01x02 - Forsaken

[bunniefuu]

- [Lucretia] Wake.
- [gasps]

[blood splatters]

[Ashur] You stand but first
crude brick, laying foundation

to the rise of the house of Ashur.

All those before me shall fall.

Enter the brothers Ferox!

- Aargh!
- [all grunt]

That toad is pet to
Marcus f*cking Crassus.

Apologies, Gabinius. We did not think.

I shall redouble the effort to
secure undiscovered spectacle

and see rematch upon a day.

[grunting]

[Ashur] Let us gaze upon glorious future.

Aargh! Pledge oath, call me
Dominus and fight in the arena.

Earn your freedom upon the sands.

- [Ashur] Achillia.
- Dominus.

[blades ring, blood splatters]

[rapid percussive music, singing echoes]

[dark, eerie music]

[men grunt]

Ay!

Tarchon! You lower
shield before you strike.

See it raised-
or your brains upon the sands.

Yes, Doctore.

[men grunt]

You fight with vigor.

Well, this house now
stands absent champion-

a position I would claim my own.

[laughs] Well, to become champion,

you must first defeat vaunted father.

[men grunt]

[men grunt]

A venture yet beyond grasp.

- For now, you withered corpse.
- [chuckles]

[men grunt]

[men grunt]

You mad f*ck!

- You lower your guard.
- Towards good f*cking reason.

[men grunt]

[intense music]

♪

[door creaks]

We have felt the sting

of loss.

Witnessed honored champion

fall upon the sands of the arena

to the ill-thriven jackals of Proculus.

Yet, as rising sun breaks dawn,

so too shall the House of Ashur

dispel darkest night of indignity.

We shall no longer be bound
by the shackles of history

or f*cking tradition!

We set foot upon uncharted course

to satisfy the crowd's desire

with more exotic...

offerings.

But how shall rising thirst be quenched?

There stands but one capable of satiating

such ravenous mob!

Behold,

Achillia.

The Goddess of Death.

[men grumble]

Silence f*cking tongue,
and attend your Dominus!

Return to training, you simple f*ck.

Doctore,

see Achillia to instruction.

Dacus, sword and shield,
towards style of murmillo!

Yes, Doctore!

The woman bears resemblance to my mother-

a spiteful f*cking wh*re.

That explains much, you witless sh*t.

- A f*cking woman, father.
- Turn thoughts.

And raise guard!

Erato!

Pair with Achillia.

I would see c*ck tangle
with more worthy adversary.

- [whip cracks]
- [Erato grunts]

Work the f*cking log!

[grunts]

- Ay!
- Tarchon!

Pair with Achillia.

Yes, Doctore.

Shall I treat her as opponent

or something of delicate persuasion?

[laughter]

A question I was of mind
to pose towards you.

See idle words give
way to clash of swords.

[tense music]

Begin!

[both grunt]

She is of a form, is she not?

- Yes, Dominus.
- Mm-hm.

[both grunt]

[tense music]

[both grunt]

[both grunt]

[both grunt]

[thud]

[grunting continues]

- [grunts]
- Aargh!

You have fought before,
yet not against such as I.

[laughter]

f*cking shield weights intent.

You will address me as Doctore.

Retrieve the shield.

It is not to my benefit, Doctore.

[echoes] You will do as commanded!

[whip crack echoes]

[Ashur] Achillia,

stand ground.

And receive correction.

Dominus.

[intense music]

[music builds]

The moment has f*cking passed.

Resume training.

[tense music]

[music continues]

Begin!

Aargh!

She does not grant respect
title of Doctore demands.

Respect is not granted; it is taken.

Instruct Achillia in our ways

and see bared teeth give
way to averted gaze.

A lesson not easily grasped by rabid dog.

Then respond with lash
until tongue laps at heel.

And what if beast cannot be tamed?

Spartacus once stood as wild.

Yet by will and teachings of Oenomaus,

he was domesticated

and became champion of f*cking Capua-

a result I would see mirrored.

She reflects but promise
of disappointment.

- Do you stand f*cking Dominus?
- I do not.

Yet you bleat as if exalted
title cloaks you in such regard.

I account what eyes behold
through lens of experience.

She is but f*cking clay
for your hands to mold.

Forge her in the fires of this ludus,

hardening her to swift purpose.

Swift? Achillia has but
only commenced training.

A thing of minor consequence.

I would see her ready for the
games of the Ludi Apollinares.

- You have secured position?
- I maneuver towards such.

[chuckles] So we but
clutch at fanciful dream.

As certain as waking
upon each f*cking day,

I shall see it done and
claim desired contest against

the Brothers Ferox once more.

You wager all that crowd
will not turn upon us.

- For presenting novelty?
- For breaking tradition,

when f*cking woman takes to the sands.

Tradition is but a word revered by those

who pursue mediocrity.

The House of Ashur
will carve its own path

and f*ck into oblivion
all who stands in its way.

Dominus, message has arrived from Rome.

Ah! At last.

Mighty Crassus deigns
to respond. [laughs]

Apologies. It is not from Crassus.

Who, then?

Julius f*cking Caesar.

A man of no worth beyond name
granted by slipping

from mother's c**t.

He stands a quaestor, does he
not? A position of some note.

f*ck position.

Caesar flings his own sh*t and
declares it manna from heaven.

[document slams shut]

[Korris] He breaks words
of some distress?

Some.

He sends us and our men upon Appian Way,

towards unsavory task.

Do you not stand a free man, as Caesar?

And as such, not bound by request?

I stand free in the eye of
the republic, yet not in coin.

Crassus is honored patron
and Caesar his f*cking will.

We must part lips and
swallow anointed c*ck.

[document slams on ground]

[crows caw]

[Hedylus] Move cart further
from f*cking nose.

[men coughing]

[crow caws]

[men grunt]

It is a heavy sight...

to witness so many hearts no
longer beating beneath chest.

[Ashur] The rebel army that
shook the mighty republic

reduced to rotten flesh
beneath vengeful sun.

[grunts] sh*t c*ck!

We stand gladiators,
not common f*cking sl*ves.

You stand as I f*cking command!

[laughter]

- [flies buzz]
- [Creticus vomiting]

Creticus has mind equal to
dazed child, yet breaks truth.

[Korris] A gladiator's place
is upon the sands of the arena-

it is the duty of a quaestor
to tend to the Appian Way.

Caesar's tongue yet find
purchase in Crassus' a*s.

We must endure one to
gain benefit of more-

Stop!

That mark-

this man stood Champion
of the House of Batiatus.

Gannicus.

[crowd chanting] Gannicus!
Gannicus! Gannicus!

[Korris] I had occasion to cross
paths with him once,

after he claimed freedom in the arena,

before he fell among Spartacus
and his rebels.

A drunken, disagreeable fellow,

much to my liking.

He embraced his fate, as all men must.

His death a kindness

to one forever haunted
by past transgressions.

- See him to f*cking wagon.
- Dominus.

[poignant music]

This man stood a god of the arena,

his skill rivalled only by
the Bringer of Rain himself.

Two legends, birthed from our ludus.

Yet we now stand absent even
lowly position in the games.

How far this f*cking house has fallen.

[quietly] Come, come.

[crow caws]

[flies buzz]

[dramatic music]

[Hilara] You desecrate these walls?

- I but enhance them.
- Mm.

This beast,

he is of your homeland?

Apedemak,

god of w*r and conquest.

You pray to him?

- He would not listen.
- Then why work his image?

- As a reminder.
- Towards?

What was lost.

Pause labor and take water.

[rock scrapes]

[gulps]

- Gratitude.
- None required.

[Hilara] Your scars-

how did you come by them?

A tale not for one so soft in form.

In battle?

When captured by the Romans?

I did not fall to those f*cking shits.

Marked by previous Dominus, then?

Towards instruction of manners?

I have never stood a sl*ve.

Yet here in this house,
that is all you stand.

Lay hands upon Dominus again...

and I shall see you parted
from f*cking life.

Little mouse squeaks,
and I'm to shudder in fear?

Make attempt and see talon
part head from body.

A certain end, if I were
to move against you openly.

Yet there are many ways a clever mouse

may see vicious hawk to grass.

- You taint f*cking water?
- [chuckles]

I have not.

Yet at any moment, I could snatch breath,

absent suspicion.

I shall leave you to your god,
who ignores your prayers.

[footsteps retreat]

[men shouting]

Seize f*cking mind!

- Doctore!
- Salvius!

[shouting continues]

Well deserved, you fu-!

- Enough!
- f*ck!

You fall to f*cking quarrel!

Blood boiling in ear,

preventing voice of your Dominus
to pierce thick f*cking skull!

Look upon your brothers.

They too defy their master

and now rot upon f*cking cross.

[crow caws]

Continue to inflame...

and see yourself nailed among them.

[footsteps retreat]

You lose control.

The sun overheats passions,

already roiled by Achillia's presence.

[whispers] f*ck Jupiter's face.

It lifts heart, to witness your
men at last put to proper use.

I but serve the republic on this day,

at request of revered Caesar.

Yet upon another,

I would present latest
acquisition in the arena

and have contest revisited
towards diminutive ab*rtion.

[laughs] At least we knew
our mother, you f*cking c**t!

[laughter]

[chuckles]

Descend from lofty perch and
broach subject of lineage again.

Hold! We are for Pompeii,
where we battle in the arena.

Let us leave the
House of Ashur to its labors-

in the dirt.

Form!

Is it fear

that stays hand from rematch
upon next games in Capua?

I welcome such entertainment.

- Mm.
- Yet station to decide

who shall fight and who shall
wallow in their own sh*t

falls not to me but to good Gabinius.

Gabinius?

He hosts the game of
the Ludi Apollinares?

We are so honored.

Perhaps you may entreat
him towards your cause.

Or his beloved wife.

♪ Blood rains down from an angry sky! ♪

[all] ♪ My c*ck rages on!
My c*ck rages on! ♪

♪ Till death is found,
my sword swinging hot! ♪

The gods you do not believe
in sh*t upon us once more.

They but present new obstacle.

Cossutia orchestrated humiliation

and the fall of our champion, Logas.

She will poison husband
towards granting position.

- Uvidus may yet hold sway.
- The aedile?

The man fears Crassus and may
provide necessary leverage.

Would not equal trepidation
fall towards Pompey,

whose favor Gabinius holds?

Set purpose towards Achillia's training.

And leave machinations
towards greater f*cking minds.

[grunts]

[grunts]

[all grunt]

Good.

You yet reek of rotting
flesh from Appian Way.

I but smell as a man.

A man of piss and sh*t.

Doctore!

Perhaps the goddess of death
should fall to proper contest.

She would welcome such a diversion.

A sentiment to be regretted.
Take position.

[chuckles]

[Creticus] Dacus! Spear!

[fighters grunting]

I shall f*ck salted words from mouth.

Do you borrow c*ck to do so?

[laughing]

Tarchon...

fall beside Creticus.

I'm to face two opponents?

[Korris] Should the gods favor
you towards the arena,

you shall face three-

the Brothers Ferox.

Vicious half-men, pulled
from the a*s of a rival lanista.

[scoffs] Half-men?

I could piss and they'd thank
the gods for rain.

She does not need sword
and shield, Doctore;

she'll cut them down with f*cking tongue.

Our honor stands no f*cking jest!

Nor do the Brothers Ferox.

Nature twisted them into knotted lump.

And in their anger and pain,

they torment death with aggrieved hands.

Misjudge them, and see your life forfeit.

Take position.

Begin!

[rythmic drumming]

[growls]

[both grunt]

Focus on the one opponent and
invite f*cking from the other.

[chuckles]

f*cking shield again prevents movement.

You face men, shield stands all
between you and the afterlife.

[Korris] Again.

[percussive music]

Tarchon!

Good!

[Korris] Rid yourself of one adversary

so you may advance upon
other absent distraction.

[grunting]

You have not earned position
in this f*cking house.

[echoes] Aargh!

[grunts]

[Achillia breathing heavily]

Disappointing.

Eat! We resume training
after heat of midday sun.

[gasps, pants]

She is not absent skill.

She is absent honor,
striking Creticus upon manhood.

An unfortunate blow,
yet the fault is yours.

Mine?

Desire towards singular victory
left valued friend exposed.

Had this been the arena,
both of you would have fallen.

[grunting]

[indistinct conversations]

[laughter]

[laughter continues]

- [Salvius] That's f*cking sh*t.
- [grunts]

[indistinct conversations]

Regain seat.

I did not spring from your c*ck,
nor am I bound by f*cking voice.

The man presents sharpened point.

Your sword will not
find purchase once more.

Why, do you never intend to fight again?

[bowl clatters]

Dogs eat from f*cking ground.

[laughter, cheering]

Creticus!

You do not fight unless it
is upon my f*cking command.

Apologies, Doctore.

I but remind the woman of her place.

[Korris] Return to training.

All of you!

[intense music]

Her presence incites
disobedience and distraction.

They cannot even break food
without falling to quarrel.

You pace like caged beast,

rending tranquil mood.

Apologies for disturbing f*cking bath.

Perhaps inflamed passion would
be cooled by soothing waters.

I prefer to bathe in solitude.

Yet you do not f*cking stand so.

Wet c*ck and douse inferno

with wine.

Fill cup to overflowing.

Does sun break through f*cking cloud?

It makes attempt.

Achillia affords rarest opportunity.

A sight never before
witnessed in the arena.

For good reason.

She does not belong
upon such sacred ground.

Accusation hurled at retiarius
when first introduced.

Net and trident, how they laughed.

Yet now, not a game passes
absent their presence.

Tradition is but a novel rite,
aged to maturity.

A thing I would see Achillia become.

She cannot triumph against
the Brothers Ferox.

No, she cannot...

yet.

You hold too much faith
in my instruction.

- I hold what is necessary.
- And what of the men?

They must embrace the future
or fall to memory.

They will never welcome
a woman as one of their own.

They need not to welcome her,
but they must f*cking accept.

Right.

It is a bitter herb
you entreat them swallow.

Then let us see it honeyed
with wine and wh*res,

to balm injured f*cking pride.

Such a gesture would aid in
calming gathering tempest.

With promise of more,
towards falling to reason.

Apologies, Dominus. Senator
Gabinius has sent messenger.

What word did he carry?

He insists message be delivered
only to your hands.

- Materialize the f*cking man.
- Yes, Dominus.

The aedile champions
our cause to Gabinius?

I have yet opportunity to broach subject.

[suspenseful music]

- You stand Gabinius' man?
- Such is my charge.

Hand over, then.

[music continues]

Um, inform honored senator
what he requests is agreeable.

[sighs]

[laughs]

[squeals]

Gabinius invites me to
break meal at his villa!

To what purpose?

Unknown, yet I shall turn
it to f*cking advantage.

Dominus has parted from sense.

As Achillia parted you from yours.

- [laughter]
- It was but luck.

And trust f*cking Nubian
held thread of honor.

You place blame where it does not sleep.

You place fault in my efforts?

No.

Upon mine. I was absent thought
towards all but victory,

leaving you exposed.

I do not need you to come to
aid, you f*cking sh*t.

- Your c*ck says otherwise.
- [laughter]

When paired in the arena,
you must fight as one.

Or fall divided.

And when were you last
upon the sands, old man?

A lifetime ago, yet I...

lived.

Which is a victory I fear
you may tumble well short of.

A thing of no pressing concern.

We are the House of Piss and sh*t,

denied opportunity of glorious death.

Yours not so much,

assuming opponent stood
greater than small child.

[laughter]

Fill air with f*cking laughter,

as Capua does upon thought
of this f*cking house.

[Korris] It is what we make it.

See weighted spirits lifted.

Your Dominus presents
gift of wine and wh*res.

[men cheer]

Well, perhaps the gods yet
favor this f*cking House!

Now remove yourselves

so Achillia may bathe
absent lingering gaze.

wh*res!

Wine and wh*res!

[indistinct conversations]

He preens as if I've never
witnessed c*ck bared and wet.

Attend yourself and retire
to cell for the night.

Am I not to enjoy the pleasures
of wine and wh*res?

Such rewards are reserved
for those who bear the mark

of the brotherhood.

An honor you have yet to earn.

[footsteps retreat]

- Perhaps this one.
- You possess discerning eye.

As I wish yours to such this night.

I am to Gabinius' villa,
not the arena. [chuckles]

Does Cossutia yet stand his wife?

As Cerberus guarding
gate of the underworld,

frothing and snapping.

The target of my concern.

She holds no sway,
absent command of husband.

And if she has moved him
to her cause against you?

Cheeks spread for deeper ramming.

- Then why accept invitation?
- I hold no f*cking choice!

[sighs]

Calm troubled thoughts and realize,

all men of power and position
underestimate Ashur at own...

f*cking peril.

Prepare yourself for my return.

You as well.

[footsteps retreat]

You worry over him beyond reason.

He is our Dominus.

Our fates tethered to his.

Yet who worries over you?

Hmm?

Turn mind to task and
see linens freshened,

in anticipation of his triumphant return.

[exotic music]

Senator Gabinius shall join presently.

[crickets chirp]

[Gabinius] Ah! Here is our man.

Gratitude for accepting invitation

upon briefest of notice.

I am swelled by august request.

You are familiar with cherished wife?

We are so acquainted.

In passing, in the streets, if I recall.

Apologies for our delay.

This business with the Cilician pirates

vexes all affected
by their savage attacks.

Locusts plaguing our beloved republic.

I pray harsh retribution awaits.

We are of singular mind.

I draft motion in the Senate...

to see menace quelled by
able hand of trusted Pompey.

Pompey?

He takes leave from Rome with his army?

A small portion, adequate to task.

The remainder counterbalanced

towards fighting men loyal to Crassus.

May the gods usher Pompey to victory,

as Scipio Africanus against
Hannibal at the gates.

[chuckles] You are schooled
in our histories?

I am but babe,
crawling through dewy morn.

Then let us see you rise
upon legs of knowledge,

and stride upright as
all men in midday of life.

Hmm. Some yet stumble upon attempt,

skull bashed upon unforgiving ground.

I shall strive to remain surefooted.

As most reliable goat.

[Gabinius] Let us not veer
towards pointed meaning.

I would have all slights,
genuine or fanciful,

fall to past remembrance.

- Memory has faded to obscurity.
- Never to return.

[Viridia] Apologies.

Voices stirred interest.

Viridia. It swells heart
to see you stir from chambers.

Effort rarely taken these days.

Perhaps you might return after
our esteemed guest has departed.

Is this him?

The Syrian?

You are not properly dressed to receive-

Are these the hands?

The ones that saw
Spartacus to deserved end?

They, uh...

T-they but aided

in the effort.

Gratitude.

Rome is forever in your debt.

- As am I.
- Hour grows late.

Retire to bath with loving
mother so I may break words

with honored guest absent distraction.

Come. Let us leave
the men to their folly.

Forgive my daughter.
She holds not herself.

What affliction troubles her?

[sighs] The most grievous,
a wounded heart.

Her husband, much beloved,

fell to Spartacus and his
rebels at Sinuessa en Valle,

where he broached business
with Laurus, the trader.

Such loss sees the strongest of
us absent mind when in its grip.

Well formed.

Yet,

let us turn from shadowed past

in favor of more promising days.

Yes.

[percussive music]

[groaning, panting]

[grunting]

You stand well satisfied, old friend?

Oh, I stand a f*cking god.

Do not f*cking stop.

[gasping, groaning]

Throw dice, Salvius!

[cheering]

Bow to the champion of f*cking dice!

Yet not a champion of f*cking!

[men laugh]

[laughter]

Then I shall make you see the prince.

[both pant]

You deprive release of hardened c*ck!

Shall deprive you of
f*cking teeth as well.

- Tarchon.
- The girl is mine.

See humble offering inserted elsewhere.

[laughs]

I favor more heft to a*s anyway.

[groaning]

Oh, Hedylus completes chore.
Well, I shall swim upstream.

[grunting]

[grunting]

You would pull me from services
purchased by your Dominus?

I would wrest you from Mars himself.

You warm heart, Elata.
As sun above the earth below.

[chuckles]

You flatter, as all men stiff of c*ck.

I know that you're forced to lie
with men outside these walls.

Yet within them, I would have no
other hands upon you but mine.

Then lay them upon me.

[exotic music]

[music continues]

[music builds]

[music continues]

♪

[pants]

[both pant]

[giggles]

[grunts]

You were commanded
to remain in your cell.

Slumber eludes with all the f*cking noise

and noise of f*cking.

[grunts]

- What do you see?
- [grunts]

I do not grasp meaning.

When you strike, what do you see?

A wooden f*cking man.

You unleash fury beyond simple form.

What do you see, in mind's eye?

Those who hold me unworthy.

Within this ludus

or upon the path
that led you to such fate?

[crickets chirp]

[men yelling in distance]

You do not partake in the
pleasure of wh*res denied me?

My taste is of a more discerning nature.

One not sated by men who accept coin,

in exchange for loving embrace.

Hmm. Would that I were
so blessed of choice.

Hmm.

Drink

and dull pain of coming days.

[[Yelling]

You lower yourself, speaking
to the Syrian as you did.

I but expressed gratitude, keenly felt.

You made him feel as equal,
deserving of such praise.

Does he not, for aiding
in the fall of Spartacus?

He but aided himself and desire
to climb above his station.

Should not all men
seek to be so elevated?

Yes, if they are of proper breeding.

You froth as if personally aggrieved.

The man himself is of slightest note.

It is what he represents-

those who would pollute pure
waters of the republic,

fancying themselves upon level
with storied name and position.

He must be made example,
to be taken as warning

to all those who would
mistake themselves so.

Father appears in disagreement.

Husband will often stray from
reason, if not closely attended.

Would that I yet had one
to give such counsel.

Accept mine...

in his place.

Do not forfeit precious
youth to grieving.

- Wound is yet fresh.
- And...

will never heal...

unless proper balm is applied.

Life does not end when
a husband falls from this world.

Nor heart remained sundered,

when cradled in hands of loving mother.

[Gabinius] Tell me, Syrian,

were you and your family
brought to Rome as sl*ves?

I alone. Mother and
sister fell to disease,

long before I fled Tigranes'
army and found myself, uh...

guest of the republic.

[chuckles] And your father?

I hold no memory of him.

Absence of such robs
a boy of proper direction.

You must truly hold favor of your gods,

to find yourself elevated from
sl*ve to current position

of Dominus of own f*cking house.

[chuckles] I am indeed blessed,

yet by labor of own hands

and accomplishments
beholden only to them.

You hold no belief in the
divinity guiding mortal man?

My Dominus was known
for oft-repeated refrain,

one which I yet admire-

"f*ck the gods."

[chuckles]

And to what end did such sentiment lead?

Most unfortunate one.

Well, one man's misfortune often
falls to another's opportunity.

How unseemly a role did your hands play

in manufacturing such?

I have done...

questionable things...

to arrive where I now sit.

Who of worth can claim otherwise?

And now?

Upon this day?

- I walk a different path.
- Oh.

So the tiger has altered stripes?

I am not the man I once was.

Nor the man you yet desire to be.

You are but faint specter,

caught between two worlds
you do not belong in.

It is a heavy thing, is it not,
to be burdened with dreams

made sudden reality?

I am but a humble servant
of the republic.

[laughs] Why would you swear
allegiance to a republic

that despises you?

Why lavish tongue upon those who
yet hold you in naked contempt?

You shall never stand equal
in their eyes,

forever condemned to be
but rough-hewn tool to be used

till blade is dulled
by unkind years, then...

[sighs]

cast aside.

What worth is a knife...

if it lies absent use?

So, mighty Crassus continues
to sharpen intent, then?

All the way from where
he sits, with his army,

outside the gates of Rome?

We are as one, via messenger
upon regular basis.

Only a fool relies upon
the benevolence of the rich.

Their whims counsel but
their own reflection.

Coin afforded by Crassus admittedly thins

with passing of days, yet debt mounts-

water, grain, equipment.
My stock drains fortune.

And with it, hope of grander aspiration

towards the games in the arena.
A subject I would broach-

You refer to your gladiators as stock?

Do they not carry title of men?

They are but sl*ves.

As you once stood.

A distant memory.

Yet forgotten by none.

Let eyes fall upon it.

Your brand,

marking you as property
of the House of Batiatus-

I would lay eyes.

[sighs]

[intense music]

[Gabinius] Oh.

Rumor proves truth.

Crassus growls command, and
loyal cur gnaws its own flesh.

[music builds]

Words fell from less noble heights.

Gaius Claudius Glaber gave command,

before he was dispatched from
this world by Spartacus himself,

in the shadow

of Vesuvius.

I had occasion to break meal
with Glaber upon a time.

A most unsettling cast
of eye, absent blink-

as a lizard, encumbered with human form.

A most uncanny assessment
of the man. [chuckles]

And how gauge you
the measure of the one you see

seated before you?

No, come, hold me as friend.

Well, as semblance of such,
as the moment requires.

I see a most noble Roman, well
regarded by deed and tongue-

Flattery is of little worth

to one laden with coin and privilege!

I would have from you
what others withhold-

the f*cking truth!

I see a man of fading years...

clinging to what time remains,

in hopes of preserving tradition
of beloved republic.

Yet many within it increasingly

find him more annoyance than benefit,

save for those of low position
who seek the borrowing of coin.

I see a man possessed
of serpent-tongued wife...

who maneuvers beyond his interests.

[tense music playing]

[laughs]

- Words well broken.
- [laughs]

Now fall from f*cking sight
and remain so removed.

[footsteps retreat]

[intense music playing]

[laughter]

- [grunts]
- Form improves.

Moves from watery sh*t to firm.

- [laughter]
- [grunts]

[sighs]

[grunts]

[grunts]

Wooden man poses slight contest.

Perhaps you would care to engage
more fearsome opponent.

I prefer larger challenge.

f*ck what you prefer, woman.

[both grunt]

Stay down, you f*cking c**t!

Aargh!

[both grunt]

[both grunt]

[both grunt]

[groaning]

The woman at last finds her place-

on her back,

with legs spread.

[grunts]

[high-pitched ringing]

[distorted] Hold her! You f*cking c**t!

[both grunt]

Aargh!

- [grunts]
- [whimpers]

[whimpers]

[screaming]

[grunts]

[grunts]

- [grunts]
- Aargh!

f*cking b*tch!

- Aargh!
- [grunts]

[both grunt]

- [grunts]
- Aargh!

- [thud]
- Aargh!

[both] Aargh!

[grunts]

- [whimpers]
- [grunts]

[screams]

[scream echoes]

Medicus!

- Medicus!
- The man, at last,

finds his place-
legs spread, absent c*ck.

Medicus! Aargh!

Medicus!

[Hedylus] Ephesius? Why is he
so stained with blood?

Give way! Give...

f*cking... way!

Life has fled.

A blessing for one so rudely handled.

[Korris] What has f*cking happened?

[Ephesius] The woman!

She went mad!

He breaks false words.

I was but working palus, when they-

I give no sh*t what they did.

Only the Dominus of the house
can claim life of one who stands

among the brotherhood.

Any man who lays hands upon
me shall fall the same fate,

regardless of f*cking brand.

- She does not belong here!
- Do not speak!

You believe you hold place among us?

I did not ask to be
in this f*cking house,

Yet I stand equal as any man within it.

Then give proof.

Dacus! Steel.

We must stop this.
I will alert villa guards.

Hold.

She makes bold claim.

Let us see it defended.

Doctore, should this matter
not be attended by Dominus?

Fall from f*cking side.

- Korris.
- Hold ground.

Or Dominus will hear you took
wine and fell from f*cking post.

[footsteps retreat]

Retrieve the shield and take position.

You stand for a man absent honor?

I stand for the brotherhood.

Then thank the gods
I am not a part of it.

[tense music]

[roars]

[both grunt]

[echoes] Make her suffer the point!

- Fight her now!
- [both grunt]

Retreat as a coward would. Coward!

[grunts]

For the brotherhood! [roars]

[both grunt]

- You have learned nothing!
- [grunts]

Except how to die absent honor.

Doctore, k*ll her!

Fire will not aid you!

[grunts]

[grunts]

[grunts]

[both grunt]

- Aargh!
- [grunts]

Die!

[roars]

Yes!

Send her to the f*ck afterlife.

[both grunt]

Increase advantage, Doctore!

[both grunt]

Finish her.

For our brother!

[grunts, screams]

f*cking k*ll her!

You fought well, yet fall
short of the brotherhood.

[roar echoes]

[pants]

[softly] I stand mistaken.

[poignant music]

[both grunt]

She took the life of a brother,
yet you let her live?

I am the champion of Akragas.

Freedom won upon the sand,
by my own f*cking will.

And yet this woman, absent experience,

has achieved what none
among you could dare dream of-

she drew blood

against opponent far outmatching
her in skill and experience.

She has earned my respect...

if but for fleeting moment.

And any man who lays
undesired hand upon her...

shall feel my own...

at f*cking throat.

[poignant music continues]

[music builds]

[music continues]

[music continues]