet slip no towards fatal conflict.

Let us decide who is truly deserving a fucking title. Gratitude.

For opportunity to see you for.

Begin.

Rubian does not disappoint.

The youngling draws blood.

Return in kind, bandit. Wine!

your champion fade, as all dreams must when faced with stark reality.

As was his father.

I would see him live.

Helia.

I am of a buoyant mood.

Raised aloft by impending nuptials, she stands victor.

The boy's life is hers to do as she pleases.

You have had your proper contest.

and yet live because of debt owed to your father.

She truly exceeds expectation.

As Venus Victrix, earthed in flesh, demanding praise.

Worship of such, perhaps, better suited to his more intimate contemplation.

Notion well received.

Return.

Ava bathed and sent to me.

Let us take food and wine, then.

Until appointed time.

Hilara, I will have you linger and assist Taurus' urgent

matter.

You ask the impossible, Hilara. It is of vital importance to this house.

You mean to your dominos?

You shall never see feelings deeply held for him returned, if he is capable of

them at all. I know they'll cling to such hopes.

Yet in aiding him in this act, it will evoke bloodshed and ruin.

For all beneath this roof.

Never think you would think such a bit of meal is part of the man's lips.

Why do you stand as dough faced with Hunter's arrow?

The parties.

I... Busy yourself with drawing a bath?

The Syrian maids forgive intimate hands.

Yet those of a Roman's body slave must never fall to such.

I shall see it done.

You favor the girl.

She has proven adequate mortal upon your absence.

And now, the loving husband has returned.

Thoughts turn towards more substantial things.

I am your man, then.

I am to lay with Pompey? It is a thing often requested of champions.

Spartacus, Gannicus before him, both commanded to our same and fell to

compliance.

Yet, if you do as I instruct, absent discovery, Pompey will be unable to lay

hand upon you, nor shall Cog ever straighten to his offense.

If such is your will.

I do not wish it so, yet I stand bereft of a fucking option.

Dominus.

Were you able to acquire what I've asked of you?

Mercy has seen to it.

And perhaps the gods will not fuck us this day.

See message dispatched.

Then Achillea, to all our fucking guests.

Go.

The boy you fought, why did you petition for his life?

It was not his life that held concern.

I knew his father before he fell.

He was one of the Syrians' men.

He stood champion of this house for but a moment.

Well, interest lies in current owner of title.

So tell me, how did you find yourself guest of our fair republic?

Through circumstances of misfortune.

As most who find themselves so.

Generalities are the comfort of lesser intellect. I would seize upon more

revealing detail.

I was sold to the Romans.

It's an occurrence not uncommon.

It was by hand of my own father.

Details revealed.

Did he hate you so to condemn you to slavery in a foreign land?

His love for me was beyond measure.

And yet, here you stand.

Aaron Spear took the life of a royal.

One I was sworn to protect.

Now we come to the meat of it. Such a thing as punishable by death in my

kingdom.

Giving me to the Romans was a mercy in his eyes.

I would have no line.

That would I.

Move with a grace beyond those of abject station.

Gratitude.

But it's not meant as compliment.

Merely observation.

Gratitude remains, despite intention.

I've never had a Nubian.

Nor I a consul of Rome.

Had not promised to cherish the daughter of Gabinius been sworn but hours past.

We would see such mutual failing rectified.

A pity then.

The gods are angry.

When do they stand otherwise?

I would keep her match.

Cliff has been known to claim the unsuspecting.

And why has war never been repelled to prevent calamity?

Some things defy the pair, in spite of will to hold otherwise.

He comes to me.

In my dreams.

As it often is with those we have lost.

I make attempt to call them.

Yet tongue becomes a stone.

Does he speak to you?

He does.

Yet I cannot hear him.

I would give on to break words with him once more.

As you shall.

On a day.

As I shall with Obiter.

When we fall from this world towards welcome upon distant shore.

Yet while we remain of this world.

I would see aid given Achillea.

She does not fucking require it. She is but bone and meat as any other.

And she will face the freshly born champion of the House of Proculus in

games.

Let us see her towards vengeance.

I would ask to see her later.

You are far removed from favor with your Dominus.

Yet I will broach request upon opportunity.

My father did not care for her.

Athena herself would not have stood worthy of your affections.

In his eyes.

You have afforded yourself with measured grace beyond courtesy of years.

And did heart swell towards that of loving husband in place of one presented

through necessity?

I shall find joy in knowledge that I have honored my father, who

I hold closest to heart.

Oh, do not let your mother hear you break such words.

I shall miss our games.

And I'm no longer of this house.

Well, you are yet among us.

Let us embrace each day by hour and minute.

And we shall play.

Apologies. Dispatch arrives.

We'll see it set aside towards later hour.

Apologies once more. It carries from Pompey himself.

Leave it here.

What does future husband convey?

He tarries at the Syrian's villa and requests my immediate fucking presence.

Send reply that I stand regrettably occupied and I shall broach gathering

morning light.

Dominus. Wait.

Duty towards Republic beckons. I would not see vital purpose set aside for

pleasure of mere game.

no matter how desired.

Set board, and I shall return to you as fleetly as obligation allows.

Why have I been summoned?

common plague.

Pompey's mind is his own. I will not presume to fathom what thoughts lie

it. Forever magnanimous in response, a thing your perceived betters could glean

instruction from. I but serve the Republic and those who guide her through

darkest nights.

There stood a time I received such humble prostration as coming ruse to

favor.

Yet.

Your embrace of the necessity of union between beloved daughter and the man you

lead me towards begs differing conclusion.

I would know of it if so inclined.

That you truly place the Republic above personal desire.

Again, a thing your betters could take lesson from.

You honor me.

You honor yourself, Asher.

You have earned such consideration, navigating treacherous waters of oft

-tempestuous acquaintance.

It is of greatest comfort to see them calm between us.

Sentiment deeply shared.

If father were yet known to you, he would stand as

proud as the man you see before you.

That his son set aside impossible notions of the heart and accepted

what must be.

Yet, take comfort in thought that Viridian considers you fondly.

And I suspect Oreshal.

Come, bumpier waves.

Ahem.

Night churns beyond reason.

I will make excuses. I see meeting delay. It's a more favorable hour. I'm

now upon appointed moment. Let us to purpose and see matter concluded.

What's that so urgent that you call upon me to... What is this fucking shit?

Don't say... Remove yourself. Go!

Apologies.

Pompey requested closer inspection of my champion. I did not know. You swear to

see my daughter treated with love and respect and with insane breath.

Fuck me as you fuck and you'll be enslaved.

What is this?

What has happened? An end to proposed marriage and severance of fucking

association.

Place cock where whim dictates and may disease see it wither upon vine.

Gather yourself, Consul. I shall attempt to calm and flame humors.

Cabinius.

What finds you here at such hour?

Unseized by tempestuous mood.

Unaddressed beneath this fucking roof.

Pompey. The man has proved himself the villain Crassus has always assumed.

Curse upon me. I'm not gleaning truth with eyes my own.

He is nothing more than arrogant shit overflowing with military laurels in

of spirit and fucking soul.

Harshest of words towards a consul of Rome.

Fuck title and all pretense bestowed.

He but sees himself reflected in the eyes of everyone he beholds. Senator, I

of you, let us give pause and consider... There stands nothing to

unfolding years absent the name Pompey Magnus ever being conjured by favorable

tongue. Let us take wine to quiet the... I will not be quelled. Pompey reforms

his enemy to me.

Equal in spiteful intent of the fucking solutions he fails to bring to justice.

You wound me!

I have to trust!

What... What cause have I given towards such

wrath? What cause?

I bend...

to requested summons only to find you entwined with the Nubian and you cry,

fucking cause?

I have no memory of summoning you or bedding the Nubian.

An excess of wine does not negate grievous insults. I beg you, we must not

override passions to think I ever considered fucking union towards you

treasured daughter.

You are beneath her and shall forever remain so.

Send word to Crassus.

I would meet to discuss granting him my full support in the Senate to stand in

opposition of the shitfuck Pompey.

What have you fucking done?

Call your medicate. I have no fucking medicate.

Consul. Pay his horse.

Quickly.

I will see to this. You must flee. I didn't mean... The intent tumbles

irrelevance. I have sent. Come. The seal away.

I have underestimated you,

Sirius. You have halted union between Viridian Pompey as commanded.

Absent blood upon your hands.

Not mean for this.

I did not want this.

You.

You did this. No.

She will know, Olivia.

Olivia.

We'll know.

The man, he knew truth out.

No, she will not. No, she will not.

They hold that we among it are lesser.

They stand above us and bring us shadow.

Show them who we truly are.