Original subtitles

The goddess of death rises again.

Upon wings of your instruction.

Achillia honors this house

in fucking Primus!

Can she fight?

By end of month.

Who stands above all others beyond Achillia?

There is but one.

Caesar maneuvers Pompey

towards alignment with himself and Crassus.

If they form triumvirate,

republic and all within will fall to severest concern.

I have been asked to consider marriage to Pompey.

He but marries towards power and position.

- What man does not? - The one before you.

My goddess.

I see how her eyes fall upon you.

And yours upon her.

And you would deny me the same comfort

that you seek with your whore?

And call me son no more.

You are the past.

I forge my own future.

It stands grievous loss

if such thing were allowed to happen.

Gabinius would not be offering

his fucking daughter to Pompey

if you had not interfered

in proposed coupling with Quintus Thermus.

Viridia is to be married 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 concern.

As you stray from reason,

harboring desire towards one far beyond your station.

My desires do not change fact.

If Pompey is 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 fucking effort in alerting Crassus.

I broke words with him

before he faced the Scythian.

They were not kind.

There has never been father and son who have not shared such.

I would that I had fallen

in the arena in his 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.

Doctore?

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.

Celadus 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 towards 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?

The boy has lost his father.

And I the only man in this fucking house I called friend.

Balm coming days with purpose towards forging more.

I must see him.

Tarchon prepares his father for funeral rites.

I am denied opportunity to break farewells?

Words last shared must hold for 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 Celadus...

yet failed in attempt.

Tarchon yet lives.

Honor his father's memory

and see conflicts of the past abandoned.

I am your father, Tarchon,

you are my son.

I would see you

rise above all others.

Once again,

we feel the bitter sting of loss.

Warm embrace, so cherished,

torn from us too soon.

Yet let's move beyond the swell of sorrow

and fix eyes upon days ahead,

shadowed

and...

...uncertain

as they may present.

Achillia!

Wild cunt.

Evaporate.

Hand no longer troubles you?

Pain lingers, yet purpose is fucking restored.

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.

Has there 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.

Leave us.

This belonged to your grandmother.

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

Tell me of him.

- Pompey? - Mm.

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 so.

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 mind 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 honored mother

and daughter as well.

It is you

who honor me.

Cease leisured chatter and let us move towards egress.

I would not have Pompey standing idle upon arrival.

I am ready.

The storm of shit you have conjured arrives.

You've been too long from my arms.

As I from yours.

I would my husband had fallen to Spartacus

and stood I intended bride.

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

Consul.

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

Apologies for delayed arrival, Senator.

Caesar and I have had much to discuss.

Oh, pleasure delayed is but pleasure enhanced.

You recall beloved wife,

and... daughter.

Seared into memory.

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

How you have blossomed.

You flatter.

He but states the obvious.

Just so.

And is this the Syrian, 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 Nubian.

I would set aside quarrel with patron Crassus

and witness spectacle for myself.

Let us retire to the Syrian's villa,

see desires satisfied.

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.

And plot divine future benefiting all.

Smile, you fucking shit,

or 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, I--

You yet draw breath by grace of Crassus' patronage.

Absent such, those foolish enough

to hold you to heart

would be mourning fucking loss.

Did I not warn against laying trust in him?

Men such as this always believe

they can maneuver beyond their betters.

Apologies.

I hold deepest regret for my misjudgment of the past.

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

The toad would sprout wings and become soaring dove.

The gods perform such miracles daily...

...and have blessed the Syrian

towards exalted purpose.

You have thoughts on the matter?

Solidified towards action.

I have consulted Crassus via messenger,

and we are in agreement of path forward.

Illuminate, so Ashur may swiftly trod 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 hands remain clean of deed?

By task falling to another's.

No.

Viridia places her father above

all others.

There must be another way.

Then produce fucking alternative.

I...

I cannot do this.

If union moves forward,

Crassus shall withdraw patronage.

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

Yet see matter to fateful conclusion,

and he has expressed willingness to entertain your plea

to rebuild the arena destroyed by Spartacus and his rebels,

granting you control of it

and of all games within Capua.

He has promised this?

He has.

You stand a free man, Syrian,

carrying such responsibility such agency affords.

The choice is yours.

Message carrying offer of marriage was most unexpected.

Did it find favor?

It is a difficult thing to turn mind towards marital bliss

when other pressing interests weigh upon mind.

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 honorable pursuit of seeing my men,

so vital in the defeat of Spartacus,

to proper reward 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 Cilician 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,

uh, rhetoric, logic, the histories,

languages, Greek being of second nature.

You misunderstand the question.

How bends her mind towards will of husband?

She grasps meaning of the word

duty...

...and all it implies.

Hmm.

I fear you have lost the game...

...yet gained vaunted 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.

To the glory of the republic.

Ah. Apologies.

We do not mean to interrupt your game.

Ah, 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.

Hmm.

I could never have dreamed of...

such a day.

Achillia...

Why do eyes fucking linger?

I...

Apologies. For a moment, I thought--

I give no shit towards turning of your 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 but consumed

with seeing my father avenged,

to stand upon the sands of fucking Primus

and claim life of the Scythian that 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.

Achillia. Tarchon.

Pompey arrives. Fall to formation,

and see passions quelled.

This is where it began.

Spartacus and his rebellion that so threatened the republic.

The mad fucks claimed the life

of the former dominus of this house.

As well as many prominent Romans.

And yet the Syrian survived.

I was not yet among those of privilege.

Yes.

The gladiator slave who turned against his own,

raising question anew-

how did you survive?

By fortitude and wit.

Honed by years among the Brotherhood.

From humble beginnings

to humble present.

Let us not gauge a man's worth by faded past

but of vaunted offerings of the here and now.

Let it be so.

Achillia! Present yourself.

She stands of a form, as promised.

Savage barely survived contest in the arena.

Yet survive she did, and stood victorious

against opponent of greater size and skill.

I would weigh merit with eyes my own.

Whatever the consul desires, Ashur provides.

Choose among my men who shall face her.

All stand titan, 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?

Tarchon,

son of Celadus.

The son of Celadus gladly accepts.

Doctore,

see practice weapons to their hands.

Practice? Is this not proper contest?

Your will, Consul.

Doctore,

see wood give way to steel.

Dacus, attend!

Come.

She adopts style dissimilar to one

during the games of the Ludi Apollinares.

Circumstance of injury requires shift in strategy.

Are we to prattle until sun breaks?

They but ready themself, Consul.

Upon the moment, you shall have blood.

Present entertainment,

yet slip not towards fatal conflict.

Let this decide who is truly deserving of fucking title.

Gratitude...

...for opportunity to see you fall.

Begin!

Your Nubian does not disappoint.

The youngling draws blood.

Returned in kind.

Splendid.

Wine!

Oh, your champion fades.

As all dreams must, when faced with stark reality.

Oh!

Well fought!

Claim his life!

He has proven worthy opponent, Consul,

as was his father.

I would see him

- live. - Achillia.

I am of a buoyant mood,

raised aloft by my 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 towards more...

intimate contemplation?

Notion well received.

Attend.

Have her bathed and sent to me.

Let us take food and wine, then.

Until appointed time.

Hilara.

I would have you linger

and assist

towards urgent matter.

You ask the impossible, Hilara.

It is of vital importance to this house.

You mean to your dominus.

You shall never see feelings deeply held for him returned,

if he is capable of them at all.

I no longer cling to such hopes.

Yet in aiding him in this act,

it will avert bloodshed and ruin

for all beneath this roof.

I ask you this as friend

who once you embraced above all others.

The way he leers

as if considering the taste of your flesh.

It's not unthinkable such forbidden meal

has parted the man's lips.

Why do you stand as doe faced with hunter's arrow?

Apologies. I...

Busy yourself with drawing of bath.

The Syrian may forgive indolent 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 morsel upon your absence.

Hmm.

And now that loving husband has returned?

Thoughts turn towards more...

substantial feast.

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 towards 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 cock ever straighten towards offence.

If such is your will.

I do not wish it so.

Yet I stand bereft of fucking option.

Dominus.

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

Messia has seen to it.

Then perhaps the gods not fuck us this day.

See message dispatched,

then Achillia to honored fucking guest.

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 Syrian's 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.

Hmm. Generalities are the comfort of lesser intellect.

I would seize upon more revealing detail.

I was sold to the Romans.

Mm, it's an occurrence not uncommon.

It was by hand of my own father.

Ah.

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.

Errant spear took the life of royal.

One I was sworn to protect.

Now we come to the meat of it.

Such a thing is punishable by death in my kingdom.

Giving me to the Romans

was a mercy,

in his eyes.

I would have more wine.

As would I.

You move with a grace beyond those of abject station.

Gratitude.

It was not meant as compliment. Merely observation.

Gratitude remains...

...despite intention.

I must confess,

I've never had a Nubian.

Nor I a consul of Rome.

Had not promise 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 from edge.

Cliff has been known to claim the unsuspecting.

Then why has wall never been rebuilt to prevent calamity?

Some things defy repair,

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 to him...

yet tongue becomes as stone.

Does he speak to you?

He does...

yet I cannot hear him.

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

As you shall,

upon a day.

As I shall with Opiter,

when we fall from this world

towards welcome upon distant shore.

Yet while we remain of this world,

I would see aid given Achillia.

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 coming games.

Let us see her towards vengeance.

I would ask to see Elata.

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.

Would that heart swelled 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.

Hmm.

I shall miss our games

when I'm no longer of this house.

Oh...

Well, you are yet among us.

Let us embrace each day by hour and minute.

Set board,

and we shall play.

Apologies. Dispatch arrives.

Ah, well see it set aside towards later hour.

Apologies once more. It carries from Pompey himself.

Ah, give it here.

What does future husband convey?

Hmm. 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 upon morning light.

Dominus.

Wait.

- Duty towards Republic beckons. - Oh.

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.

Door!

Why have I been summoned as if common slave?

Pompey's mind is his own.

I would not presume to fathom what thoughts lie within 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 night.

There stood a time I received such humble prostration

as cunning ruse to gain 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, Ashur.

You call me by name.

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 Viridia

considers you fondly.

And I suspect always shall.

Come. Pompey awaits.

Uh...

night churns beyond reason.

I will make excuse

and see meeting delayed to more favorable hour.

I'm here now, upon appointed moment.

Let us to purpose and see matter concluded.

What stands so urgent that you call upon me to...

What is this fucking shit?

- Dominus, I- - 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 within same breath fuck me as you fuck the Nubian slave?

Gabinius. 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 inflamed humors.

Gabinius.

What finds you here at such hour?

And seized by tempestuous mood?

Honored guest beneath this fucking roof!

Pompey?

The man has proved himself

the villain Crassus has always assumed.

Curse upon me

for not gleaning truth with eyes my own.

He is nothing more than arrogant shit

overflowing with military laurels

in place 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 beg of you, let us give pause and consider--

There stands nothing to consider,

save 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 as enemy to me.

Equal in spiteful intent of the fucking Cilicians

he fails to bring to justice!

You wound me

as knife to chest.

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 what fucking cause?

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

An excess of wine does not negate grievous insult.

I beg you, we must not let overripe passions--

To think I ever considered

fucking union towards you with 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 medicus! - I have no fucking medicus!

Consul!

Prepare his horse! Quickly!

I will see to this. You must flee.

I- I didn't mean--

Intent tumbles to irrelevance in eye of Senate.

Come! Let us see you away.

I have underestimated you, Syrian.

You have halted union between Viridia and Pompey as commanded,

absent blood upon your hands.

I did not mean for this.

I...

I did not want this.

You.

You did this?

No.

She will know of it...

Viridia...

...will know the...

the man you truly are.

- No. - She will know!

- No. - She will...

No, no!

No.

Oh...

Oh...