Spartacus

Give report!

Spartacus' cavalry has broken our western flank.

That fucking savage.

Give signal to re-form to the south.

Kill him!

We must go!

Spartacus!

The Romans have sounded retreat.

We have won the day.

We have won nothing.

Cossinius and Furius again slip from grasp.

The same cannot be said

for many that stood with them.

The field is thick with the dead.

Deserved fate.

For all who would see us again to shackle and whip.

Another standard lost?

It is a grave wound inflicted upon the Republic, Cossinius.

A deeper one would have been suffered,

had we not withdrawn from battle.

It confounds the fucking senses.

How could a handful of errant slaves continue to vex us?

I fear their numbers have been sorely underestimated

within the Senate.

Spartacus' mongrel horde has swelled

with each passing victory,

since Glaber's defeat at Vesuvius.

They added thousands to rank

liberating the mines of Lucania.

Slaves across the Republic,

humble and grateful to their masters

for so many years, have broken to treachery

in the wake of ever expanding legend of Spartacus.

Untold numbers joined his cause

after Scrofa fell to him on the banks of the Calor.

His standards and fasces falling to the enemy,

as the man himself.

Such chaos and death at the hands

of a fucking slave.

You will discover this fucking slave

at the very gates of Rome itself,

if reinforcements are not dispatched.

Lucullus battles Mithridates near the Black Sea.

Antonius sails against the pirates plaguing Crete.

Pompey yet struggles with the renegade.

Sertorius in Espainia.

The resources of the Senate

are drained by these conflicts.

We have not the men nor the coin to procure them.

There is one among us who could fund endeavor

from his own purse.

And never feel sting of its cost.

I had hoped to avoid involving the man.

We would not be beholden to him any more than you, Metellus.

Produce alternative, and we shall seize upon it.

Very well.

I shall return to Rome and entreat Crassus

to aid in crushing Spartacus and his rebellion.

And in the act, attempt to redress grievous injury

inflicted upon the honor of the Republic.

The field has been stripped of weapons and horses.

The Romans' loss again becomes our bounty.

What of Gannicus?

I would have his report as well.

You well know the man.

He favors celebration after a victory.

Often for many days.

A thing I would gladly give blessing.

After Cossinius and Furius fall from concern.

They have proven themselves no fools.

And may yet attempt bold maneuver.

Double our sentries in surrounding hills.

I would not be caught unaware.

You give those shits credit beyond due.

Underestimating your opponent is a Roman trait, Agron.

Do not fall prey to it.

Cossinius and Furius come to the end of their days.

With each passing sun, hundreds of slaves

break bond to join our cause.

Agron is not wrong in this.

Soon we shall have the advantage of numbers.

Gauge prowess of all that have joined us,

and see them readied.

I would strike again at nearest opportunity,

and give further warning to the fools in Rome

seeking to grind us beneath heel.

Every day for months he wrestles with the man,

groans and grunts filling ear.

Your father is a dedicated student.

And I forced to stand witness to the lessons,

while more pressing matters fall to ill attention.

Apologies, Dominus.

I lose myself in the heat of contest.

Less than a scratch.

Worse deserved for not anticipating blow.

You are quick of study.

Yet you open flank to injury

when perceived advantage is pressed.

The ruin of many a man within the Senate.

Let us return to lesson after evening meal is broken.

Dominus.

The rumors prove true, Crassus.

You take instruction from a slave.

Hilarus stood a champion of the arena for many years.

I paid his lanista more coin than you'll ever see

in your life to purchase the man,

and impart what he's learned of the games.

And of the men who have drawn blood upon the sands.

Gladiators.

You strike upon very subject of my visit.

If we may break word in private?

Oh, Tiberius is well trained in the ways of men.

I would expose him to those of the Senate as well.

To the matter,

we've have suffered unexpected complications

in our conflict with the rebel Spartacus.

Cossinius and Furius have fallen?

They live, but find themselves

in need of reinforcement.

An expensive thing to acquire,

in these troubled times.

Their asses must be sore from the ramming

Spartacus has given, to come begging to me.

No one is begging.

They are asking assistance

from a loyal member of the Senate.

How much assistance?

Ten thousand men.

It would take considerable coin and effort

to raise such a force.

And in return you will be offered a command.

Under Cossinius and Furius, of course.

An offer better received from the men themselves.

They've withdrawn to a villa on the outskirts

of Nuceria, within short ride

of what remains of their legion to the north.

Spartacus continues to gather force

in the valley of Campania.

You know I would not have come

if situation did not demand of it.

No. You would not.

Their terms are agreeable.

I will dispatch message to them immediately.

Best I send my own men,

to ensure it arrives at intended destination.

Whatever your will.

To voice truth of it, I had expected you to extort

inflated title at the very least,

as Pompey did to take his charge against Sertorius.

My interest lies only in title and honor earned.

Apologies for ever suspecting less.

You would agree to serve beneath Cossinius and Furius,

absent true command?

It would appear so.

I have heard how you berate their names,

how foolish and vain you think them and Senator Metellus.

Father -- The time for words has ended.

Spartacus must fall,

and I shall set upon what path I must

to see day hastened.

For the glory of Rome.

I saw it with my own fucking eyes!

In the heat of battle, blood and brains thick to the knee.

And Gannicus, in the middle of it all!

Strips to his fucking cock,

bellowing to the Romans to kneel before him

and receive golden tribute!

In my defense, I had taken much wine that day,

not expecting Spartacus to turn and attack Scrofa.

Nor did that Roman cunt!

Spartacus stands a god! His sword cleaving the heavens

He is man...like no other.

Rome trembles at his name

and soon the mighty fucking republic

will fall to his fucking wrath - To Spartacus!

There is more wine?

My friends, are of thirst.

Your woman brings gifts!

Gifts, yes.

Not for you.

Out.

Out.

It is my fucking tent.

Out.

We shall find another.

Hopefully as well stocked.

Is it imagining, or do we rise to heights

unknown in wake of battle?

As all men do, when bathed in blood and victory.

When Rome falls, I fear we shall

split the heavens in celebration.

And fuck Jupiter

as he plummets to the earth.

Oh, you believe you fuck as a god now?

I boast but upon evidence given.

Couple proud words with wine,

and see them better received.

You afforded yourself well upon the field this day.

You stand surprised?

I have always believed in you, Nasir.