Spartacus: Blood And Sand -

He heard the footsteps before he saw her. Sura. Spartacus’s wife. She had been brought to the ludus as leverage, a beautiful ghost haunting the edges. She couldn't sleep. She wandered into the equipment shed, looking for water.

Sura startled, clutching a rag to her chest. “I… I cannot find the well.” spartacus: blood and sand

As Batiatus gurgled and fell, Pelorus knelt beside him. “My father did not keep me alive as a lesson for the other gladiators,” he whispered. “He kept me alive because I knew where he buried the gold he stole from the previous champion. You never asked. You only saw a broken slave. That was your failing.” He heard the footsteps before he saw her

He walked calmly to Batiatus’s private study. The lanista was there, trembling, a dagger in his fat hand. She had been brought to the ludus as

“No,” Pelorus said, tossing the purse to Sura’s killer—he did not yet know she was dead. “I am the one who opens the gates.”

As Spartacus and the others fled into the night, Pelorus sat down on his stool one last time. He took out the olive wood he had been whittling. It was nearly finished: a small, crude figure of a woman, her face upturned. He set it on the ground, leaned his head against the cool stone wall of the gate he had guarded for a decade, and closed his one good eye.

“You?” Spartacus said, astonished. “The gatekeeper?”