Spartacus: House of Ashur

Begin!

From the savage lands of Kush, Achillia, the Goddess of Death.

There are none but men beneath this roof,

and you but stand the least offensive.

I would see her stand victorious in the arena,

only to offer fatal blow myself.

I prepare for travel at break of morning sun.

You remain?

The gods themselves could not pry me loose.

- - Seize them!

Cilicians. Your men nearly had my fucking life.

Yet here you stand.

Was purse not swelled with coin in return for maneuvering

Cossutia and her daughter to appointed time and place?

- A decision now held in regret. - It is a disappointment

I shall not find you among my worshippers.

Nor perhaps at all among the living.

What do I stand towards you?

- - Yes!

Achillia! Achillia!

[rapid percussive music, singing echoes]

Spirit her to fucking medicus. Go!

She cannot die on eve of greatest victory!

Is concern for the woman or your fucking house?

The two stand entwined, you bearded fuck!

Shhh.

Neferet! Neferet!

The gods bless us with one hand

and ram fist up ass with the other.

Achillia was not alone in victory. Tarchon, Celadus--

The crowds did not raise their names towards the heavens.

They lifted Achillia's.

Our fortune rests with her and her alone.

- Does she yet draw breath? - She does.

Yet sundered hand must be removed before infection sets.

You would see my champion crippled?

- There is no other path. - Do I not possess fucking leg

after grievous wound inflicted by

the fucking Gaul Crixus in the arena?

The medicus of Batiatus restored limb,

and here I stand before you.

Then present the man

and see him towards better result.

He perished during conflict with mad Thracian.

Carry my greetings.

Argh!

- - That was ill advised.

We find ourselves in need of a medicus.

How were relations left between you and Opiter?

Favorable.

Will she live?

You have shown no concern towards the Nubian,

yet now it blooms?

Only towards pressing need.

Messages arrive requesting appearance

of the Goddess of Death.

Who requests her?

- Everyone. -

- Hmm. - How shall I reply?

Make no promise towards her presence, nor condition,

yet sow notion where she stands immortal

and shall rise as phoenix upon a day.

And if fabled bird plummets?

Then this house falls with her.

Apologies.

I did not realize my bath stood occupied.

- - Mmm.

- Mmm. -

- - None required.

Purpose has been seen to completion.

The old fool Gabinius stood pleased your champion

did not perish -

at least... not in the arena.

A sentiment to be turned towards advantage.

Make no move absent my blessing.

- Mm. - I shall think upon it.

Messia, remain to attend Dominus.

I would see her hands towards loftier task.

Come.

Yes, Domina.

She stands your slave to command.

Not that of Caesar's bitch.

Cornelia carries weight of family name eclipsing that

of even noble husband.

She must be tolerated, upon the moment.

See bath drained and refreshed.

I will not soak in waters tainted

by her passions.

I did not expect to see you so far from slumber

- at such an hour. - See that broken,

and fingers to follow.

What errand has the Syrian set you upon now?

He would entreat use of your medicus.

- What of your own man? - He has...

taken wing.

Our champion is in need of urgent care and discretion.

You will have both.

Sentius, fetch Echemus.

Yes, Dominus.

- Gratitude. - Retain it.

I no longer have use for the man.

You depart Capua?

Your powers of observation are truly unmatched.

Were you to break fucking word in advance of deed?

Towards what purpose?

I grow weary of forever giving chase.

Perhaps in Sicilia I shall find myself the object of pursuit.

- Is that where you flee? - I merely seize moment

towards more favorable ventures.

As do all who hasten exit at darkest hour.

See yourself to street. I must attend to my affairs.

No.

Give voice to what truly moves you to sudden action.

And see burden shared.

You know well what moves me.

Do you not you live beneath the roof

of the House of fucking Caesar?

Caesar?

But what hold does the man have towards you?

I aided in his ruse of Cilician attack...

and in protesting life lost in such

now stand the object of his fucking wrath.

The Cilicians were Caesar's men?

You did not know?

No, I did not.

Nor your part in the fucking scheme.

As I did not know Caesar's desires rose towards blood.

Now I stand trapped as insect fixed upon web

and would see myself removed from Capua before spider returns

with venomous intent.

Hmm.

So we fall from one another.

Such need not hold true.

Stay at my side.

Let us away to Sicilia together.

I cannot leave my duties.

Duties of treachery

and bloodshed the Syrian compels?

Do not take my meaning unkindly, yet a man of your years

is blessed by each passing day.

Do you wish to spend those remaining in servitude

to such a... creature?

You would have me abandon all I hold towards honor?

I would but have you strive for something more.

Turn from cold, uncaring arms,

in favor of loving embrace.

- Can you fucking save her? -

- What words does the man break? - Greek.

Did you not think to ask if he could speak

common fucking tongue?

You stand Syrian. Do you not grasp the man's language?

Towards completion of simple trade, I am your man.

Beyond such, I stand as ignorant as you-

- Uh... - Fuck.

Huh? Fuck. Fuck!

Uh...

Who within our house grasps the man's tongue?

Knowledge your fucking doctore does not hold.

I do not care for your fucking tone.

Nor I for life being put at peril,

absent awareness.

Who has done so?

The villain stands before me.

Opiter confides that our coming upon the Cilician attack

was not by happenstance.

Nor were they Cilicians.

How has he come by this?

Then he breaks truth. You conspired with Caesar

to stage attack to gain favor with Gabinius.

My hand holds no place in this.

Caesar moved pieces upon board absent consultation

with the villain before you, you fucking shit.

- When did you discover such? - Only after his arrival.

What part does Opiter play in this?

Moved by Caesar's purse, he saw Cossutia

to appointed time and place. He now takes flight to Sicilia

for fear his tongue will be forever stilled

to conceal misdeed.

He moves as anyone with fucking sense

when confronted with the ambitions of Caesar.

Why was threat carried not revealed to me

when you learned of it?

You'll know of my thoughts...

when I deem it fucking so.

Argh!

Dominus!