Spartacus: Blood And Sand -

Batiatus lunged. Pelorus, with the slow, economical grace of a man who had dodged death forty-seven times, sidestepped. He used his stump to hook Batiatus’s wrist and his good hand to drive the little whittling knife—the one he’d been sharpening for ten years—up under the lanista’s chin.

But that was the public tale. The truth, known only to a few, was different. spartacus: blood and sand

“You should not be here,” he said. His voice was gravel and rust. It was the first time he’d spoken to anyone in weeks. Batiatus lunged