Original subtitles

— [ Grunts ]

— I begin to believe in your gods.

— I ordered them to stand ground but they fled.

— What punishment would you have me inflict?

— He took something from me.

— And I would have something in return.

— If errant word falls from mouth,

— only suffering will follow.

— Come, my love.

— [ Screams ]

— She stands a Roman.

— I stand nothing but a slave.

— [ Yells ]

— You will regain sense.

— It is you who has no sense.

— [ Yells ]

— Donar!

— Fucking traitor.

— Have you lost mind?

— Castus came to aid!

— We must see all that remain to safety of the ridge.

— Move quickly!

— And do not turn back!

— Spartacus!

— [ Yells ]

— Spartacus is no fool.

— You expect him to wait in driven snow

— for you to arrive and announce his end?

— That is exactly what I expect.

— ♪ —

Sync & corrections by honeybunny —=«O»=— www.addic7ed.com

— [ Grunting ]

— [ Gasps ]

— [ Screams ]

— Give count to those who have fallen!

— I would have number!

— The gods march us halfway to fucking Olympus,

— only to piss on us from atop a wall.

— Spartacus.

— Crassus’ army approaches from the mountain pass.

— Move all those who cannot fight to safe distance.

— See the others to weapons.

— We will show the man forged of gold

— the cost of our lives.

— [ Calling to the rebels ]

— We shall see Roman blood upon fucking snow!

— Or our own in glorious death!

— Hold!

— Calm yourselves!

— Your words move against purpose.

— We must press attack,

— before his army washes over us.

— They do not intend to advance.

— The gods hold you privy to the future now, do they?

— I am but familiar with unfortunate past.

— I served in the Roman auxiliary

— when I was yet of Thrace.

— Crassus’ men did not fall to battle formation.

— But they hold advantage of numbers.

— Why pause short of blood?

— They but await their commander.

— The legion takes position upon the ridge?

— With your Prætorium to be set at forward position,

— as commanded.

— Break urgent word when it’s prepared.

— I would lay eyes upon war’s end

— at nearest opportunity.

— Imperator.

— I have been delayed from appointed hour by pressing need.

— Apologies.

— How fares Cæsar?

— He yet licks his wounds.

— Or rather drops coin for more pleasing form

— to apply balming tongue.

— Gratitude for seeing duties to completion,

— and not falling prey to baser desires of your own.

— A man must choose proper moment to seize pleasure.

— Mine is forever entwined with your own.

— I stand moved by sentiment.

— As I do by the way you’ve afforded yourself of late.

— You honor me, Imperator.

— You honor yourself in deed and action.

— I would see such spirit greet newest command.

— Speak it, and see it done.

— I wish this chest spirited from sight.

— A simple task, yet one of grave importance.

— Where shall I place it?

— Crack seal, and make own decision.

— My armor…

— The hour rushes to Spartacus’ end.

— I would have my word and my will once more at my side

— upon final battle.

— I would have my son.

— As I would stand with you.

— Father.

— See yourself to proper dress.

— There is much of our future to turn upon discussion.

— [ Moaning ]

— [ Grunting ]

— You prove yourself yet mortal.

— A scratch, all but forgotten.

— I will see to fresh bandage.

— Wine and the warmth of your thighs

— is all comfort needed.

— Blood shall wait upon the day I draw it

— from those who have dared move against me.

— And they shall tremble with fear…

— as I now tremble before Jupiter’s cock…

— Vacate!

— Quick as you can!

— A storm is coming.

— And with it death upon frozen wind.

— Storm certain, yes.

— Yet not its hour…

— You would move to fuck,

— with Rome’s might breathing upon our necks?

— If I for afterlife,

— I take memory of your cock inside me.

— Let us turn thought from ourselves,

— and see them towards deeper needs.

— Your words sound as Spartacus.

— They are my own.

— Heed them as you will.

— You traitorous fuck!

— Donar, Nemetes and hundreds of our brothers

— lay dead in the city.

— Yet you take fucking meal!

— Gratitude.

— Your stew was turning stomach.

— Fucking Cilician shit!

— Brictius!

— Fall from fucking sight.

— If you were not Agron’s boy,

— you would stand as bloodied for shielding this little cunt.

— Place Agron from thought,

— if you believe your cock of a size.

— For such a little man you speak as if a Titan.

— Do not move me to regret coming to aid.

— Brictius is a dim brute,

— but his tongue carries knowledge.

— I stand a Cilician,

— and by tether of name a traitor.

— None should be darkened by shadow

— of another’s actions.

— A thing of no importance.

— I find myself where the fates have led.

— And call it blessing to find you there as well.

— In chains and bloodied,

— yet still attempting to flatter.

— I attempt but to live life to the fullest measure.

— And would take arms against Crassus

— to continue doing so.

— You wish to fight?

— Killing Romans was how I gained your trust,

— was it not?

— Perhaps if enough fall to my blade,

— your brothers shall one day be so moved…

— It is a decision removed from my hands.

— But know that thought is well received.

— [ Painful moaning ]

— I did not think to lay eyes upon you again.

— Nor I you.

— The gods mock us both.

— You are still of this world.

— Yet shall slip from it if you do not eat.

— See it to one more deserving.

— Do you seek to be pitied?

— I seek nothing.

— I am but ash.

— The remains of heart’s flame,

— cooled by the bringer of rain,

— who brought death to my city

— and tore me from the life I knew.

— Smothered by Crassus,

— who cast me off in chains for the pleasure of a savage.

— [ Crying ]

— You have known pain.

— And loss.

— A misfortune shared by many among us.

— How do you move past it?

— That’s a question I’ve asked many times.

— Live.

— And help provide answer.

— ♪ —

— Cæsar favored oysters in his celebration.

— I would have the finest city has to offer towards my own.

— Your father graces you again with favor.

— A thing well earned.

— I no longer stand the «pouting boy» of days past.

— The man my father has always longed for me to become.

— I but wish Sabinus were yet among us.

— Do you think he would gaze upon me with pride?

— He held you to heart, did he not?

— As you once did.

— Your path carries you from such concerns.

— Spartacus shall fall,

— and you shall rise to conquer foreign lands,

— and build upon your name.

— Far from those who once cared for you.

— I yearn to honor the name of Crassus

— with victory and laurels.

— Yet after rebellion is struck I shall remain rooted firmly

— upon current ground.

— You are not to return to Rome with us?

— I will be tasked with securing

— my father’s concerns within Sinuessa,

— until I reach proper age for title of tribune.

— A duty of great import.

— One you shall aid me in.

— I am to remain in Sinuessa?

— Within this very villa.

— My father grants you title of Vilica

— to oversee all who serve me beneath storied roof.

— And to see comforting hand

— continue to guide me in life’s journey.

— One that drew me from edge of dire precipice.

— I owe you much, Kore.

— And soon I’ll have the leisure of time to indulge repayment.

— Imperator.

— Your Prætorium stands ready upon the ridge.

— Call for my standard bearer.

— Imperator.

— Apologies, Dominus.

— I have prepared afternoon meal–

— I have appetite towards bloodier repast.

— Again, apologies.

— Yet I would also break needed words.

— Well, shatter them quickly,

— or see them to ground I once stood upon.

— Is it true I am to serve Tiberius in Sinuessa?

— By his tongue did news fall upon ear?

— The boy carries my word yet spills it absent consideration.

— I had meant to share thought with you

— in more intimate fashion.

— As I would share with you troubled mind,

— and cause of it–

— All stands upon command, Imperator.

— Time conspires against will of the heart.

— We shall break words again when battle is won,

— will see tears evaporate beneath warming sun

— of deeper intent.

— Come, let us make show of presence upon ridge.

— I’d have the rebel king know what doom falls upon him.

— ♪ —

— Crassus erects Pulvinus,

— as if we fight for his entertainment

— upon snow of fucking arena.

— Then he shall behold what miracles

— of blood a gladiator is yet capable of.

— You speak as though all stand so.

— The ways of us do.

— Passed on from our very hands.

— Too few to make difference against hordes

— we are pressed between.

— Crixus is not wrong in his belief.

— We have done the impossible,

— time upon time.

— Yet by inspired tactic, not brute force.

— What are the lay of your thoughts?

— Crassus has become overly bold by advantage he holds.

— He places his Prætorium forward of proper position,

— to better view anticipated victory.

— Perhaps we should pay visit,

— and explain fatal error.

— Does not closer position suggest

— heavier guard surrounding Prætorium?

— The wind grows restless in advance of storm.

— By night’s fall,

— it shall serve as cloak if our number

— is not swollen beyond intent.

— How many?

— Only the most skilled among us.

— We must strike as the serpent,

— fast and sure.

— If Crassus falls to our venom,

— his legions will froth and foam

— absent proper command.

— A plan well served against Cossinius and Furius.

— You would send a sleeping man to the afterlife

— when he could awaken to a nightmare.

— A sea of death as our entire army crashes upon him.

— Such a force would be discovered in advance of purpose,

— and advantage lost.

— A thing a child could see.

— You would brand me as such?

— Words foolishly chosen, brother.

— Stay by my side,

— and when Crassus is falls from this world

— we shall see his legions swiftly follow.

— [ Wind howling ]

— Lay eyes and report.

— We shall hold perimeter against escape.

— There shall be none for the mighty Crassus this night.

— Donar…

— What is carved upon his flesh?

— Death is undeceivable.

— Come on.

— [ Yelling ]

— Naevia!

— Come on.

— Fall back to the camp!

— Flee, you fucking coward!

— In formation!

— Crixus!

— Advance!

— Spartacus slips from snare?

— Along with a small clutch of his men.

— Let him feel the sting of his wounds,

— and reflect upon the mind that inflicts them.

— Raise Tiberius and Cæsar

— from peaceful slumber.

— The time for ploy and deception draws to an end.

— Cæsar at last rises from the dead.

— As you from specter of punishment.

— What draws concern in advance of morning sun?

— I depart for Melia Ridge upon dawn’s break.

— A move long in coming.

— Let us hasten arrival–

— I’d have you pause to gather remaining troops

— yet in Sinuessa.

— Fall to command beneath Tiberius

— and join me before moon greets us.

— Should not the man who took Sinuessa lead them?

— Not a boy prone to losing his sword?

— You find my gratitude short in the coming?

— The abundant coin awarded

— to keep head above rising debts?

— Tales of bravery dispatched with Metellus to ply ears of Rome?

— Celebration thrown in your honor…

— presented by the man you disrespect.

— I need no reminder of past generosity.

— I merely offer suggestion.

— And I merely give command.

— As I commanded your placement

— behind city walls to move as my instrument.

— I took this city.

— As I shall take Spartacus’ life,

— with my son close at hand.

— And where shall honored Cæsar find himself

— in the midst of such glories?

— At equal distance.

— If he but removes himself from his own path.

— He falls to command, Imperator.

— Stay true to course,

— and we shall seize the heavens as promised.

— I shall greet you upon the ridge.

— Move with haste,

— and thirst for enemy’s blood.

— Here we stand.

— Title restored to me.

— And you beneath heel.

— You mind your step, boy.

— Many a giant has tumbled to the afterlife,

— believing himself too big to fall.

— Assemble the men.

— As commanded.

— [ Yells ]

— Does no one ever sleep in this fucking house?

— Apologies.

— I was drawn by argument.

— And you lurked in the shadow to witness it?

— It is a dangerous thing to be removed from them.

— Since Tiberius is restored to imagined power.

— You rattle tongue against your master?

— I but whisper of common threat.

— And means of striking it from mutual concern.

— Gratitude for private audience.

— I would not have it known

— that we break words.

— They yet remain whole within fucking mouth.

— You have witnessed foul mood.

— Do not deepen it with mystery

— and obscured purpose.

— Much has changed of late.

— The boy that I once held to breast as a child

— has now grown far removed from the tenderness of youth.

— The thing he has become now threatens

— to turn us both from desired position.

— How deeply have you been pierced by the boy?

— It must be enough to know that I stand wounded.

— As you have been by Tiberius’ return to exalted title.

— So you have thought, do you?

— Towards dressing such grievous injuries?

— One that I should have birthed to action long ago.

— Then do so.

— And leave Cæsar far removed from plots and schemes.

— If victory over Spartacus is shared with Tiberius,

— I fear their bond will be forged in permanence.

— Cut circle with straightest line,

— and give voice to what you would have of me.

— [ Wind howling ]

— [ Whispering ]

— [ Men yelling orders ]

— It lifts heart.

— To know you are yet among us.

— Fate owed to you.

— Crixus tells of how you carried me upon back.

— It is what any of us would do.

— For another warrior.

— She yet requires rest.

— She will have it, for a time.

— Storm grows with the passing hour,

— making Roman advance unlikely.

— I would see her undisturbed by the gale of words as well.

— Is this how it is to be now?

— Are we always to find ourselves churning against one another,

— as when we were yet slaves to Batiatus?

— Forgotten days when you were yet of bolder mind.

— If we had moved with proper force against Crassus–

— What would have been result?

— Peer into future of path not taken

— and break where you believe it to lead.

— Ground not stained with Naevia’s blood.

— You would see it but joined by thousands.

— I would but fight.

— Wall and trench block forward tactic.

— Your plot against Crassus–

— you have been bested by more devious mind.

— We should place sword in every hand

— yet with strength to lift it and fall upon the Romans.

— We are bound by canyon walls,

— absent hope of flanking maneuver.

— To face superior numbers possessed

— of armor and discipline will gain us nothing

— but our own deaths.

— Then let the Romans see how we fucking embrace it.

— As we were taught to upon the sands.

— You return to spent argument.

— Few among us stand as gladiators.

— They do not pray for a glorious death.

— No. They pray to be led.

— I will not march my people to the afterlife!

— And I will not die with a Roman sword in my back!

— I will gather those of a like mind

— and press attack upon Crassus.

— You will fall to command–

— You are not a fucking God!

— And I do not heed to voice upon high!

— Crixus!

— Have you fallen from fucking reason?!

— A question better posed to your leader.

— Crixus!

— Now is not time for quarrel!

— Medicus tent has been struck by rising winds!

— The storm approaches!

— See those exposed to shelter!

— The gods threaten to wipe clean the blight of rebellion

— before we’re able to mount attack.

— Then we shall rise with morning sun,

— and finish any they have chosen to spare.

— Cæsar.

— I did not hear welcoming horns

— announcing Tiberius’ approach with balance of men.

— They stand as absent as his presence.

— You were to aid him in troops’ movement.

— Was command not clear?

— As the air between us.

— Yet pressing matter clouds thought,

— and thunder sound toward higher duty…

— You would bring her here,

— upon field of battle?

— Apologies, Dominus.

— Cæsar but bends to tearful plea.

— From mournful tongue that must break word.

— Leave us.

— Cæsar!

— Cæsar!

— Why did you not wait at northern gate as ordered?

— Apologies.

— Urgent task drew me from the pleasure of your company.

— My father will not stand pleased by word of insubordination.

— I would pause before seeking audience.

— The Imperator is otherwise taken…

— by presence of beloved slave.

— Kore?

— You disobey command to bring a fucking woman to encampment?

— She was desperate to break word with your father.

— I could not find heart

— to deny her opportunity to gain his ear.

— What concerns so move her?

— Ah, that’s the mystery, is it not?

— Yet calm rattled nerve.

— I’m certain father will share with trusted son

— all she reveals.

— Is my will to be defied at every turn?

— Did I not tell you that wanted moment

— would find you at battle’s end?

— I know my presence stands in violation of rule,

— yet I could not wait upon the hour to see you.

— Drink, see yourself warmed.

— Gratitude.

— Storm’s fury stays hand in returning you to Sinuessa.

— At first sign of its passing,

— Cæsar himself shall see you again to safety

— of city walls.

— Where I am to remain when you return to Rome,

— forever banished from your arms.

— Banished?

— You mistake intent.

— I claimed Sinuessa for you.

— So that we may have a place to ourselves

— when I am to visit,

— frequently, far from jealous eyes and wagging tongues.

— It is not punishment, but gift.

— You shall rise as my name does,

— as Vilica of the House of Crassus

— in Sinuessa.

— Beneath Tiberius.

— He will be beside you,

— receiving benefit of your company and wisdom.

— As I so often have.

— I know how much he cares for you.

— And you for him.

— You’ve helped move him from the boy he was

— to the man he is.

— I can think of no one more suited to further guide him.

— I fear the prospect of blame,

— should you find him less than expected.

— Strike worry.

— It is a thing beyond imagining.

— He has proved bitter disappointment in the past,

— has he not?

— It is true that Tiberius fell to grievous error.

— And I to wrath threatening to shake the heavens.

— Yet we now stand as one,

— and I know in deepest heart

— there is no misstep that would see father

— withhold forgiveness from treasured son.

— I’d hoped soothing words to stem tide of overflowing tears.

— Pay them no mind.

— They are but lingering shadows of a foolish girl.

— As long as the woman stands clear to heart’s desire.

— Yes, Marcus.

— Everything is very clear to me now.

— If we take in any more our difficulty

— may be lack of air to breathe, not cold or snow.

— I prefer the pressing of rancid flesh

— to having cock become as ice.

— Am I never to be free of this fucking shit?

— Add to storm’s bluster and see tent blown

— from strained mooring.

— Castus.

— Spartacus commands me here.

— Choice is removed from hand.

— Yet not from mine.

— You would see me free?

— Action born of Nasir’s plea.

— Know that absent them

— my blade would be slick with Cilician blood.

— Gratitude.

— Do not fucking cast that look.

— Where is Gannicus?

— He’s not with you?

— No.

— Gannicus!

— Gannicus!

— With this blood… we humbly…

— entreat…

— Why do you not go with the others?

— I must give offering…

— The gods shall reveal path…

— They reveal only your death,

— if you remain on bended knee!

— Seek shelter!

— Or greet your gods upon the shores of the afterlife!

— I could not find him.

— I go.

— You would be lost as well.

— Gannicus will not fall to wind and ice.

— Wine forever in his blood will keep him warm.

— I have never favored the cold.

— Share blanket, and see yourself warmed.

— I have no need for it.

— Your teeth threaten to shake from head.

— As do mine.

— Your wound gives pain?

— It reminds that I yet live.

— And choose to continue to do so.

— [ Wind howling ]

— We again find ourself in pressing space.

— Nursing wounds and praying the afterlife

— does not take us.

— You pray now, do you?

— Upon many things.

— Yet I am not dim of mind to kneel in storm,

— raise voice to the heavens.

— Nor spill my own blood as offering.

— It stood as sacrifice.

— For Spartacus.

— You believe him a God now?

— It was made on his behalf.

— To plead for his cause…

— and all those devoted to it.

— I have doubted your belief in days past.

— Found myself a fool for it–

— [ rumbling ]

— You are safe…

— You are safe…

— I have warned you.

— To stay far from men of my kind.

— You ask the impossible.

— How many?

— Nearly a thousand lost to the storm.

— A thousand.

— Spartacus…

— I had feared you among the dead.

— The gods took pity,

— and provided us with needed shelter.

— Not all so blessed.

— No. They were not.

— We sought aid from the heavens.

— To see us beyond darkness of trench and wall.

— And here stands reply.

— Yet in their cruelty,

— perhaps the gods light way for those yet living.

— You turned from fucking reason.

— I have embraced it.

— We shall forge trench and press attack,

— as you so championed.

— When we held yet another thousand men,

— now forever lost to us.

— And what of the army that awaits beyond Crassus’ wall?

— How will we match their number?

— Perhaps there stands no need.

— You speak in fucking riddles, obscuring truth.

— As Crassus obscures all he has done,

— shrouding his moves in deception.

— Placing Cæsar among us.

— Turning Heracleo to his cause.

— Drawing us into trap within his tent.

— Nothing is ever as it appears.

— Then break fucking thoughts, or fall from presence.

— His trench stands barrier enough to halt escape.

— Why see it coupled with impossible fortification?

— To keep our eyes from what lies beyond it.

— Or what does not.

— A few man placed upon wall

— would give illusion of thousands beyond it.

— A deception worthy of the man himself.

— And if you are wrong?

— Then we shall embrace a glorious death.

— Absent Roman swords in our backs.

— ♪ —

— Your thoughts were true.

— There stand only but a few hundred.

— Let us warm the night with their blood.

— Lugo! Brictius!

— Take men and see breach made in the wall!

— Imperator!

— Imperator!

— The rebels have breached the wall!

— Command the legion to fall to formation!

— Quickly!

— Was my slave escorted back to Sinuessa?

— None left your tent, Imperator.

— ♪ —

— Move quickly, and follow the others!

— Up here!

— Check everywhere!

— She has moved to join rebellion?

— An opportunity denied her,

— had she not been brought to the ridge.

— I thought her to have just cause–

— Give report.

— There stands no sentry upon the wall.

— Nor sight of Spartacus and his army.

— It holds no sense.

— How could he have spanned trench?

— The fucking savage.

— He fills trench with his own dead.

— He but seizes means left to him.

— They can not have traveled far a distance.

— Give order to advance the legion.

— I would reclaim what is mine–

— Protect the Imperator!

— We must fall back!

— Break formation!

— The mighty Crassus shows fucking ass as he flees from us!

— [ Yelling ]

— He will return, with rams and ballistæ.

— And find his monument of illusion taken to flame,

— lending opportunity to place distance between us.

— Let us see ourselves far from here.

— And honor the fallen with future victories…

— and the blood of Marcus Crassus.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny —=«O»=— www.addic7ed.com

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