It is a thing known, is it not, that you cannot win this conflict?
Sentiments shared by all the Romans I have killed who held such belief.
My son among them.
Apologies, Imperator, I cannot give voice to regret of passing to the soldier who robbed Crixus of life.
The Gaul died on the field of battle! An honor denied Tiberius!
It is not as I had commanded - yet the woman had been rudely treated by his hands, and her arm claimed vengeance.
As manner so moved in memory of my son, and yours towards wife no longer -
Do not think to place your loss upon equal footing! Your son took up arms for the Republic. The same one that tore my wife from grasp, and condemned her to slavery and death.
And now you would lead thousands to join her in futile attempt.
Whatever happens to my people, we decide it. We decide our fates, not you...not the Romans...not even the gods.
You but choose time and place of journey's end.
Better to fall by the sword than by the master's lash.
And will it balm festering wound? If the Bringer of Rain heralds miracle, and defeats Crassus and his legions, will he withdraw from the Republic, content that he's brought those who so injured him to justice?
There is no justice...not in this world.
At last...a thing we agree upon. [They shake hands.]
When we again meet, I will kill you.
No, you're going to try.
That is all a free man can do.
