16. AGAINST ALL HOPE

Crassus's army was exhausted. The newly built camp was just the illusion of a moment of rest that would never happen since soon, the emperor would give the order to resume the march to shorten the distance that separated them from the rebels.

Caesar walked with his head held high along the entire route that would lead him to Crassus.

An advance legion had brought fresh and reassuring news.

"I bring news that gladdens the heart!" Caesar was announced in the presence of the emperor.

Crassus turned with obvious curiosity and could not help widening his eyes when he saw in the arms of another soldier a little girl with long blond hair, blue eyes and ... pointed ears!

The little girl held her muzzle and her face was streaked with tears but she didn't seem frightened.

"We have triumphed..." Crassus began to say "...in something deemed impossible!" He said satisfied. "What's your name?" Asked approaching the girl "Shit!" Getting a very disappointing response.

Core appeared at the entrance at that moment and like everyone else, he couldn't take his eyes off the girl. "You weren't requested!" Crassus told her with a cold attitude.

"I apologize, but at the rebel camp I was able to interact with her!" She lied "I could take care of it, to make you feel safe..." "Your well-being doesn't worry me!" Crassus shouted "Take her away!" He spat the order and the guards obeyed by dragging the slave into the tent reserved for servants.

They turned as Aranel's screams became deafening.

She fidgeted like a wild animal and eventually the guard lost his grip causing her to fall to the ground.

"Get her!" Caesar shouted and three men were quick to obey.

The first managed to grab her by the arm but a bite made him lose his grip.

The other two threw themselves at her, but the little girl crawled under the table and then climbed up on the chair, immediately after on the cabinet, where she grabbed an apple present on a large tray full of things with a very good scent.

"Rest! He just wants to eat!" Crassus calmed them, astonished at an incredible display of agility by such a small child.

Aranel ignored the apple, slipping it into his tunic as a spare, getting on all fours and lowering his head to smell the carrot and potato meat on the plate. It smelled good!

She took her fork and skewered the meat, lifting the whole slice that immediately fell, making the sauce splash all over her and everywhere.

Crassus approached slowly, the little girl recoiled in alarm and after taking some other cutlery began to cut the meat into small pieces.

"It's mine!" Aranel protested, grabbing the tray by the handle, starting to lift it slightly and banging it on the table with a loud crash.

She repeated the gesture several times, ignoring the sauce that was overflowing, soiling the table.

Caesar started to approach but was blocked by a sign from Crassus who had stopped cutting the meat and patiently waited for the little girl to stop, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

As soon as the child calmed down Crassus finished cutting the meat, bringing the plate to the child, trying to stay at a certain distance.

Aranel began to eat saying incomprehensible words between one bite and the next while staring at the emperor "Lanter!" (Old man!) Aranel nodded after thinking about it "Usquener!" (Smelly!) Was true "Saurar!" (Crazy!) That was what Mom called Milo when he was being bad.

"What language does he speak?" Caesar asked amazed, it sounded melodious and elegant and he could swear he had never heard it.

"I don't want to be false. But I think it's that of the slaves!" Crassus answered starting to walk around the room.

"You said his well-being was not of interest to you, why did you act differently?" He asked confused. "Because a dog is not made docile with a whip. The flow of time distances man from the simplicity of life, we have the opportunity to win his trust without prejudice and it is our duty to grasp it!" Crassus said enthusiastically.

Caesar was distracted by so much wisdom when a carrot landed on his face soiling it with the grease of the sauce.

"Sana sina!" (Take this!) The little girl screamed laughing as she used the spoon as a catapult.

Milo had taught her to do it with nasty people!

Aranel burst into tears as soon as he saw that big and evil man approaching threateningly. "Don't touch it!" Crassus shouted imperiously.

Caesar stopped emitting an annoyed grunt and then bowed his head in the direction of the emperor to apologize.

A laugh made him turn around and he saw that Aranel was looking at him with a satisfied smile.

The Roman rolled his eyes and mentally said all known curses, clenching his hands into fists until his knuckles whitened.


In the thick of the woods, numerous eyes and ears were alert. The rebels had camped out to catch their breath during their months-long stampede, but not everyone seemed to be able to relax.

Thranduil was finally back and Sara didn't know how to tell Hanna that she hadn't seen Aranel with him. She walked disconsolately in a small clearing, next to the tent where her friend was.

She looked at the one next door where Cassia struggled between life and death.

She knew well what they were risking, at least he had always believed it.

She and Hanna had fought in many wars, killed enemies, risked their lives, yet it seemed they didn't fully understand the danger, as if they were still little girls just enslaved.

They had always been happy and busy fooling around most of the time, which is when they didn't have to fight or take care of the baby.

In short, Sara realized that they had not yet grown up despite the experience gained on the battlefield. Cassia had told the truth with a simple joke: Aranel had sometimes shown herself more mature than them! She couldn't tell if it was in her nature as an elf, but she remembered well that in the moments before each battle, ever since she had learned to crawl, the little girl became extremely silent and listless in doing anything except being in her mother's arms or of the father.

As if she sensed something was about to happen, on the contrary, she and Hanna laughed and joked even during the journey that separated them from the battlefield!

Was it their way of ... enjoying life? Did the idea of an eternal existence have the illusion that everything could last indefinitely?

Because he could swear the thought of losing Aranel had never crossed their minds.

One moment! Yes, once, when Leta had warned them of the danger.

The problem was that once they had put a little distance between them and Crassus's army they had immediately dismissed the matter as if it were of little importance.

Yet even Thranduil seemed to have done so, going ahead and leaving them alone.

Aside from the elf, Sara realized that it was time to grow up. To open your eyes, that wasn't a fairytale.

As absurd as their new life was and you could bet on it ... if they hadn't taken it seriously they would have been bummed! And he would do anything to save little Aranel!

It was his granddaughter, an innocent child who didn't deserve to grow up believing that this was all normal!

She saw the elf enter the tent and did not reassure her immediately after seeing the others come out.


Hanna was silent, lying on that makeshift bed as she seemed to no longer pay attention to the world around her.

Thranduil sat down beside him and felt a mixture of emotion stir in his chest as she pulled her arm away from his touch.

"I'm sorry!" He said sadly referring to what had happened far too long ago.

By now their beloved daughter had surely ended up in the clutches of Crassus towards an uncertain future. "Are you sorry..." Hanna repeated in a tone full of anger "You know at first I thought it was entirely my fault!" she revealed.

She turned to his companion and looked at him with hatred, surprising him.

"But then your actions..." she spat furiously "...those who believe himself to be a great ruler ..." she spoke slowly with a derogatory tone "... they opened my eyes!" she ended.

Hanna sat up abruptly and held back a moan because of the pain her leg injury caused.

"Hanna..." "Was it your plan to sacrifice your offspring?" she asked with tears in her eyes that she could hardly hold back "Oh sure! Being a little bastard wasn't important enough to you! So there is Legolas to hold the reins of your kingdom!" She mocked him in a cracked voice.

Thranduil sighed, fury showed in every gesture and facial feature, but strangely he spoke with unexpected calm.

"They were too far away. Chasing them I would have fallen into a trap playing their game!" he said.

"Ah so now it's a game?" Hanna asked in shock.

"You know, I have always believed that it was the Valar who brought us together, in the hope that our love would unify two peoples who for centuries had looked at each other with distrust!" she said knowing that this Thranduil already knew "But now I think the Valar wanted to punish you by sending you here!" she said with a laugh full of mockery.

"The mighty King of Mirkwood reduced to a miserable slave, whose death would have been devoid of honor and glory ...uhm yes, maybe if you had perished in the arena you would have had them, but according to the mentality of the poor mortals!" she mocked him.

"I could say the same thing about you!" Thranduil replied in a tone "A poor orphan who finally finds herself in the place where they would have treated her as she deserves!" He too went down hard.

"If you let yourself be misled so easily it means that I am deluded. You didn't understand how powerful a feeling like love is and I made the mistake of giving you mine!" He said immediately turning pain into anger. "But poor thing, did I hurt your feelings?" Hanna asked pretending to be repentant.

"I find it very funny..." She declared satisfied "... especially from one who deprives the mother of his daughter!".

"It's mine too!" He remembered.

"And you showed that you don't give a damn!" She replied.

"I preferred to withdraw to be able to free her safely! Don't you understand that they could have threatened his life by seeing me arrive?" Thranduil tried to tear the veil of anger that momentarily blinded her.

"You are now a strategist. Well, with your dear dead daughter, your wits won't be very useful!" Without much success as Hanna had not laid down the hatchet.

"She's not dead yet!" Azrael growled, stiffening more.

"How do you know? Do your elf senses feel his heart beating?" She asked increasingly furious.

"It's hard to explain, but yes!" Thranduil replied, ignoring the anger.

"Wait wait! So if they kill her, do you die too? You know those fantasy stories where if you kill a dragon its knight also dies? Are we at those levels? " Hanna scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but a strong bond is created between father and son, if you were an elf you'd know what I'm talking about. I feel it and I know it is still alive!" Thranduil said angry that she wasn't making the slightest effort to understand.

"Wow! You know maybe Narwain should have asked for pointy ears as well as immortality!" Hanna said, aware that she was turning the knife in the wound.

"Will you let the Romans divide us?" Azrael asked with a last attempt.

"You did it, leaving us alone in the woods!" She answered in kind.

"You didn't oppose my decision!" He pointed out, "I was returning to you ... as soon as I sensed the danger! But Pompeius men took us by surprise, they shouldn't have been so far north! That's why I didn't arrive on time! Crassus took advantage of this advantage!" He said knowing that he had no chance to open her eyes. "No, I didn't, but a millennial creature should show greater discernment!" Exactly.

"I can't predict the future!" The elf said.

"Then I'll have to turn to Elrond next time!" It was like talking to a dwarf!

"You know, I have always admired your strength and vitality present in you, now I realize I was wrong! You let yourself be destroyed without a fight!" He finally decided to say "Do you really want to leave me to fight alone?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"You abandoned me in time of need! You didn't protect our daughter!" She screamed accusing him.

"We do not have! I trusted you and you showed yourself an incapable and weepy child who gives up in the face of the first failure!" He attacked her.

"I wonder if the ability to surround yourself with such insignificant people is your talent!" She joked with a fake smile.

"Silence!" Thranduil growled, clenching his fists and breathing heavily in an attempt to regain control over the anger that was overwhelming him.

"I am sorry great King, but you have fallen off the pedestal. Besides, I'm not an elf, so I don't have to obey you!" Hanna said waving a hand and lying down, making sure to turn away from him.

"Good! Stay here to feed yourself with hatred and resentment! You can continue your existence by drowning in it as far as I'm concerned!" Thranduil yelled, blinded by anger and pain.

"I lost my daughter! My only reason for living! Nothing matters anymore!" Hanna said in a firm voice but with warm tears streaming down her face.

"You know maybe we really saved you from disappearing..." she interrupted him "..and you, as a good selfish person, only think about how to return to your goddamn kingdom, ignoring the costs!" Thranduil stormed out of the tent, to avoid saying anything else that he might regret.


"Is the soup ready? I'm starving!" These were the last words of a Roman sitting by the fire waiting for supper before an arrow pierced his trachea.

The other ten men were alerted immediately, but could not do anything against the group of warriors who surrounded them, disarmed and forced to their knees.

A silence steeped in terror fell as soon as the eyes of the Romans rested on the angel of death, who advanced towards them with extreme calm.

The elf grabbed the first soldier by the throat lifting him as if he were a stick.

"Where is the elf girl?" Gannicus asked making his two swords clash as if to give more emphasis to his question and to make those slimy worms understand that they meant it!

"I-I don't ... I know w-what you're talking about!" The Roman suspended in the air gasped.

"Then you are useless!" Atticus said nodding towards his father who wasted no time and pierced the man in the belly with his sword, letting him crash a corpse to the ground.

"Think carefully, pay attention and answer our questions ... if you don't want to share his destiny!" Tigris said walking among the Romans on his knees, with heavy steps.

Gannicus grabbed a Roman by the armor dragging him in front of Azrael.

"Where is the elf girl that Crassus captured?" Milo asked kneeling in front of the trembling man.

"He is with the emperor! With the emperor! " The soldier answered with excitement.

"There are many camps scattered throughout this territory. And also Crassus last time was not where he apparently seemed to be! Answer the questions and I won't kill you!" Atticus said pointing his sword at the Roman's throat referring to the trap implemented by the enemy in the mountains.

"Fuck you filthy slave!" Shouted another.

Thranduil was quick to drop him on his back with a kick before hitting him with a club in the leg, breaking his thigh bone.

The scream of agony was music to his ears. A thousand whispers begged for blood and death!

The Romans had to pay!

Another cry rose from the soldier who was in front of Milo when the latter plunged a knife into his leg, moving the blade into the wound to convince him to speak.

Meanwhile in the rebel camp Spartacus was studying the map to understand how to move quickly and in such a way as to be able to increase the advantage without exhausting his own.

"Spartacus ..." Agron entered the tent out of breath and having an anguished expression, but he could not say anything but Nasir entered from the opposite side looking devastated.

The Syrian was the first to speak "Cassia..." he whispered, unable to say more, but in his eyes you could read the horrible truth.

Milo's partner hadn't survived her injuries!

"What news are you the bearer of?" Spartacus asked, turning to the German trying to ignore the suffering that such news caused him.

He knew Cassia well, a strong woman full of character.

He had welcomed Leta as an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time, allowing her to integrate easily. "Azrael and Gannicus are gone! They and a handful of men vanished into the night, marching against Crassus!" He said worried that their movements would reveal the position to the enemy.

"The child!" He made Spartacus.

The father had not been able to wait and had disobeyed his orders.

Didn't he understand that this was what Crassus hoped for?

They were playing the enemy's game and he absolutely had to find a strategy with which to run for cover in an attempt to stem further deaths!


The daughter of the angel of death was beautiful, even as a child.

Thinking for her of a destiny like hers made her suffer. Core turned to the slaves in front of her.

She had to stop shaking and show herself for who she really was: a woman made strong by unpleasant life events that she couldn't choose!

"I know you are afraid. But I'm tired of enduring in silence!I was humiliated, raped, ignored and trampled on! Spartacus opened my eyes and Azrael made me feel protected!" Gasps came from the group of slaves who were listening to her.

"Spartacus believed that Crassus had sent me, he feared for the life of all those who follow him. Women, children, old people and men who have broken the chains to be free! Azrael's wife gave me protection, along with him!" Core was determined to take the chosen path without constraints.

Better to die than to live as slaves!

"The daughter of the angel of death is in grave danger! Now that I can actually do something ... I'm not going to stand by! Crassus is no different! Nobody is! The slightest suspicion about each of you will suffice and you will be crucified! Do you want to live a life in fear, or do you want to choose alone to fight so that your lives are given a fair value?" She asked getting some whispers of agreement.

"The elf girl is in a tent surrounded by guards! How will we be able to succeed in such an undertaking?" Asked one who did not trust at all.

Core hesitated. She knew she was leading them to certain death, but he had to convince them it was a necessary sacrifice!

"We will send a message..." another slave began "...to all the others! If even we, the slaves of Marcus Licinius Crassus, can rebel against him, then everyone can!" she said raising a fist to the sky.

She was Cantara's friend, the harlot brutally killed by the son of Crassus.

"We don't have to do it for ourselves, but for all the other slaves. I have a dream: that no one should die for the Roman amusement anymore! I don't want to leave this world like Cantara! But fighting!" This was enough to convince even the most skeptical.

They all knew each other and were convinced that they could give a powerful meaning to their death!


Core took up position with Cantara's friend next to the tent where the little elf was held prisoner.

They had to hurry! It would not take the Romans long to notice their absence along with that of the guard in front of their tent, replaced by a disguised servant.

A slave started arguing with another, attracting general attention.

The others attacked the guards instantly while Core's companion took the opportunity to run inside the tent and free the little girl from the chains with the key stolen from one of the guards.

The alarm was immediate!

Core saw another ally arrive on the back of a horse urging ten horses to gallop fast.

She blocked them in front of the tent and the girl ran inside to see why her friend took so long.

She entered and stiffened before the scene that presented itself.

Her friend was fighting against a Roman, or rather, she was being punished with kicks and punches.

The guard was so focused on her that not seeing Core coming, he gave her the opportunity to slit his throat with a knife stolen from another soldier.

The girl took the key from her dying partner and set about freeing the child.

The little girl pulled back saying something incomprehensible to her and making the chain tighten.

"I'm here to help!" Core tried hearing the voices getting closer and closer "I'm your friend!" she tried again unsuccessfully "I want to take you back to your mom and dad! I'm like them, see?" She asked showing the mark on her right forearm "I'm a slave!".

The girl's face lit up as she saw the mark of slavery and she leapt into her arms.

Core wasted no time and once he clicked the lock of the iron collar tight around the child's neck, he ran out. The Romans were within walking distance of them.

She saw Crassus behind a front line of guards and started running.

She practically threw the little girl into her companion's arms, before getting on a horse and starting at a gallop.

The Romans were everywhere and the situation seemed to have no solution.

But the fire set by other slaves, added to additional horses freed and put to flight, distracted the soldiers enough to allow them to escape.

As soon as they crossed the borders of the camp, the companion was pierced by a spear and Core managed to catch the child by a whisker before she fell to the ground with the corpse, just because they ran alongside each other.

She lowered herself, in an attempt to protect the child and dodge the blows of arrows and spears every time avoided by a whisker.

She pushed the horse into the middle of the group and when she saw the clump of trees approaching she seemed done, but an arrow pierced her shoulder making her gasp in pain.

It was the gods who kept her steady on her back, because her vision blurred several times and it was the horse that decided the path to take.


Azrael and his men had remained stationed not far from the Roman camp for days, hoping to find a breach in the enemy's organization, but nothing seemed feasible!

Then one evening, the initial confusion had moved them.

They had attacked the edges of the camp, burning and killing anyone, the Romans seemed distracted by the chaos inside not to worry about them.

The elf had seen the runaway herd rush out of the camp and had clung to one of the first horses, imitated by the others.

Seeing Aranel saved in the arms of a slave, evident signs were the poor clothes and the terrified look on his face, had been a relief.

Fear blocked him from seeing the man being killed and falling to the ground with his daughter.

But a gentle hand had grabbed the last Aranel, drawing her to safety. Tigris and Hagen had him covered in those seconds, not hesitating a moment when he ordered them to focus on protecting the girl.

A shower of arrows and pitch had fallen on the Romans, who, taken by surprise, had taken care to get on the defensive allowing the fugitive to reach and overcome the borders of the camp.

Many arrows had grazed them in their stampede and many rebels had fallen.

Azrael had flanked the girl and managed to stabilize her and keep her in the saddle when the poor thing was hit.

Aranel was ecstatic to see him again and he was so too!

They galloped for a long time, Aegnor and the other horses following obediently as they overtook and passed them, knowing that stopping could mean dying.

But once in the thick of the woods, the Romans had withdrawn, or rather a surprise attack by Spartacus and his men hidden in the vegetation, had made them desist. They had ridden until dawn, before stopping. Aranel slept peacefully in his father's arms, drowsy despite the constant movement of the horse.

"The girl is dead! He lost too much blood!" Milo informed him as soon as they dismounted.

Azrael sighed. He wanted to at least thank her, but he couldn't even do that.

Stopping to heal her hadn't been possible and she hadn't been strong enough to hold out that long!


The elf was surprised by the Thracian's intervention, not believing he would ever do it.

"Thank you! Without you, I'm afraid the outcome would have been very different!" Azrael said, bowing his head in respect.

The rain-bringer smiled.

"I was a fool to stall! I doubt I would have done it if it had been my daughter and for this I apologize!" He admitted sincerely.

"The past cannot be changed. But you made amends and for this you have my gratitude!" The elf replied, implying that the resentment had disappeared. His daughter was safe, nothing else mattered!

Furthermore, Spartacus had immediately informed Azrael of the latest news and the elf had forbidden him to reveal such news to Milo.

At least as long as they were so close to the enemy, fearing a reckless reaction given by pain in learning that the love of his life was lost forever.

As he had foreseen, once they returned to the camp Hanna had snatched Aranel from his arms without saying a word, continuing to ignore him and appear angry.

He decided to ignore her knowing that it would take some time for the anger to subside.

They had resumed their journey immediately after their return and Milo, devastated, had taken the body of his beloved with him, wanting to burn it on a pyre with full honors.

That evening the ceremonies in homage to Crixus and Cassia were staged.

Spartacus stood in the center of what appeared to be a small arena speaking in front of all the slaves assembled in respectful silence.

"Tonight, our hearts rejoice as we rejoin those we thought were lost. Fathers, brothers and sisters, children and lovers!" He said referring to the five hundred men traded with the life of the courageous Core "Let's hug them tightly, because the shadow of Rome hangs over us. We will meet our destiny together. Whatever it takes! But in the meantime we will not forget those who were snatched from our arms. The men and women who sacrificed their lives so that everyone could live free!" He said handing a torch to Naevia, whose face was streaked with tears.

"For Crixus!" She said lifting it up in the air, before setting it on fire at the same time as Milo who lit the pyre of her beloved, saying in a loud voice "For Cassia!".

"For Sura! For Varro and for Mira!" Spartacus cried out so that everyone could hear him and remember those fallen brothers.

"For Oenomaus!" Gannicus said aloud, spelling out the name.

"For Narwain!" Hanna yelled "For Galdor!" Sara followed her without holding back her tears.

"For Thalion!" Thranduil said awakening the memory of that warrior who died during the journey.

"For Diotimo!" Sibyl said remembering the friend she had not been able to find.

Killed during the conquest of Sinuessa.

"For Rascos!" There were many fallen to remember "Per Sanus!".

"For Donar!" Lugo yelled paying homage to his friend.

"For Duro!" Agron cried in pain at the memory of his dear brother.

"For Acher!" "For Fortis!" "For Barca!" Hanna couldn't help but turn at that cry.

And who the hell was it to remember that gladiator, who died in the most anguished of silences ?!

"For Nemetes!" He had been a hothead, but still one of them.

"For Liscus!" "For Arcadio!" "For Mannus!" "For Prizius!" "For Drusus!" "For Crixus!" And the name of the indomitable Gallus filled the air as if to instill courage in the survivors.

Crixus ! Crixus! Crixus! Crixus! Crixus!

"May the skies tear apart at the sound of his name! May it reach Crassus and Pompeius! Like a thunderclap that heralds a bloodstorm! All those who are able will fight one last battle against Rome!" Cried the Thracian, turning the pain into anger.

Then he turned to his people "I make you a promise: we will live as free men or we will join our brothers in the afterlife!" Spartacus decreed remembering an ally, a friend, a brother ... who died gloriously in the name of freedom!


If the intent of the Romans was to destroy their fighting spirit, they would have been disappointed.

The rebels revived, driven by a desire for revenge and determination to save their loved ones.

Numerous villas were besieged and the provisions for the long journey were gathered.

But to avoid revealing his movements, aware that Crassus was aiming to deprive the rebels of his leadership, Spartacus ordered Gannicus, Lugo and Nasir to shout loudly in front of the survivors of the looting "I am Spartacus!" so as to conceal its exact location.

Six villas were attacked in just under three days and it would have been impossible for the Thracian to travel such distances in such a short time allowing the plan to work perfectly.

But despite the euphoria, the rebels were aware that soon, they would face the Romans in one last, great battle.

"You have amazed me many times with the tactics born from your delusional mind, but the latter beats them all!" Gannicus praised the Thracian as they strolled across the field.

"We pushed Pompeius north, but Crassus presses from the south with a multitude of men. Our only hope is to decide the battlefield!" Spartacus said ignoring the praises.

"And tying these branches together serves the purpose?" The Celt asked not fully understanding the other's thoughts.

"It will slow them down, so the others will escape the militias!" Spartacus answered.

"Let's wish it! Here I am, I want to offer my contribution to stop Crassus!" Agron was among those who had marched alongside Crissus against Rome.

The Romans had impaled him on a cross once he was taken prisoner. With Tiberius' life in danger he had been treated so that the terrible wounds did not become mortal.

But he was far from being completely healed and perhaps he would never be again!

"Take the sword, and let's see how it goes!" Spartacus patiently ordered him.

The German, though hesitantly, obeyed. But the hand, whose palm had been pierced by a nail causing irreparable damage, was unable to tighten the fingers around the handle and was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

The sword fell to the ground and was kicked by Agron out of pure anger "They took everything away from me!" He hissed in pain.

"You will have your rightful role in the battle. You will lead those who cannot fight to the mountains. Go back to help Nasir, and get ready to march!" Spartacus told him avoiding looking at him directly so that the other would not grasp the compassion that transpired from his eyes.

"Agron is more dead than alive, and yet he would give his life for your cause!" Gannicus realized when he saw the German go away.

"My cause? Don't you still consider it yours, then?" Spartacus asked surprised.

"I don't want to end up nailed to a cross, I'm not the martyr who gives his life so that others can live!" Stated the elf.

"Now rest. Warm up your heart before departure!" The Thracian dismissed it.


Thranduil was busy making numerous arrows with Milo and Atticus when Hanna approached.

She was alone and the two men understood that it was better to get away.

After a few moments of hesitation and seeing that the elf was completely ignoring her, Hanna decided to speak "As strong as I appear, I don't think I would be able to forgive myself if we parted with cold distance!".

Azrael looked up and slowly turned to her, intrigued.

"If you were to die in this fight, I would regret all my life my stubbornness and stupidity that pushed us away!" She confessed.

"I will not die!" Thranduil replied dryly.

"But there is a small chance! We are outnumbered and Spartacus himself has admitted that you will go down to the battlefield only to give the weakest time to escape!" Hanna said worriedly.

"I'm sorry!" She sighed "You were right, I wasn't strong enough!" She admitted, "When my daughter was taken from me, I put my blame on you! My anger...and I've said things I don't think!" she said sadly.

"Did you give Aranel to the Romans?" Thranduil's question looked very misplaced and Hanna found herself responding with "No, of course not!" With obvious confusion both in the voice and in the facial expression. "Then you are not to blame for what happened! Stop worrying!" He told her making her sit on his lap and wrapping her in a warm hug.

Hanna smiled, she missed him! Damn him if she missed him!

"I acted stupid! I should have stayed by your side instead of leaving you alone!" she admitted ashamed of his childish way of acting.

"No one would react well to the possibility of losing what is most precious to them!" Thranduil said sincerely.

"You have done it!" She pointed out "I too was afraid!" He confessed "But I didn't let her stop me! You may have fallen, but you got up stronger than before!" He told her before giving her a kiss.

"I hope you are right!" Hanna said smiling in front of so much trust and admiration.

From the elf they were always more than deserved!

"Always!" He replied "Feel what modesty you are! Aside from my bad humor, I wanted to ask you how the hell are we going to get to Middle-earth!" Hanna said voicing doubts that had haunted her since Barahir's death.

"That ogre excrement spoke of a cave! When you find it you will have no doubts!" He told her convinced. "And how the hell do I find it? By divine grace?" Hanna asked skeptically.

"It was the Valar who brought us together. I believe in them and I am sure they will lead us to it!" Thranduil said as he watched the mountains rise in the distance.

"And I believe in you! So try to get back from the battlefield because I don't think the elves of Darkwood will welcome me with open arms just thanks to some stories!" Hanna joked.

"It's Mirkwood!" He corrected her and she snorted back.

That's why he got on so well with Sara! Happy they headed for their tent, to enjoy what might have been, the last few hours together.

"It seems a lifetime ago, since I too could be in the arms of Crixus!" Naevia said seeing the two finally made peace, move away.

"They took everything away from us. But soon we will face the Roman militias...and I can assure you that they will pay their debt!" promised Spartacus, however, happy to see that that bad experience had done nothing but strengthen the bond between Azrael and Hanna.


Aranel slept peacefully in his father's arms who for the first time wondered if it was right to go into battle, risking abandoning them to themselves.

He roused himself remembering that Hanna and Sara were smart women and fearsome warriors, no one could have protected Aranel better than them.

Thranduil laid his daughter on some warm furs and went to the other side of the tent to get something that could have made a difference.

From a dirty cloth bag he pulled out a small testimony of his past life.

The last of his rings, the only one that the Romans had not managed to steal from him in order to destroy it in the fire along with the corpses of his fallen comrades and which he had kept as the most precious of secrets.

With the birth of Aranel he realized that it was the only testimony of their bond and his legitimacy to seek asylum in Mirkwood.

He was protected by a powerful spell: if he hadn't been the one to deliver it, the person who took it from him would have been killed by his ancient power.

It had belonged to her father and she was grieving at the thought of having to part with it, but if Hanna could get back to Middle-earth, she could have raised their daughter safely among the elves.

Hanna and Sara came back laughing happily.

Enjoying those last moments of peace.

"Have you heard the news?" Sara asked happily.

The elf's questioning look was a sufficient answer "Ariadne is pregnant!" She said as if she had been expecting a child.

"Soon we will see a small Atticus running with Aranel!" He imagined Hanna happy.

"Atticus 2! No, the second!" Sara didn't seem to understand what she was saying either.

"Yeah ... revenge!" Hanna joked.

Thranduil decided it was time to face the conversation and handed his partner his ring.

"And where did you get this?" She asked in amazement, not refraining from looking at him with admiration but walking away as if she didn't feel worthy of just touching him.

"Is that one of your rings?" Sara asked.

The elf was not too surprised, they knew too much about his world.

"It belonged to my father Oropher. A spell protects him, no one will be able to suspect that you stole it from me, with this Legolas will let you enter Mirkwood!" He explained resolutely.

"Here ... talking about this! We ... according to your traditions, we are not married!" It was funny to see that, for the first time, Hanna really cared about something she had ignored for years.

"Aranel is an illegitimate daughter..." Sara said worried.

"She will never sit his throne, but he will live among his people and you will be safe!" Thranduil assured them.

"If Legolas treats her badly, I'll take care of it!" Sara said enthusiastically, he was sure, would fade once in front of Legolas.

However, that statement led him to reflect on an eventuality never taken into consideration.

"Everything good? Remember you faced a dragon! A handful of humans shouldn't be a problem!" She tried to ease the tension Hanna.

"You better go to Rivendell first!" Azrael thought aloud.

"But ... and Mirkwood?" Sara asked disappointed.

"In case you perish, get ready for the grudge that Legolas will certainly bring you. Elrond will protect you and thanks to him you can see if Mirkwood is safe!" Thranduil explained in hopes of being heard.

"Why? What could he possibly do about it? " Hanna asked defiantly.

"Lock yourself up in the dungeons for eternity!" Thranduil replied, rolling his eyes, but smiling at a character he had come to appreciate.

"It's really a long time! ... You should think about it first!" Sara joked, not worried.

"Why do you think that?" Hanna asked curiously.

She wouldn't let herself be intimidated by an Elven prince, not after she had stood up to her father for many years!

"Because that's what I'd do!" The sincere elf replied.

"Then it's really a family vice!" Sara commented.

"Don't ... you don't seem worried about dying!" Hanna completely changed the subject!

"I've lived a long time and I'm ready! I will pray to the Valar that Legolas may understand my sacrifice and accept you in case of my untimely departure!" Thranduil answered sincerely.

He was a creature who aimed for eternity found himself having to deal with what he should never have thought about!

"I do not want to lose you!" Hanna said, barely holding back her tears.

"Not gonna happen. I will continue to live in your memories and in our children!" He whispered, hugging her softly.

"I will do everything possible to return! I love you!" Thranduil was sincere.

Hanna and Sara had taught him a lot.

Those years of wars and deaths had been the most beautiful, long and at the same time short, of his very long life.

He had learned to live enjoying every moment and looking at the world with the ingenuity of a child, especially when he had been their pupil both in the kitchen and with other chores.

Hanna had helped him overcome the darkness that would undoubtedly take possession of his body after so much suffering.

For years he had kept cold distances from the world, even from his son.

She had broken those barriers by making him feel loved, giving him a second chance to be a better father. Thanks to her he had fought for what was right.

For those he loved he had thrown himself into the fray instead of being indifferent to a war between people that after a few decades, would have died if not by sword, of natural causes.

He had learned to value the smallest form of life which, despite everything, remains great for anyone who lives it.

And the hatred for the Romans was lessened thanks to his smile.

Hanna held no grudge for her daughter's abduction and strangely neither did he, the past didn't matter now that Aranel was in their arms.

And Thranduil had learned to appreciate that complicity that bound the rebels, their ways so crude and different from those of his people but which secretly were proof of the deep feelings present among the brothers who, out of pride, they would never have spoken out.

The rebels, apparently driven only by hatred, had managed to give him the greatest of teachings: that a life is not measured in years, but in loving without measure!

And Aranel had been that hope that would never wither, for those human masters in being able to live so little but intensely.


After a short time Spartacus made his way to his partner more than determined to convince her to go. "Once on the march, split into two groups! You will have a better chance of escaping Pompeius!" He told her once he reached her.

"I would be much more reassured if you were to guide us!" He confided to Leta whose uncertainty could be seen in her every move.

"Crassus must be stopped, so that you and the others can get away!" Said the determined Thracian.

"We will wait for you there, at the foot of the mountains!" She decreed.

"It's better not, I don't want to!" Spartacus insisted.

"I'm free ... to make my choices!" She protested.

"You remind me all too often! But you mustn't risk your life, in the hope that I don't lose mine!" The Thracian said with a smile. She was a tenacious woman.

"I know you will not fall in battle with Crassus!" She confessed, although it seemed more like a wish.

"Can you see beyond the veil of uncertainty about the future?" Spartacus asked, heartened by the confidence shown.

"I trust a man who is like no other!" She flattered him sincerely, believing what he said.

"Thank you, for your words. And for the great comfort of your presence!" He said before exchanging a quick kiss and then heading to organize the departure.

Speed was of the essence if he wanted to give his men any chance.

"Do you know what your task is?" Spartacus asked Agron to see if he did his own thing.

"Today as never before, Nasir and I will not march with the others to the mountains!" Unfortunately unsuccessful.

"We have already addressed this topic. You can't fight..." the Trace tried again to dissuade him "Yes, there is a way, forged by loving hands!" Being interrupted by an unexpected statement by Nasir who showed a shield in which a sword was set.

Perfect for both defending and attacking and if attached to the arm, the hand could not have lost its grip! "You can't ask me to get out of the battle!" Agron imposed himself.

"I have had to witness the fall of many of my brothers. You are one of the last ones left! You who were with me when we destroyed the Batiatus house. You, you honor me ... Remaining at the very side in the final conflict!" Eventually Spartacus surrendered.

He had always fought for freedom of choice and could not go against his ideals even if it meant losing a friend.

"They are ready to go!" Naevia approached him with a satisfied air.

She had opened her eyes too, putting the well-being of others before her desire for revenge, clouded by a veil of pain that would never disappear.

Spartacus nodded and turned to the slaves gathered in front of him with the few personal belongings he possessed and some provisions for the trip in their hands.

"My friends ... the time has come to part. You will all be in our thoughts when we face the legions of Crassus. Many of us will fall. There is no tactic or strategy that can alter an ineluctable fate. But remember that our blood will give all of you the opportunity to reach the mountains, sheltered from the jaws of Rome that inflicted only pain and death on us!" Spartacus said happy to have managed to free those few who stood in front of him and sad at the thought of those he would lead to a certain end!

"Let's separate, and be free!" He screamed trying to contain the emotion felt.

He would not have wanted to part with those he regarded as a family, like his people!

But he had to do it! For the greater good!

"I am grateful to you for everything you have done for us!" A slave said to him, approaching him and shaking his hand with her eyes full of gratitude.

"Thanks bro!" Another said.

"You saved us!" Someone in the crowd yelled.

And soon after, the others lined up to greet their savior in person.

He who first opposed the Romans and managed to convince and unite many men under his command. "Thanks Spartacus!" "We owe you our life!" "We will not forget you!".

But that moment was interrupted by reminding them of the urgency of leaving.

"Spartacus!" Azrael came to a gallop stopping the horse not far from the Thracian.

"We were spotted by a Roman avant-garde!" Atticus said he was behind the elf.

"Have you seen their emblem?" Spartacus asked, praying it wasn't Pompeius.

"They had a bull on their chest!" Tigris replied making the Thracian leave a sigh he was not aware he had been holding.

"Crassus!" Naevia said knowing that that emblem belonged to their sworn enemy.

"It's time for glory!" Lugo stated that he is not at all afraid of dying.

"Get on the road. And don't look back! Go!" ordered Spartacus and the multitude of slaves obeyed without saying a word and with sadness in their hearts they began the journey that would lead them to the mountains.

"We didn't always get along well..." Hanna said to Naevia "...but we won't forget you!" she promised trying not to be moved.

"I will kill the Romans for you too! I wish you a happy life!" Naevia answered stroking Aranel's chubby cheek who hid her face in her mother's hair.

"You were one of our first friends! Together we have faced numerous battles, forgive us if we don't follow you in this one!" Sara said aware that maybe they were the last words they exchanged.

"Only if you protect this precious treasure and teach it how a head comes off!" Naevia didn't seem to be joking ...

"On the first I give you my word...on the second I don't know..." Hanna answered uncertainly.

"We will do our best, we promise!" Sara promised with a wink.

"I will pray to the gods. I will invoke the fall of Crassus and the triumph of the great Spartacus!" Leta greeted Spartacus trying to encourage him and be brave to the last.

"I've had enough of words, tears and goodbyes. I want to see the blood, hear the cries of the enemy!" Gannicus said shaking off all that sadness.

Of course if he was going to die, he preferred to do it to protect those he loved instead of being killed as he fled for his life!


The two sides were facing each other.

Azrael had a complete view of the Roman army from the back of Aegnor who was fidgeting nervously.

A Roman on horseback advanced towards them.

"Launch!" Spartacus ordered.

The Roman's horse reared as soon as the weapon stuck on the ground in front of him.

"I'm not looking for a fight. I have a message from Emperor Crassus!" Said the knight with evident fear that showed in his trembling voice.

"Speaks! And pray to your gods that the message is important!" Growled Spartacus who in the meantime had taken another spear in his hand ready to kill him.

Much to everyone's surprise, the rain-bringer walked away from the battlefield, followed by his generals. They reached a hill overlooking the plain where the two armies were, finally being able to talk face to face with the archenemy.

"Have you ever seen anything like it? So many hearts reaching out to an inevitable end!" Crassus asked before turning around.

"Why did you send for Crassus !?" Spartacus was in no mood for conversation.

"The reason is the same why you are here!" The emperor replied, turning abruptly to study the elf "Curiosity!" The emperor observed the elf greedily.

He was not the animal described in the stories he heard when he was a child, but a sharp and implacable person, he could read it in those eyes as fierce and deep as the sea.

"Curiosity that you have satisfied?" The Thracian asked irritably when the Roman began to observe him too carefully.

"We have been chasing each other for several months. An effort cost both of us deep wounds! But we never spoke!" Crassus spoke as if he were addressing an old friend he hadn't seen for some time.

"At this point talking is not needed!" Spartacus growled, not at all influenced by the man's good manners. "Maybe you are right!" Crassus drew his sword "Nevertheless I want to do it!" Gannicus, Azrael and the others reacted by putting themselves in a defensive position, but they felt bewildered when the Roman handed it to his second in command.

"Let us!" He ordered surprising everyone once again.

"Emperor!" Caesar hesitated in the face of that order.

"Do as I told you!" Crassus shouted, not taking his eyes off Spartacus.

A nod of the head was enough for the Thracian and his men obediently walked away.

"It is a fact that you are not in a position to win this conflict!" The Crassus speech began.

"You're not the first to believe it. The other Romans I sent to the afterlife also said the same thing!" Spartacus contradicted him with a note of satisfaction in his voice.

"My son with them!" Crassus growled feeling that dull pain awaken.

"Emperor forgive if I do not feel any regret for the death of the soldier who took the life of Crixus!" Spartacus answered him.

"The Gaul fell on the battlefield! Honor that was denied to Tiberius!" Crassus further protested.

"I didn't give the order to kill him! But the woman had been hit hard by your heir! His heart was begging for revenge!" The calm trace replied.

"While mine bleeds in the memory of my son! And yours of a bride who was taken from you!" Crassus said touching a still open and bleeding wound.

"Our losses are in no way comparable!" Spartacus growled.

"Your son was fighting for the Republic! That same Republic that snatched my innocent woman from her land, condemning her to slavery and death!" It reminded him.

"And now thousands will follow, by virtue of your insane plan!" Crassus accused him.

"Whatever their fate. It will be the result of a free choice!" Spartacus pointed out with pride "We decide our fate. Not you, or the Roman legions...and not even your gods!" He said exposing his thoughts. "Choose only the place and time of your defeat!" The Roman answered him.

"Much better to die in battle than to live with a chain around your neck!" Spartacus countered.

"And that would ease the pain of the wound? If the rain-bearer performed the miracle and defeated Crassus and his legions, would he leave the Republic alone? I pay to have done justice to the slaves who died at the hands of the Romans!" The curious emperor asked.

"There is no justice ... not in this world!" Spartacus admitted.

"After all ... we agree on one thing!" Crassus said finally, turning to him and holding out his hand as a sign of respect.

"Next time, know that I will kill you!" The rain-bearer threatened him.

"No, let's say you'll try!" The emperor laughed.

"Isn't that what free men do?" Spartacus asked eager to clash with him on the battlefield.


With the sunrise their destinies would be decided.

Azrael and Gannicus entered Spartacus' tent noting that he too had been an early riser.

"It is a great responsibility to be one step away from the end of the war and weigh the costs!" Gannicus began to speak.

"Don't you think Crassus can be defeated?" Spartacus asked as if to remove a doubt.

"One of your many talents is to achieve the impossible, I would undoubtedly bet on you in the final battle ….however...the predictions do not favor you!" The Celt replied.

"No, I agree!" Spartacus admitted acting calmly, facing certain imminent death.

"A cup could lift our spirits! But lately I've been trying to avoid!" Gannicus admitted.

"Notable event! I too had calmed my temper when I met the troubles of the heart!" The Thracian began to tell.

"Are you talking about your wife Sura?" Azrael asked curiously.

"The first time I slept with her, she told me how the gods sent her oracles through dreams. They had predicted that I would not love other women!" Unveiled Spartacus.

"And did the prophecy come true?" Gannicus asked eager to hear the answer.

"I found comfort at times! However, there is a void that can never be filled! A chasm that is where once the heart beat. When Sura was near me!" Spartacus confessed with his eyes clouded with pain.

"You too have lost your bride!" Gannicus said to the elf.

"I have spent centuries surviving thanks to his memory and the presence of my son. Hanna doesn't replace her, but with her I could feel my heart beating again!" Confided Azrael.

"It would be nice to feel those emotions again!" Spartacus admitted.

"One day you asked me to define victory. I was sure it was the death of the Romans!" He said changing the subject and turning his gaze to Gannicus.

"Do you think differently today?" He asked.

"Only life can be a victory! Not the death of the Romans, ours or that of those who fight with us, but the life of Sibyl, of Leta, Hanna, Sara, of the weak! All of them are Surahs. And I want them to live!" He said determined.

"Cause that even I share!" He recognized Gannicus.

"If we want to give others hope against Crassus it is not enough for you to share it. You must have a role!" Said the Thracian and Azrael found himself agreeing.

"Old Spartacus question!" The Celt replied throwing a dirty look at the elf.

Was he getting into it now too?

"That now or never must be fixed! I can't do it if you don't take on a proper role! That nobody here deserves more than you!" Spartacus decreed.

"What do you want me to do?" Eventually Gannicus gave up, acknowledging that his friend was right.

"The impossible!" Spartacus answered.


Sara fidgeted in the blankets. Sleeping was out of the question!

But the body needed rest, so she had stretched out inside the tent.

"God, it's the longest night of my life!" She screamed and then closed her mouth, remembering that Aranel was not worried as her father was often absent for a few days, in battle or reconnaissance and slept blissfully between her and Hanna.

The latter had given her a dirty look, but her immediate reaction made her understand that she was in her own painful condition.

Ariadne, on the other hand, was sleeping deeply destroyed by the ordeal that Cassia's agony had caused her.

Felix snored, but she wasn't surprised, that boy would have been able to sleep even on the battlefield while the fighting raged.

But their life did not end by abandoning the Republic!

It was painful, but the deaths of Milo, Atticus, Thranduil, Gannicus and most likely Spartacus did not have to clip their wings.

The possibility of any of them returning was negligible, but that little hope persisted and had given them the strength to behave normally.

If so, their loss would have been devastating, but the thought that they had done it for them moved her and made her feel compelled to live to the full so as not to waste that second opportunity, paid for and so generously offered.

Thranduil had been a dear friend he would never forget. Haughty and authoritarian, but attentive, cordial, courageous, sincere ... in short, irreplaceable!

Gandalf was right, as always: many of those who live deserve death and many of those who die deserve life. He would have bet and probably won that Crassus would get out alive!

Though on reflection, it would have been central to the story!

Only in this way would the Rome that she knew would be created. And then the numerous films she had seen had taught her that changing history would only lead to dire consequences.

Even if he would have preferred the opposite, Crassus had to live, to make that famous agreement that went down in history as the first Triumvirate.

Sara opened a drawing she had made a few months earlier which portrayed them all together.

She, Hanna, Aranel, Thranduil, Milo, Cassia, Atticus, Ariadne, Proximo, Felix, Hagen and Tigris.

She smiled, they had been happy months even though they had been at war with the Romans.

Perhaps he was disrespectful to those he would never see again, but Sara was already thinking and creating a thousand fantasies and stories about their next adventure that they would once experience in Middle-earth!


The time had come.

"But there are so many!" Not all rebels were able to mask fear.

"Like when Crisso left this life!" Like Naevia who, despite everything, was impatient to fight.

When he met Crisso he hated fights, but now they were the thing he lived for!

"We are offered a great opportunity: to swim in an ocean of Roman blood!" Agron yelled, managing to instill a little courage in the most uncertain.

Spartacus stepped forward and spoke almost screaming, so that everyone could hear him "Soon, Crassus will issue the order and we will face his legions on the battlefield! We are facing a great power. The Republic that extends its shadow over the life of every man, every woman, and every child, condemning them to the darkness of slavery! Forced to sweat and suffer, just so the rich and powerful can grow their fortunes far beyond their own needs!" He shouted before raising both swords "It is time for them to learn, that all human beings have the same value! And those who think they can trample other men's right to choose will be overwhelmed...by the cry of freedom!" The screams of the slaves made it clear that even if few, they would remain united until the end.

The sound of a horn preceded the advance of the first Roman legion.

"Forward!" Spartacus also gave the order and being all men without a horse, they ran towards the enemy euphoric.

"Advance, may the rebellion melt like snow in the sun!" Ordered Crassus comfortably seated on a horse placed centrally, among all his soldiers.

"Take position!" Spartacus shouted abruptly stopping the fast advance, shields were placed and spears raised.

The Romans, believing it was a moment of hesitation, ran towards them, drawing their swords.

"No!" "No!" "No!" The Thracian repeated itself to prevent some unwary from being overcome by anxiety by attacking ahead of time.

Milo stretched the bowstring and the arrow went off fast and lethal.

But not towards the throat of some Roman, but ready to sever a thin rope, visible only to the eyes of those who knew of his presence.

As soon as it was broken, the fragile equilibrium was broken, causing a deep chasm to open under the feet of the Romans, at the base of which numerous spears were placed to kill anyone who fell there.

"Archers! Now!" Spartacus screamed, seizing the moment of confusion and killing the soldiers who remained to observe the scene terrified, not thinking of raising the shields over their heads to protect themselves.

"The line-up we were waiting for!" Naevia said impatiently as soon as she saw them tortoise.

"Let's show them something unpredictable! Now!" Spartacus, aided by his followers, pulled out of a thin layer of sand, a long ramp created to be able to overcome the trap he had built himself.

The wooden constructions landed on the shields of the Romans, allowing the rebels to penetrate that formation believed to be invincible, overtaking the first who closed the passage.

Crassus showed the blind ambition of his people, ordering to fire with catapults also on his men, in order to kill the rebels.

"Do not suspend the advance, push forward!" Spartacus shouted as the first fireballs started killing his comrades.

Lugo was one of many to die burnt alive, but this pushed the survivors to advance, letting themselves be guided by a Czech fury born in seeing the brothers die in such a terrible way.

"Knights approaching! Dietrofront!" That cry made Spartacus raise his head and he smiled as he saw the help arrive at the appointed time.

Azrael, Atticus, Milo and Gannicus charged the Romans on horseback with numerous men.

Their plan was to get hold of the catapults and all other weapons capable of doing a lot of damage in a short time.

"You have to rotate the crossbows, fast!" Gannicus yelled as he jumped off his horse as Azrael covered him up to meet the first group of soldiers who came to stop them.

"Caesar, take command of the rear, do not panic!" Crassus ordered, seeing that the angel of death cut throats and heads as if they were flowers plucked from the lawn.

"It is better to back down!" A Roman general said as the ballistae opened fire on them.

"No, that's what they expect! Start the advance! " Crassus stopped him, determined to risk everything without running away like a coward.

Meanwhile, the Romans had managed to stop the rebels and the catapults became just objects to hide behind or to use as an impetus to jump over the heads of the Romans.

Azrael had left the horse, accustomed to hand-to-hand combat, he moved agile and lethal, in a kind of dance with his two swords that with each movement, severed a life.

Gannicus was fighting not far away and had to cover him when he saw him bend down to help Saxa, his first mate, wounded to death.

This distracted him enough to even notice Naevia struggling only when it was too late.

The young warrior had been brought to her knees by the traitor Caesar, whom she may have tried to face to avenge the death of her beloved.

Gannicus and Azrael had made their way among the numerous Roman soldiers who separated them from them and who were slowly exterminating the rebels thanks to numerical superiority.

They arrived just in time to see Naevia take her last breath, after being pierced by the traitor's sword. "Caesar!" Gannicus shouted full of anger challenging the Roman to a two-by-two clash.

"I was eager to face you in battle!" Caesar boldly said.

"I was anxious to cut off your head and feed it to the pigs!" Gannicus answered, waving his two swords.

But before the battle could begin, the Celt turned his head towards the elf "Go help Spartacus!" He ordered him and Azrael bowed his head in a silent greeting, turning and starting to make his way towards his target, killing anyone who stood in front of him.

Spartacus had run up a hill, following Crassus as he attempted a hasty retreat.

Azrael followed him widening his eyes with admiration when the Thracian managed to kill all ten Romans who separated him from the emperor.

Crassus was not afraid, but eager to compete in an even match.

The elf remained at a distance to be able to both intervene and stop any dangers coming from behind his friend.

Friend? He found himself snorting, those humans had softened him!

The emperor seemed no stranger to the gladiator's fighting style and even managed to land a blow, wounding the great leader in the side. In response, Spartacus opened a gash on his thigh.

After a first moment of fury, they both found themselves forced to stop to catch their breath.

They were exhausted, but being in the late stages of the fight, it wasn't their intention to give up.

During the last exchange Spartacus managed to disarm the enemy, who rolled backwards to gain a better position.

The Thracian sank his sword, but in the face of danger, Crassus stopped the blade with his bare hands just inches from his belly.

The surprise of the Thracian was used against him, and holding firm the painful grip, Crassus removed the weapon from the hands of the slave turning on himself to give strength to the blow.

It seemed like a game, because this time it was Spartacus who blocked the blade in the same way and the emperor looked at him confused and disappointed in the face of a victory that he believed he had in hand but that was not coming!

The confusion increased with a header from the Thracian that brought Crassus to his knees.

Spartacus had won! Azrael approached when she saw him hesitate to deliver the coup de grace.

Why did humans get lost in idleness at inopportune moments?

Both warriors were too exhausted to speak and the Thracian merely charged the killing blow.

The elf was surprised to notice that the powerful Crassus had resigned himself to die at the hands of the one he had sworn to destroy.

It was instinct that made him act and save their lives.

Thranduil whirled around, deflecting a large spear directed into his back with his sword, but a second one hit, sticking into Spartacus' chest!

Azrael ran against the Romans who came to the rescue of their emperor, diverting attention from the two warriors.

Crassus rose slowly, with a mocking smile on his face.

The gods had favored it!

He slowly took the sword from the ground and turned to the Thracian kneeling in front of him, completely ignoring the angel of death who was exterminating his men.

He did not even have time to lift the weapon that a sound of hooves made him turn around before being run over by a large black horse running.

The emperor rolled down the hill, too weak to be able to stop.

The elf smiled in the direction of the faithful animal, who arrived just in time and was amazed to see Agron approaching his brother and gently lift him to his feet before Nasir helped him to hoist him on a horse. Azrael turned to the battlefield that stretched before his eyes, staring in pain and anger at the few surviving rebels surrounded by the Roman legions.

He clearly heard Caesar coming to the aid of Crassus and aware that he had no choice, he got on his horse spurring him to gallop fast to get away from a now lost war.


Many were taken prisoner and the Romans decided to give a powerful meaning to their death, without honor and glory!

Crucified rebel slaves began to be placed along the road that led to Rome, as a warning to all those who yearned for a life without the burning of the whip on their back. Gannicus was panting with pain.

The anger at not being able to kill the traitor Caesar kept him alert but he was aware that his end was near. In addition to the eagerness to meet his fallen brothers again, there was also bitterness at the thought of abandoning those who were still alive, mixed with happiness thinking that Sibyl and many others would join him because of the passage of time and not because of an early death at the hands of the Romans.

In the end he died in the glory of battle, not really since the Romans had proved ruthless in killing him, crucifying him and observing how life flowed from his body minute by minute.

But at least he had fought to the last! Spartacus would bring everyone to safety and Azrael could perhaps see the desire to return to his fellow men fulfilled!

Gannicus gave a cry full of pride, as if to let the enemy know that they would never really win, because it is impossible to kill an ideal!

That was the last time that the Celt's voice rang out in the world of the living, while Gannicus headed with his head held high on the shores of winter, not having to atone for any guilt or regret anything!

Atticus and Milo had also found themselves together when the chains were again tightened on the wrists and ankles.

"Ariadne and my son will live free! I will have to wait a long time before I can welcome them...on the shores of winter! That's what I hope!" Atticus said that despite everything he felt happy with the knowledge that they had been saved.

"Azrael will take care of them!" Milo said looking towards the hill where their companions had disappeared "I'm just sorry not to be able to see little Aranel grow!" He confessed before the Romans began to drag him by weight.

He was made to lie down on the freshly cut wood, forcing him to extend his arms, holding them firmly, so that the nail could not move.

Milo began to gasp and clenched his jaw, staring at the hammer with hatred, intending not to make any sound.

But when the nail was pushed by the hammer, deep into his wrist, he screamed in agony surrendering to that immense pain.

Atticus was hoisted onto the pole next to his shortly after.

The street was adorned with thousands of crosses and the wind carried their screams to the gates of Rome. It took a long time for everyone to hang from the poles, the first ones had already expired.

"I'm dying as a free man!" Atticus screamed before surrendering completely to gravity.

Milo had lowered his head, exhausted. It was thanks to willpower that he managed to raise it when he heard the voices of Crassus and Caesar reaching and overcoming him.

Then he saw her. Cassia!

She stood in all her pride before him.

Beautiful as a goddess and happy as he had seen her many times, when they enjoyed each other's embrace.

"Together forever..." Milo whispered with a small smile that appeared on his lips "In this life or the next!" He said before expiring next to his brother.


As the surviving rebels caught up with the others in the mountains, the news spread even faster than it had ever happened and Hanna and Sara ran in the direction where the warriors knew were, fled in the face of a terrible defeat.

Aranel stood where she was as her mother set her down, confused by so much enthusiasm.

His Ada was just back!

Hanna and Sara hugged Thranduil with momentum, jumped on him and all three fell to the ground when he, both from the surprise and from the combined weight of the two, could not stand up.

The two girls laughed and cried, endlessly repeating the word "Thank you!".

The elf sat up and welcomed his daughter in his arms, who seemed somewhat lost as he looked at his mother as if he did not recognize her.

But their happiness did not last long as soon as Spartacus was placed on a blanket and some expert slaves began to medicate the serious wounds.

Seeing the Thracian in that state, Hanna roused herself from the trance she had fallen into and looked around, but among the very few returned warriors, she did not see those she sought.

Her eye fell on an Ariadne spinning in circles, hoping to spot someone in particular too.

Then their eyes met and almost at the same time they turned to Azrael.

The elf sighed and looked down and Hanna could see a single tear slide down his face for the first time, while a pincer gripped her heart as she realized the horrendous reality: Atticus, Milo and Gannicus were not there and would not be back. never again!

Ariadne dropped to her knees, placing both hands on her belly, holding back a cry of despair.

Sara was immediately beside her, crying with her.

Hanna was stopped from doing the same by Agron's voice who yelled "He's alert!" Referred to Spartacus. "We are in the mountains!" The German informed his brother who was looking around alert.

"We waited for you, as promised!" Leta said with tears in her eyes.

"Are they all safe?" The Thracian asked in a pained voice.

"Pompeius attacked the other group. Many have died!" Agron answered sincerely.

"We have to go or the Roman army will come upon us!" Leta remembered.

Agron and Nasir grabbed their friend by the arms, but his complaint made them give up immediately.

"No, I have to rest!" The rain-bringer stopped their second attempt.

"We can't stay here!" Agron tried to convince him.

"No! Go!" The Thracian admitted closing his eyes.

"Spartacus..." Leta whispered destroyed.

"Spartacus, she didn't call me that!...after all these years I will hear my real name spoken...from my beloved wife!" He said smiling happily.

Agron gave up, holding back his tears, realizing that there was nothing he could have done this time.

"Don't shed tears...there is no more glorious victory than leaving this world as a free man!" The Thracian seemed serene and Azrael approached him understanding what would soon happen.

It was to him that the rain-bearer turned "Azrael...guide them...protect them...I entrust them to you ...my friend!" Those were the last words of Spartacus, the slave whose name had made Rome tremble, given hope to those who believed they were lost and would never be forgotten.

Agron wept silently and closed his beloved brother's eyes.

"The day will come when Rome will be lost in oblivion, while you, you will live forever ... in the hearts of those who fight for freedom!" Agron gave Spartacus a small kiss on the forehead, a clear sign of the affection that bound him to the great leader and that he would never die.

Burning the body with all the honors would have risked having them discovered, so they decided to bury it. They were fast and, albeit sadly, they resumed the march as soon as the work was completed.

Towards evening, surprising everyone, the German turned to Azrael "I have always believed in Spartacus, I had entrusted my life to him!" He said sincerely "He had confided to me long ago, his certainty in leaving the command to you, in case of his departure!" He confessed and Thranduil's eyes widened in surprise, turning stoic in less than a second.

Agron knelt in front of the elf, imitated by Nasir, Hagen, Tigris, Felix and all the remaining warriors who, although few compared to before, remained numerous.

"I will respect his will and will always remain by your side on the battlefield. I will always follow you! I trusted Spartacus blindly and I'm sure he wasn't wrong about you!" Agron said and the others nodded in agreement.

"I am grateful to you for the trust you place in me! It is not my intention to disappoint you! I will help you find a place to call home...but once my promise is fulfilled, I will return to my people who have been missing for too long!" Thranduil said extending a hand to Agron.

The other warriors gasped as they heard him speak in their own language, but the German's calm calmed them almost immediately.

He smiled and grabbed her, being pulled to his feet "Thank you!" He whispered happily.

"You will only have to do it when we are safe!" Azrael picked it up and headed for Aegnor.

They had suffered heavy losses, but they would not give up on that!


And in the end I did it!

I have always cheered for the rebels and in the end, Spartacus managed to spare many the suffering inflicted by the Romans. Alt, stop, where are you going?

I know it's a sad chapter, I too suffered a lot from the deaths of Gannicus, Atticus and Milo! ...

But the story does not end here!

No, I have a lot of ideas on my mind!

Do you, dear readers, expect something in particular?

See you soon,

X-98