Spartacus (2010–2013): Season 2, Episode 1 - Fugitivus - full transcript

On the heels of the bloody escape from the House of Batiatus that concluded "Spartacus: Blood and Sand", the gladiator rebellion continues and begins to strike fear into the heart of the ...

Come back!

Behind you!

I believe the man's dead.


Supplies. Be quick.

Take anything of value.

Spartacus, you leave his cock to the sun?


I send a message...

to an old friend.

Pompey was a fool

to engage Sertorius absent support.

When has Pompey ever delayed action

in favor of reason?

Advancing in years,
yet ever the adolescent butcher.

Where youth plummets,

maturity may soar.

Rome will lose all of Hispania

if Pompey's numbers are not
shored against the renegade.

And who would lead such a
force to glorious accolade?

Freshly minted praetor, perhaps?

I serve the Republic, Marcus.

We will take arms against her enemies

if so commanded.

The embellished robes
of a praetor not yet to wrinkle,

and yet he speaks of war and laurels.

I speak only of pressing matters.

We need not tread foreign soil
to find them, do we, Varinius?

Not when Spartacus and his mongrels

continue to evade capture.

The man is no longer
bound to my concerns.

More of young Seppius's men

were slaughtered
on the road outside Capua.

He sends word to me that one
of the fallen bore your name

carved into his chest.

An unfortunate tether.

Quickly to be severed.

Cossutius awaits my attentions.

Apologies to your daughter,

that I could not linger
to gaze upon her.

Disappointment to be tempered

with promise of future visit, hmm?

Come. Let us break meal.

The consuls will present a motion

dispatching you to Capua at once.

This is a simple tumultus, Albinius,

undeserving the attentions of a praetor.

You brought the Thracian
to Roman soil, Gaius.

You granted patronage

to that grinning shit Batiatus

a breath before his house
fell to massacre,

a massacre my daughter
barely fucking escaped!

Varinius lends his support to Seppius.

If he's the one to bring
Spartacus to justice,

then that victory will be used
to embarrass you.

Attend to this,

or see yourself rise
no further within the Senate.

Don't lower your sword.

Eight more Romans sent to the afterlife!


Replace wood with steel
for those who are ready.

Vitus, Pyrrhus, Lysandros,

divide these among you according to skill,

and ready the rest for demonstration.

I will kill many Romans.

Of that, I have no doubt.

Return to training.

Spartacus, we need food,

not more weapons.

Steel and coin are all they carried.


Oh, good.
My fish supper.

Crixus's men fare better.


Where is Crixus?

He seeks Marcellus, the cunt peddler.

Your men have done well
for themselves.

See everyone to equal portion.


Let the rabbits fend for themselves.

You have more than enough.

Gained by blood and risk.

What do they do but lay about?

Divide what you have.

I will not ask again.

Fucking Gauls.

Rhaskos is a selfish fool,

unable to see beyond his own desires.

No one will go hungry tonight.

That is all that matters.

And tomorrow?

Will bring death to yet more Romans.

I would see all of them struck down...

yet not at the cost of your life.

I have proven troublesome to kill.

There is no one that stands your equal.

Yet for those less skilled,

moving towards the mountains in the east

would be sorely welcome.

Game is plentiful there

and Roman numbers sparse.

It would be wise.

Then why do we stay?

What holds us here,

so near Capua and the threat...


I hear you wish to command my men.


Simply to remind them of what is just.

You would have done the same,
had you been present.

I shall have words with them.

They would be better received
from your lips.

You were in town again.

You risk discovery.

I was not seen,

except by Marcellus,

and he will never speak of it.

Did his blood bear fruit?

A name.


The slaver?

He will point us towards her?

Marcellus revealed that he
brokered deal of Naevia.

Where do we find him?

He frequents Capua upon
each moon to trade his wares

and to wet his cock
at Arminius's brothel.

News to lift the heart.

It remains firmly bound
until Naevia is back in my arms.

I will have those words now.


Have you had sight of Doctore?

The ludus was his life's blood.

To lay eyes upon those
who have spilled it,

it would salt mortal wound.

You fight like a woman!

Fucking kill him!

A poor showing,

even for the lesser games
of the Vulcanalia.

Apologies, Magistrate.

These were the best
that could be procured.

The crowd demands spectacle,

They must be distracted,

lest the city fall to ill temper and panic.

Gladiators and games

while Spartacus and
his murdering horde roam free.

Your brother has the matter
well in hand, Seppia.

Words of comfort

to the eight of his men
slaughtered this morning.




Pressing business conspired to delay me.

Is it true, Seppius?

Eight more of your men,
fallen to Spartacus?

A thing of little note.

Spartacus will soon be brought to terms.

And our beloved cousin Sextus avenged.

Or you to join him,

leaving me woefully unattended.

What form of brother would I be

to abandon such cherished blood?

Would that Batiatus yet lived

to feel the sting of blame
properly braced.

Spartacus and his shits will be
put to grass soon enough.

I have already sent dispatch to Rome

for aid in the matter.

Perhaps you can secure
better entertainment as well.

The current offerings bore
beyond the telling.

No! No! No!

No! No! No! No!

A poor showing.

I have nothing of worth.

We seek only words.

I am absent them as well.

You were Batiatus's man,
were you not?

You are mistaken.

No, I saw him

when he yet commanded
the sands of the arena.

I was there in Pompeii
the day he faced Theokoles

and barely lived to speak of it.

Oenomaus, he was called.

It is fortunate you are not him.

The man stands accused
of turning upon his dominus,

the reward for his capture
a substantial sum,

toward Spartacus yet higher.

If he were to be revealed,

a man such as you could...

continue not being himself.

As I said,

I have nothing of worth.

A lesser sum, then.


You are not Batiatus' man.

You should not be outside.

I wanted to see the moon.

Janus loves to gaze upon it.

Varro would hoist him upon his shoulders,

and he would stretch his hands out,

attempting to wrest it from the heavens.

Perhaps one day he shall.

But not upon his father's shoulders.

Janus is yet too young
for memory to take proper hold.

I doubt he would recall
the sight of me now.

You are his mother.

Years would not lessen such a bond.

He will burst as sun through clouds

at the sight of you.

I have dreamt of nothing else
since our parting.

A lopsided grin, eyes promising mischief.

I've seen it many times...

on his father.

It was what drew me to him.

I fell to love the crooked
bend of Varro's lips

long before the man himself.

As did I.

Mira speaks of the mountains to the east.

I have thoughts towards dispatching men

to hunt for game.

Your brother tends to Janus
not far from there, does he not?

The moon within closer reach.

I would shorten the distance.

You think I have not longed
to have it so?

To be far from all of this?

I am branded fugitivus
with the rest of you.

What life could I offer my son
beneath such shadow?


within the Republic.

All the coin I have relieved
of the Romans since our escape...

enough to buy you
and your son passage

far from these shores.


Varro's last words
were of you and Janus,

that I see you cared for.

It need not have been spoken.

Send word to Crescentia

that I must move our midday meal
to later in the week.

And respond to Varis' request

for our presence at his celebration.

We will not be attending.

I know you do not care for the man,

yet he is well connected.

We must make appearance.

Your father would have it otherwise.

He dispatches me to Capua

to deal with Spartacus.

- I will have word with him.
- He is set upon it.

You are a praetor, Gaius.

Hunting errant slaves is beneath you.

Yet it must be done.

But I promise we will return to Rome

well before our child enters this world.


You will accompany me, of course.

I will not.


I am bound to the house
of Batiatus by patronage,

granted only to bury knowledge

of the blood staining your hands.

What happened to Licinia was an accident.

She was the cousin of Marcus Crassus!

She was a fucking bitch!

All who knew of the deed

speak no more.

Let us put it behind us.

I intend to.

Now make preparations.

We leave for Capua

to put an end to the curse of Spartacus.

You believe the words of Marcellus,

bleated from tongue with sword to neck?

Crixus moves on Arminius
and his place of whores,

and I will be at his side.

So we follow the fucking Gaul now?

I swore aid in the matter.

You did not.

I would not think less if you stayed from it.

I am with you.

You had me at whores.

Avoid unnecessary risk

and provoking words towards the Gauls.

Was he swayed?

Have you met the man?

Taking such a large force
to the city is foolish.

As are all things
in the pursuit of a woman.

Peirastes leads the hunt for game.

He will see you safely
to your son's arms,

from where you have been
too long absent.

See your boy to a man,

that I may one day greet him
as a brother.

I will tell Janus of you,

of the man who loved his
father above all others.

She takes to foot?

Long overdue.

As are many things this night.

This is not your fight, Spartacus.

I gave my word.

Blood and honor,

it yet speaks to the man.

Then let us split darkness
with the cries of Romans.



Where is Trebius?


- Get off the fucking floor!
- No!

Get off the fucking floor, bitch!


I would have words.

I would not.


- Your man?
- More guards!

We need...

Trebius. You fucking cunt!


This is the Roman shit
that sold me and Duro to Batiatus.

My brother would be alive
if it were not for him.

He knows the whereabouts of Naevia.

We will take him and go.

He will not last.

I need but a moment.

You shall have it.

The man meets his end.

That is all that matters.


You brokered the sale of a woman

from the house of Batiatus,

dark of skin,

the mark of the domina
upon the back of her shoulder.

Where is she?

Fuck yourself.

I'm already dead.

There is life in you yet.

Speak, and see it ended quickly.


There are villas and farms

far from the city.

And Naevia was sold to one of them?

No. She was handed
from dominus to dominus,

a gift from Batiatus to secure favor

on his campaign for fucking aedile.

These places you speak of,

how heavily are they guarded?

It would not matter
if the gods stood watch.

How many villas are there in the south?

Over what spread of distance?

How will you know if Naevia's
even located in one of them?

Only a few are owned by men of note,

cocks Batiatus would have sucked
to further his cause.

We'd be exposed, in the open.

We must proceed with caution.

You advising caution?

The tempest shouts
for the breeze to calm itself!

What good will your death be to Naevia

if we do not pause to think?

She has been from my arms too long.

I do not have time to sit and ponder.

None of us do now.

What is your meaning?

With his last breath,
Trebius frothed of Rome

and the death that has been
dispatched from her bosom

to wash us away in rivers of blood.


Arriving with the sun.

Who leads them?

The city is in a panic.

Scores were slaughtered
in the raid against Arminius.


See the men fed and rested.

Squads to sweep the countryside by nightfall.

Your will, Praetor.

Fall out! Break supplies!

Do you have enough men for this?

It does not appear you have enough men.

They face only slaves,

not Hannibal at the gates.

They are gladiators, led by Spartacus,

- the Slayer of the Shadow of...
- Where is the magistrate?

I would discuss this
with someone of note.

He was otherwise detained,
in view of last night's...

He sends apologies.

Seppius, however, is eager for audience.

The man has Praetor Varinius's ear.

I have no desire for his tongue
to fill mine as well.

I would address the people,
put their minds to ease,

tomorrow as the sun rises
in the marketplace.

What will you say?

Attend to the arrangements.

Yes, Praetor.

Why have I been brought here?

Gaius, why have I been brought here?

To this house?

The hilltop offers

excellent vantage of the surrounding country.

The ludus below will easily garrison my men.

Then use it as such.

I will remove myself to my father's villa.

You will stay at my side.

Now, set the house to order.

This is our home now, Ilithyia.

Until Spartacus falls.

I want everything in this fucking house

seen over the cliff.

We will purchase
new appointments of much coin.

If my husband would have me here,

he can certainly pay for the comfort.

And see all traces of blood cleansed.

It reeks of Batiatus and his faded bitch.

- Go! Go!
- Yes, Domina.

What has happened?

In matters concerning my wife,

the gods themselves fear to speculate.

Have you lost wit?


You should have sent word
you were coming.

We would have prepared a feast.


You see it, then?

- You see it?
- Naevia,

bring wine for our honored guests.

Kill it. Kill it! Kill it!


This is Batiatus's wife?

A shadow of the same.

And yet she lives.

To be spared from such carnage,

a blessing from the gods,

one that would calm a city,
if it were known to be such.



I do not know where she's gone.


Why do you pause?

She could prove a powerful symbol.

It would give the city hope

to see a woman
survive Spartacus and his men

and courage to confront them,

speeding your return to Rome.


you cannot let her live.

See her bathed and tended

and what fragments
her shattered mind yet holds.

- The Roman army?!
- We are all of us dead!

- Grab your fucking cock.
- We never wanted this!

You gladiators,
you will see us all to our end.

- You little fuck.
- Agron!

We knew this day would come.

Some have feared its approach.

Others have longed for it.

Yet few have grasped deeper meaning...

that this moment...

was always fated to be so.

I made promise to all of you

when the house of Batiatus fell...

that we would see Rome tremble.

You are the ones that shall quake.

I have witnessed Glaber
and his men entering the city,

enough in number to end your lives.

Then stand with us, and balance the odds.

Mercato has announced
Glaber will make address

in the market as day breaks.

It would be wise to use the distraction

and leave such thoughts behind.


That is no longer my title.

Where do you go?

There is but one place

for an animal without honor.

He is lost to us.

How many more would you have follow?

Come on.

Join with us, brother.

We can head south

while Glaber cups his balls
and makes speeches.

He's the reason I am here

and my wife forever absent.

You often preach to me about caution.

Turn advice now towards self.

We are ready.

House slaves playing at being men.

They are not gladiators.

They are not an army,
as much you wish it to be so.

Sleep upon it, Spartacus,

but when the sun rises,

I would see reason dawn.


How did we come by it,
with the drought?

Drought is long past.

Do you not recall its ending?

It is of no concern. Come.

I would have you dry
and seen to proper dress.

Your wound.


How did you come by it?

Leave us.

It must have been terrible...

trapped within these walls,

your beasts running wild.

Everyone believed you dead,

smashed upon the cliffs,

bits of bone and flesh...

your only testament.

How did you survive all alone?


We are friends, are we not?

The very best.

And you have so many...

Aemilia, Caecilia...


Cousin to Marcus Crassus.

It would be a very great honor
to be seen at her side.

Would you make introduction?

Let us see you dressed.


Why didn't you tell me?

You're with child.

Quintus and I have been trying
for such a long time.

This is a sign,

a sign from the gods.

Life blossoms in the house of Batiatus.

This is why we are yet in Capua...

why you saw Aurelia away.

You hoped they would send Glaber.


I prayed for it.

And what do you pray for now

to the gods you do not believe in?

Would your wife have wanted this?

To see her husband consumed?

There are many things
she would not have wanted,

and yet they are so.

Follow Crixus to the south.

Do not let your vengeance

claim so many
you have saved from bondage.

I would not see another life
forfeit to my desires.

We will find Naevia

and move far beyond
the grasp of Rome...

far from the name Spartacus
they have branded you with.

Let us turn thought from uncertain future

and embrace fleeting moment.

Get up!
Move to fucking purpose.

Be ready when word is given.

You bark as a dominus.

Sheep stand idle
if not prodded by snapping jaw.

- Lazy fuck.
- Get up!

Does the maw from a pup
spur the same?

Let us compare teeth and have answer.

Cease your quarrels.

I am for Spartacus
and the lay of his thoughts.

Last night, they were
towards heeding caution

and joining you in the south.

And in the light of morning?

He was gone from our bed
when I awoke.

There is no cause for rising concerns!

The situation is well in control!

What of Arminius?!

Is that fucking control?!


It was an act of savagery,

committed by animals
who know nothing more.

These same beasts laid waste
to the house of Batiatus.

Many were lost that night,

women of proper standing,

men of honor and position,

my own cousin Sextus,

your beloved magistrate of years past,

among the dead.

He speaks the truth!

At the hands of butchers,

who crave only blood and death.

And they shall see it returned in kind.

But Spartacus leads them!

Even Theokoles fell before him!

He's the Bringer of Rain!

Spartacus is but a man,

and not all fall to his touch.

The wife of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus

stood against the merciless assault

of Spartacus and his dogs,

and by favor of the gods...

she yet lives.

It's a miracle!

Gods be praised!

It is a blessing!

You stand eclipsed.

You ought to shed a fucking tear.

She is their herald...

plucked from the shores of the afterlife

to deliver a message

that Spartacus shall never triumph

over the people of Capua!

He comes.

He comes.
He comes.

- He comes.
- Still yourself.

And yet the gods
grace us with further signs

that Spartacus's end is near.

Burn! Burn!
Just fucking burn her!

Open her guts onto the ground!

Hack that bitch! Fuck her!

- Get rid of her!
- Gut the cunt!

My men came upon
a clutch of Batiatus' slaves

attempting harm
in the mountains to the east.

This one is all that remains
amongst the living.

Before she succumbs to her wounds,

I will force her tongue to purpose,

and with her dying breath,

she will tell me

where Spartacus and his men
hide themselves.

And they shall be struck
from this mortal world

by the hand of Gaius Claudius Glaber!

Glaber! Glaber! Glaber!

Preening little shit.

I rather favor him.

As I favor the shade of our villa.

Thank you.


Surround him!

Seize him!


Seize him!

Take Aurelia and go!

Where is Naevia?

Take him!

You cannot win this!

Stay, and see vengeance forever denied.

You are no better than Rhaskos
and the fucking Gauls.

All driven only by your own desires.

Do any of us hold fucking worth to you?

The reason I went alone.

A hard comfort, if you had
fallen to Glaber's men.

Agron would have led you south.

We need a leader,

not some angry boy who can barely piss

without splashing everyone about him.

What would you have me do?

Turn from the man that condemned
my wife to slavery?

Let him live,

that took everything from me?

Your heart still beats.

Place ear to chest,

and you will find it absent sound.

And yet you are not dead.

Because of you.

Know that you have my gratitude.

I didn't come to lend you aid,
you mad fuck.

I came to stop you.

You would place yourself between
Glaber and what he deserves?

As you would place yourself
between Naevia and me.

What do you think would be the result

of killing a fucking praetor?

The Senate would burn upon itself,

belching forth fire and vengeance.

They would not send a few men,
as they do with Glaber.

They would send thousands,

a true army...

which we will never be.

Aurelia calls for you.


I am here.

Promise me...



you will stay far from my son.

I would not have him die in your wake...

as his father

and mother.

Glaber and his men will pay in blood.

Gather swords.


We move south...

to find Naevia.

Let Crixus and the other Gauls
chase lost hope.

- Spartacus...
- The decision's been made.

We must stand as one...

or fall divided.

A lesson hard learned.

Shackle will be struck

from every slave upon our path.

We will see our numbers grow,

and when they have become legion,

we will face Glaber

and the hordes of Rome again,

and the gods shall weep
for their suffering.