He was promised power for his blood.
He cares about neither. But if he gives his blood, he has a chance at power, and with power comes Freedom. And with Freedom comes….her love.
And love is the only thing that keeps his heart pumping.
When the Roman dog told him his wife was in a life of slavery…it took all the strength from those chains to hold him. He could smell the foul stench surrounding him, the building full of bloodied men and death, the smell of urine and shit. He could smell the Roman dog before him, but despite all these smells the only things he truly smells is the scent of his wife.
It's so faint but he strains to smell it, to allow it to consume his every fiber of his being. It doesn't take much but he's back with her, her body is his and his her's. For a split second he was alive…with her, in heaven.
But a second was the only paradise the gods would allow it seemed. Because seconds later he was kneeling to the Roman and his was in hell. His heaven, his heart, his freedom far from him.
He was a empty body, no heart or soul, only blood. And he would gladly shed every ounce from his body to hold her again.