Spartacus: Gods of the Arena

There is but one path... we kill them all.

I am your dominus!

I will have your fucking hearts!

Quintus.

Lucretia.

What would you do to hold your wife again,

to feel the warmth of her skin,

the taste of her lips?

How many men would you kill?

I left the deed in Barca's hands.

Now you're free.

We are betrayed by the Beast of fucking Carthage.

You are beneath me.

He is a magistrate.

One can never know who is plotting violence, can one?

Or when they may commit the act.

Your wife... she moves ever closer even as we speak.

My word is kept. They're reunited.

You will become the greatest Lanista in the Republic.

Under such a title we will climb beyond our station,

beyond Capua,

perhaps to the very steps of the Senate itself.

The fights are particularly entertaining today.

You'd enjoy them more viewed from the pulvenus.

Fucking shit-eater.

Let Vettius preen like a woman.

You'll school him in the ways of men when Gannicus takes to the sands.

Absent Tullius and the magistrate to bear witness,

what's the fucking purpose?

One man in today's games, one only,

and the seats needing to impress stand empty

as Vettius' fucking head.

Get up!

Get up!

Solonius, what news?

Tullius and the magistrate were delayed with pressing business,

but arrive shortly,

as long as this current match continues.

No. Get up!

Capua!

Get up, get up, you fuck.

Vettius begins the match without proper introduction.

- Proper? - Capua!

Vettius and the word are of distant relations.

L, for one, am grateful to be spared his oratory.

The man's voice causes skull to ache.

Arghh!

Gannicus takes position.

Now there's a fucking gladiator!

Tear his fucking face off!

Fucking kill him!

Begin.

Is your man ever of a serious note?

He can strip naked and fight with his cock, as long as he wins.

Gannicus, I love you!

What's he doing, Quintus?

Fucking kill him!

No. Wait for the magistrate.

Kill kill kill!

Gannicus, do not kill him!

Do not kill him yet!

Oh, now they arrive.

A victory regardless.

Won in dewy morn.

None of the important matches happen

till after the midday sun has passed.

Consider yourself fortunate to have a man in the games at all.

Good Solonius stands with empty hands.

Come then, let us see them filled with drink.

Tell Doctore to see Gannicus back to the Ludus

and have him properly rewarded for his showing.

Can we not stay for the rest of the games?

Vettius' men command the prominent matches.

He has more than enough eyes to watch him stroke his cock.

I would not add ours to the sight.

Now you want me, Capua.

Doctore.

Dominus orders Gannicus returned to the Ludus,

and seen to reward.

Perhaps one day the pretty little bitch

will fight later in the afternoon,

with the rest of the men.

You and your tiny cock best pray that day never come.

Save blood for the fucking sands, Gannicus.

What seized fucking brain,

releasing your swords in the arena?

I could have killed the man absent an arm and both fucking legs.

Hubris... a fine quality

often possessed by cunts who perish from it.

Did you catch the manner of his eye

as he gazed down from the pulvenus?

Fucking Vettius...

barely free of his mother's tit,

yet he carries himself above Lanistas of more deserving years.

Youth often imagines itself swollen beyond worth.

Time will cure him of the condition,

as it does all foolish young men.

Time is what he holds in abundance.

The new arena will be finished in but a handful of months.

If we are excluded from the opening games...

Vettius is but shit from a shit town.

How can Tullius and the magistrate

favor a boy from Nola over one of Capua's own sons?

Well, how do they do it now?

We must prove ourselves in the more important bouts

in the old arena and secure position.

To fight later in the day, we must first distinguish ourselves

against Vettius' men. Yet Vettius' men only fight...

Later in the day.

A vexing conundrum.

Lucretia?

Gaia. Gaia.

Will you come to Capua without telling me?

I have only this moment returned,

with intentions of seeking you out.

Do you travel with your husband?

He takes to road no more,

not in this life at least.

Apologies.

None required. It was his time.

Are you occupied?

I'm fit to bursting with stories of my adventures.

Quintus?

What man dares stand between women and gossip?

You must tell me everything. Secret no detail.

Removed from the ears of men, my lips willingly part.

Gaia returns unencumbered

and in enticing form.

Huh, that woman is a force of fucking nature,

one that has blown many an unsuspecting man to his ruin.

You require someone more refined

to grace arm as our fortunes rise.

Have eyes ever beheld such a marvel?

A sight to put the Circus Maximus in Rome to bitter shame.

We will be the ones shamed

if grand ceremony passes absent our gladiators.

We must force advantage before opportunity slips from grasp.

No, we must be patient.

Your father would venture forth with respect and caution.

Then a blessing he is not present.

Perhaps we should send word to him in Sicilia, petition advice?

I can already divine the content of his reply,

which is why he never rose above his humble station.

Fuck patience.

Look to Tullius for the way.

He seizes opportunity by the balls

while lesser men are left holding cock.

A simple merchant,

yet he gives honored counsel to the magistrate

and all the rest of the noble shit-eaters of Capua.

Truth told, yet at excessive volume.

I would shout his praise to the fucking heavens.

His hands shaped events

resulting in the erection of the new arena.

He supplies slaves

from the farthest reaches of the Republic to speed its completion.

Through the ambitions of Tullius,

Capua is elevated...

a lesson to be studied and reproduced in kind.

Is that all? A simple task then, Batiatus.

- Dominus. - Between us,

we have the greatest gladiators in Capua...

Barca, Acadeus, Gannicus...

men forged into something beyond their worth,

beyond anything that smug little piss Vettius

could ever hope to offer.

Perhaps Tullius should not have strayed

so far abroad in acquiring his slaves.

What's he doing?

Pick him up.

Crixus, you know the rules...

no one breaks the line.

Hold.

Is this one of good Tullius's slaves?

It is.

- I would make purchase. - Purchase?

- What's the man's worth? - He is not for sale.

50 denarii.

- What are you doing? - Seizing balls.

The man is barely worth 10.

Why would you pay such a sum for a shit Gaul?

Shit?

Do you not see the promise in his eyes,

the spark smoldering in his breast?

I would give it tender, to ignite in the arena.

50.

Add another five to weight your own purse.

Lend me 20 denarii.

You pay too much for the man.

The man is nothing.

I pay to gain favor with Tullius.

A waste of coin.

The shit fuck will never be a gladiator.

Even the lowest man can rise beyond the heavens,

if tempted with the proper reward.

He was well satisfied?

Very well.

Dominus will be pleased.

Not as much as I am.

When are you not so, especially with yourself?