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1.
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FADE IN:
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FLAME
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Out of the blackness a flame flickers to life. Into this
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warm light, pair of old and calloused hands bring a baby.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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When the boy was born, like all
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Spartans, he was inspected.
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The newborn is roughly turned and handled like a piece of
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fruit.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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If he had been small or puny or
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sickly or misshapen, he would have
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been discarded.
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From an unseen window a wind extinguishes the candle
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plunging us into darkness.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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From the time he could stand he was
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baptized in the fire of combat.
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A boy of three fights his father in mock battle with his
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mother looking on. They duel with wooden swords, but this
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is not a game. The boy's father knocks the sword out of the
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boy's hand with force, then pushes him to the ground. The
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boy grits his teeth, scrambles in the dusty ground for his
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sword, then rises ready to fight, his eyes wide and
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intense.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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Taught never to retreat, never to
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surrender ... Taught that death on
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the battlefield in service to
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Sparta was the greatest glory he
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could achieve in his life.
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The boy, now five, watches his father as he passes his hand
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across a three-foot bronze shield. His fingers gently
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tracing the dents and scars in the hammered metal.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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At age 7, as is customary in
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Sparta, the boy was taken from his
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mother and plunged into a world of
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violence.
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2.
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A woman cries, held by two other women. She weeps
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uncontrollably as her son is led away. Her body heaving as
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she watches him go.
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2 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 2
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A Spartan boy of maybe eight is beaten by another boy of
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the same age.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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Manufactured by 300 years of
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Spartan warrior society to create
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the finest soldiers the world has
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ever known, the Agoge, as it is
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called, forces the boy to fight ...
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Time slows: Blood sprays from his mouth as he is struck
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again and again and again.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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Starves them, forces them to steal
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and if necessary, to kill.
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The boy stands out of breath, his body gleaming with sweat.
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Blood drips from his fists.
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4 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 4
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A boy of eleven is tied at the wrists. His face pressed
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against a column as a handful of muscular, grim-faced
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soldiers watch. His back already bleeding as he is whipped
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again. His face is stone, emotionless.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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By rod and lash the boy was
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punished, taught to show no pain,
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taught to show no mercy.
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6 EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS - DUSK 6
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Blue light crouches on black rocks. Snow drifts, defying
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gravity. A hand, blistered by the cold, clamors and climbs.
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The hand belongs to the boy, now twelve.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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Constantly tested, tossed into the
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wild. Left to pit his wits and will
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against nature's fury.
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3.
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Though starving and freezing, there is a nobility in the
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boy's gaze. Though his body shakes, his homespun tunic no
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match for the bitter cold, he is defiant.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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He'd survived on roots, bugs and
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rodents, and now he was freezing to
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death. It was his initiation ...
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his time in the wild ... for he
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would return to his people a
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Spartan, or not at all.
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The boy stumbles into a clearing surrounded on three sides
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by the stone faces of the canyon. He stands, peering into
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the gathering din. He grips the spear, lightly moving it
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back and forth from hand to hand. The spear is little more
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than a child's toy, a sharpened stick. The boy's eyes
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search the tree line, the darkness moves ... shadow gliding
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on muscle and sinew.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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He hears a low growl. The hair on
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his arms stands up. Cold, hungry,
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defenseless. He is prey.
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It tracks the boy and he knows it.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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The wolf begins to circle the boy.
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Claws of black steel, fur as dark
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as night, eyes glowing red ...
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jewels from the pit of Hades
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itself.
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The WOLF breathes in misty clouds, the swirling snow
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printed against its black fur.
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GROWLING as it moves closer, circling, hunting.
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WE SEE: The boy from between a narrow cut in the rock, just
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large enough for him to squeeze through~ His eyes are calm.
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His body has stopped shaking. He sees the crack in the
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black stone, and turns slowly, almost casually, toward it.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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The giant wolf ... sniffing ...
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drooling ... savoring the scent of
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the meal to come. Does the boy run?
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Does he cower? Does he cry? No ...
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not this boy. He is calm.
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4.
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The beast pauses, loading to spring. The boy leaps through
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the cut in the rock. The WOLF pounces, HOWLING as it
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charges!
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Its jaws are inches from the boy's neck as he falls
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backward through the wound in the rock. The beast's body is
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stopped cold in the tight space. Thrashing, the wolf is
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pinned by the unforgiving stone. The boy rises slowly.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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It is not fear that grips him, only
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a heightened sense of things.
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The snow drifts around his feet.
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TIME SLOWS.
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The wolf's jaws GNASH! The boy exhales slowly.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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The cold air in his lungs. The
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leafless poplars moving against the
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coming night.
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His eyes look back toward the wolf, he nods his respect,
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then raises his spear.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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His hands are steady, his form
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perfect.
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The clouds part, and the just rising crescent moon, warm on
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the horizon, casts a shadow of the angry wolf on the cold
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rock. The boy sets himself, then strikes.
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7 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 7
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A Spartan helmet lands heavily in the snow-covered
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courtyard, followed by the thick-muscled frame of a
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SPARTANGENERAL, who, after going to his knees, bows his
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head to the snow. Standing before him is the boy, draped in
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the freshly dressed pelt of a black wolf. As others enter
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the courtyard, they too fall to their knees, SHOUTING!
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Spears are raised.
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CRIES of joy and reverence are heard as the boy raises his
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chin.
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DILIOS (V.O.)
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So the boy, given up for dead,
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returns to his people, to sacred
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Sparta, a King ...
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5.
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9 EXT. THE CAMPFIRES OF WAR - NIGHT 9
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Dozens of SPARTANHOPLITES sit and stand, transfixed by the
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agitated pacing Spartan whose fist is raised in dramatic
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punctuation. This is DILIOS (28), the storyteller. His
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gift. His curse. To conjure from his memory, from his
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imagining, that which men forgot, but need to remember.
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DILIOS
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... Our King! LEONIDAS!
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The men visible in the firelight, and countless others in
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the darkness beyond ...
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POUND their shields in unison and cry as one.
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SPARTANS
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LEONIDAS! LEONIDAS! LEONIDAS!
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A HUSH falls over the band of Spartan warriors, their faces
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hard, bodies oiled for war. All listen as Dilios pauses.
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His voice lowers.
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DILIOS
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It has been more than thirty years
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since the wolf and the winter cold,
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and now, as then, a beast
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approaches, patient, and confident,
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savoring the meal to come. But this
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beast is made of men and horses,
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swords and spears.
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Dilion scans his audience. The light from the fire moves
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across the capes of crimson and helmets of bronze. Dilion
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is a grim orator. His scarred and ruddy face bears witness
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to his own story.
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DILIOS
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It is an army of slaves, vast
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beyond imagining, ready to devour
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tiny Greece. Ready to snuff out the
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world's one hope for reason and
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justice.
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There is brewing anger in the eyes of his listeners. Dilios
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sets his gaze to the fire.
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DILIOS
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The beast approaches, and it was
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King Leonidas himself who provoked
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it.
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6.
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10 EXT. GREEK COUNTRYSIDE 10
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Colorful Persian BANNERSSNAP! Pulling taut in the wind. *
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The earth is overturned under the charge of the Company of
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War horses. ARCHERS, SWORDSMEN and SHADOWED FORMS.
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Riders all covered in thin patterned robes of gold and
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blue, embroidered silks, braided belts with long-shouldered
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capes flowing. Into the sunless dry scrub and wood where
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the path curves dark and cool they ride on ... They ride
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on!
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11 EXT. SPARTA 11
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No wall surrounds Sparta. The buildings have no flowered
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columns, no carved arches, no fluted gables, no recorded
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dates and wreathed tributes to the dead. No, this is
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Sparta. This is the simple elegance of an unadorned
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shelter.
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WE SEE: The mounted Persian column appear in the stillness
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of the morning. A massive black horse rears and drops its
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frame, dust curling around its hooves. A PERSIAN MESSENGER
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with scarred face and sharpened teeth of gold settles the
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horses. His 20 men-at-arms fill in along his side.
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MESSENGER
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I bring word from the Great Xerxes,
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Conqueror of all the world.
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The Spartan SENTRIES approach, slowly. One steps forward
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and sniffs the air, mocking the Persian force.
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SENTRY/FL
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Could we offer you a bath, Persian?
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WE HEAR: Laughter from the other Spartans standing nearby.
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SENTRYF/2
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I am sure our women have a perfume
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you'll find agreeable.
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The Persian Messenger pulls at the leather reins of his
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mount, sinking the bit into the horse's foaming mouth.
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MESSENGER
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Greek arrogance! It will be the
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death of you all. If it were not
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for diplomacy, I would rip the
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breath from your lungs.
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7.
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He turns the horse in a tight circle and looks out at the
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CITIZENS of Sparta who are milling about, Helot farmers,
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masons, women and children watch as the Messenger glares
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down at them.
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MESSENGER
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Show me your King.
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SENTRY #1
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Our King is a busy man.
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The Persian Messenger reaches into a waxed canvas bag that
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lays across the horse's neck.
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WE SEE: The jeweled crowns of conquered nations. The
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Messenger lifts at the rope running through the bone-white
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eye sockets of a half-dozen human skulls.
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MESSENGER
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These Kings were busy men once.
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The Messenger kicks at his horse, holding the skulls and
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royal headdresses for all to see.
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MESSENGER
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Be afraid. Sparta will burn to the
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ground. Only the word of King
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Leonidas can save it.
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12 EXT. SPARTAN GARDEN 12
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WE HEAR: The FLUTTER of HUMMINGBIRDS against the pale stone
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walls covered, thick and dark, with ivy and wild lilac.
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KING LEONIDAS (40), strong and lean, a king, a warrior, a
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father, rolls on the ground in simulated combat with his
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six-year-old boy, PLEISTARCHOS.
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LEONIDAS
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Remember, my son. The more you
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sweat here the less you will bleed
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in battle.
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The boy dives at his father, missing the King's legs.
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LEONIDAS
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Follow your instincts.
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Leonidas smiles.
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LEONIDAS
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Act without hesitation.
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8.
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Again the boy tackles and they tumble over each other into
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the soft grass.
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LEONIDAS
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Hesitation creates fear.
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They wrestle on ... continuing one of the ancient rituals
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of father and son.
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LEONIDAS
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Fear is always a constant. But
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accepting it will make you
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stronger.
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Leonidas spins and grabs the boy's leg, pulling him to the
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ground. Leonidas looks across the garden to see his wife,
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QUEENGORGO(28), with her athletic frame, watching the two
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of them.
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LEONIDAS
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In the end, a Spartan's true
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strength is the warriors next to
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him. Give respect and honor and it
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will be returned to you.
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Leonidas rolls the boy to his back.
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LEONIDAS
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First, you fight with your head.
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WE SEE: A Spartan, Leonidas' CAPTAIN (45), broad-shouldered
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and fiercely loyal, speaking to Gorgo near stone pillars of
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the compound.
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Pleistarchos arches, slips free and reverses to his
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father's back.
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GORGO
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Then you fight with your heart.
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Gorgo lifts Pleistarchos off of his father.
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LEONIDAS
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What is it?
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GORGO
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Your father has things to attend
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to.
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Leonidas rises to his feet.
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LEONIDAS
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(to Pleistarchos)
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9.
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Bring me my sword.
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The boy nods and goes.
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GORGO
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A Persian messenger awaits you.
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Pleistarchos returns with a simple short sword of iron, its
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handle inlaid carnelian and amber. Leonidas arms himself
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and leans down, kissing his son on the forehead.
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LEONIDAS
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Do not forgot today's lesson.
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PLEISTARCHOS
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Respect and honor.
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13 EXT. MARKETPLACE 13
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The Persians wait in the full heat of the sun, watched by
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Spartan guards. Free women and children pass the narrow
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streets, carrying electrum vases, all shapes and sizes of
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glass and terra-cotta water vessels.
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THERON, 36, a Spartan Councilman with noble features, a
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body of lean muscles and piercing eyes, retired from the
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battlefield for a life in politics, stands and speaks
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freely with the Messenger from the East as Leonidas and
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Gorgo approach.
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GORGO
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Councilman, you have found yourself
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needed, for once.
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Theron allows the comment to disappear into the sounds of
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the market.
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THERON
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My King and Queen, I was just
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entertaining your guests.
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LEONIDAS
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I am sure.
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Leonidas stands before the Persian Messenger.
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LEONIDAS
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10.
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Before you speak, Persian, know
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that in Sparta everyone, even a
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king's messenger, is held
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accountable for the words of his
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voice. Now, what message do you
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bring?
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The Messenger opens his great arms, palms to the azure sky.
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MESSENGER
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Earth and water!
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Leonidas narrows his eyes.
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LEONIDAS
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You rode all the way from Persia
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for earth and water?
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The Persian holds to his message studying the King's face.
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GORGO
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Do not be coy or stupid, Persian.
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You can afford neither in Sparta.
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The Persian turns to Gorgo, never having been spoken to by
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a woman in this tone.
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MESSENGER
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What makes this woman think she can
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speak among men?
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GORGO
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Because only Spartan women give
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birth to real men.
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The Persian must swallow his pride along with the insult
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before his men.
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LEONIDAS
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Let us walk to cool our tongues.
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Leonidas turns away, leaving the rest to follow the King's
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steps.
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MESSENGER
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If you value your lives over your
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complete annihilation, listen
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carefully, Leonidas. Xerxes
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conquers and controls everything
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that his eye rests upon.
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The Messenger throws a look to Gorgo and continues.
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11.
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MESSENGER
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He leads a force so massive it
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shakes the earth with its march.
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Its number so vast it drinks the
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rivers dry.
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The Spartan bodyguards watch the Persians carefully.
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MESSENGER
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All the God-King Xerxes requires is
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this, a simple offering of earth
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and water. A token of Sparta's
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submission to the will of Xerxes.
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Leonidas stops in his tracks ...
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LEONIDAS
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Submission ... ? That's a bit of a
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problem. Rumor has it the Athenians
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have already turned you down. And
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if those philosophers and boy
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lovers found that kind of nerve ...
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Theron moves forward.
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THERON
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We must be diplomatic.
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Leonidas raises his hand.
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LEONIDAS
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... And Spartans have their
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reputation to consider.
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MESSENGER
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Choose your next words carefully,
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Leonidas. They may be your last as
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king.
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Leonidas looks away from the Messenger's eyes and scans the
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Persian bodyguards, assessing their strength.
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TIME SLOWS for our King. He watches the freedoms of his
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people.
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WE HEAR: The sounds of CHILDREN'S LAUGHTER.
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The simple pure life each have built for themselves. The
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words "earth and water" form quietly on his lips. He looks
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to his Queen, mother of his child.
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TIME UNWRAPS
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12.
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As Leonidas stares at the Messenger.
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In one motion the King draws his sword, bringing it to the
|
|
Persian's neck:
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
Madman ... you're a madman!
|
|
|
|
The Spartan guards quickly follow their King and hold their
|
|
weapons to the Persian force before them.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Earth and water.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas begins to back the Persian messenger up towards a
|
|
deep open well.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You'll find plenty of both down
|
|
there.
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
No man, Persian or Greek, no man
|
|
threatens a messenger.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You bring the crowns and heads of
|
|
conquered kings to my city steps.
|
|
You insult my Queen. You threaten
|
|
my people with slavery and death.
|
|
I've chosen my words carefully,
|
|
Persian. I hear your message
|
|
clearly. It is that of a war party!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas touches his sword onto the dark flesh of the
|
|
Messenger.
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
This is blasphemy!
|
|
|
|
Theron raises his hands in a desperate attempt to stop
|
|
Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
This is madness.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas has the messenger's heels hanging above the void
|
|
of the well. The Persians eye the Spartans nervously.
|
|
13.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: The sword lowering from the Persian's neck. Theron
|
|
relaxes, thinking reason has prevailed. A warm wind plays
|
|
against the King's robe. Leonidas looks at Gorgo, she nods,
|
|
knowing full well what that nod brings to her King and
|
|
Sparta. And with one great push against the Persian's chest
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Madness? This is Sparta!
|
|
|
|
The Messenger's body falls away ... deep ... deep into the
|
|
circular chasm. Theron steps back as the Spartan men
|
|
unleash their savagery. Persian after Persian follows the
|
|
first, resting where even their faint cries for mercy
|
|
cannot be heard.
|
|
|
|
|
|
14 EXT. A ROCKYCLIFF ABOVE SPARTA - NIGHT 14
|
|
|
|
Lit by the almost full moon, Leonidas climbs hard, with
|
|
clenched teeth, the steep rock face inaccessible to most.
|
|
|
|
A foot slips. Rocks come loose. His grip tightens and he
|
|
climbs on, finally pulling himself and his sixty-pound
|
|
leather satchel onto a small ledge where a cloaked figure
|
|
stands.
|
|
|
|
The WIND pushes and pulls the torchlight this way and that.
|
|
This is an EPHOR, a priest of the old gods, deformed by
|
|
breeding. His face and body are covered with boils and
|
|
lesions. His eyes are bleached white under the hoods of
|
|
black.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The Ephors. Priests to the Old
|
|
Gods, inbred swine, more creature
|
|
than man. Creatures whom even a
|
|
king must bribe ... and bed.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #1
|
|
Welcome, Leonidas. We have been
|
|
expecting you.
|
|
|
|
The FIRE ROARS in protest at the end of the torch. The
|
|
Ephor turns and begins to climb an impossible set of stairs
|
|
hewn out of the rock of the mountain. Leonidas shoulders
|
|
the satchel and starts after his ungracious host up the
|
|
stairs, which circle around a finger of rock toward a
|
|
simple stone temple that glows at the summit.
|
|
|
|
|
|
15 INT. EPHORS' TEMPLE - NIGHT 15
|
|
14.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Oil lanterns cast a warm light on EIGHT EPHORS, all as
|
|
decrepit as their brother, who stand around Leonidas as he
|
|
hastily lays out his plan. At the center of the temple is a
|
|
low stone box filled with fine sand used by the Ephors to
|
|
sketch down that which is fleeting to man and even more
|
|
fleeting to the Gods. Leonidas pulls a wooden block across
|
|
the sand to smooth its surface.
|
|
|
|
Then, with his finger, he begins to draw.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
The Persians claim their forces
|
|
number in the millions. I hope, for
|
|
our sake, they exaggerate.
|
|
|
|
One of the Ephors interrupts the King, his arms crossed,
|
|
his blistered face stern.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #2
|
|
You insult the Gods with your
|
|
arrogance, Leonidas. We are not a
|
|
council of men. We serve the Gods,
|
|
not the whim of a King. Before your
|
|
plan is heard, what do you offer?
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is mid-line, drawing his battle plan in the sand.
|
|
He looks up at the hooded figures. He lifts a finger slowly
|
|
from the sand. He ducks the leather strap of his satchel
|
|
and tosses it at the feet of the Ephors.
|
|
|
|
The gold spills out onto the stone floor.
|
|
|
|
Dipping his finger back into the sand, Leonidas sketches a
|
|
primitive map.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
We will use our superior fighting
|
|
skills and the terrain of Greece
|
|
herself to destroy them. We will
|
|
march North to the coast. I will
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #1
|
|
It is August, Leonidas. The full
|
|
moon approaches.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #2
|
|
The sacred and ancient festival.
|
|
Sparta wages no war at the time of
|
|
the Carneia.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is desperate, almost angry. He searches the dead
|
|
eyes of the Ephors.
|
|
15.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Sparta will burn! Her men will die
|
|
at arms, and her women and children
|
|
will be slaves or worse. This is
|
|
not a campaign for land riches. It
|
|
is a fight for our very lives!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas plunges his finger back into the sand and draws a
|
|
line running perpendicular to his line representing the
|
|
coast.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
We will block the Persian coastal
|
|
assault by replacing the great
|
|
stone wall, built by the Phocians
|
|
to protect Greece two hundred years
|
|
ago, and funnel them into the
|
|
mountain pass we call the Hot
|
|
Gates.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas holds his hands up in front of his face as if they
|
|
are the Hot Gates themselves.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
In that narrow corridor their
|
|
numbers will count for nothing.
|
|
|
|
The King pounds his fist into his open hand.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Xerxes' losses will be so great,
|
|
his men so demoralized, he will
|
|
have no choice but to abandon his
|
|
campaign.
|
|
|
|
The Ephors move uneasily, looking back and forth between
|
|
each other. Leonidas is mystified by their silence.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #1
|
|
We must consult the Oracle. Trust
|
|
the Gods, Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
I'd prefer you trust your reason.
|
|
|
|
The Ephor snaps back at Leonidas, pointing a misshapen
|
|
finger at the kneeling King.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #1
|
|
Your blasphemies have cost us quite
|
|
enough already. Don't compound
|
|
them. We will consult the oracle.
|
|
16.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Ephors turn away. Leonidas follows them. Carved into
|
|
the stone, under a domed ceiling, is an altar. It is a
|
|
stage fashioned to look like the hand of a God. In its
|
|
palm, a beautiful YOUNGGIRL moves hypnotically.
|
|
|
|
Around the altar the Ephors stoke small fires which burn
|
|
green with the smell of sulfur, careful not to breathe the
|
|
smoke themselves, they retreat to the shadows.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Diseased old mystics ... worthless
|
|
remnants of a time before Sparta's
|
|
ascent from darkness ... remnants
|
|
of a senseless tradition. Tradition
|
|
even Leonidas cannot defy, for he
|
|
must respect the word of the
|
|
Ephors. That is the law.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas watches as the vapors engulf the girl. She begins
|
|
to shake and convulse, her body thinly veiled by the
|
|
sheerest of fabric. The firelight behind her reveals the
|
|
beauty of her form and the tragedy of her plight.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... And no Spartan, subject or
|
|
citizen, man or woman, slave or
|
|
King, is above the law.
|
|
|
|
Then, through the darkness --
|
|
|
|
DRUMS! The girl's eyes roll back. Her body heaves and
|
|
writhes. She moans and drools, her hips thrusting, her
|
|
chest heaving. She
|
|
|
|
CRIES! Through her pleasure and pain. The beating of the
|
|
drums quicken, as does the violence of her rapture.
|
|
|
|
Her veil clings to her sweaty form until finally she CRIES
|
|
out!
|
|
|
|
DRUMS stop, and she collapses. After a moment, the Ephors
|
|
run in extinguishing the fires. One of the Ephors leans
|
|
close to the Oracle as another pulls a wooden block across
|
|
the sand, erasing the King's plan.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The Ephors choose only the most
|
|
beautiful Spartan girls to live
|
|
among them as Oracles. Their beauty
|
|
is their curse, for the old
|
|
wretches have the needs of men ...
|
|
and souls as black as hell.
|
|
17.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Her breathing is shallow. The old Ephor can't resist
|
|
letting his tongue lick across the Oracle's neck, tasting
|
|
her salty skin, before he turns his deformed ear to her
|
|
mouth, which whispers in trance. As he listens, he speaks
|
|
in an ancient language spoken only by Ephors. She speaks as
|
|
he translates.
|
|
|
|
EPHOR #1
|
|
Pray to the winds. Sparta will
|
|
fall. All Greece will fall. Trust
|
|
not in men. Honor the Gods. Honor
|
|
the Carneia.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas shows nothing. A WIND HOWLS through the columns of
|
|
the open temple. He looks into the faces of the Ephors,
|
|
then turns into the darkness and is gone.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The King's climb down is harder.
|
|
Pompous inbred swine ... worthless,
|
|
diseased, rotten ...
|
|
|
|
|
|
16 INT. THE EPHORS' TEMPLE - MOMENTS LATER 16
|
|
|
|
Gold falls in showers. Printed onto the coins is the
|
|
likeness of a Persian God or man.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... corrupt ...
|
|
|
|
The Ephors kneel, running their hands through the great
|
|
pile of gold. Standing in the firelight, is Theron. At his
|
|
side, a large PERSIAN, his body crisscrossed with chains
|
|
and giant locks of ancient iron, tosses a handful of gold
|
|
onto the pile.
|
|
|
|
Theron turns to the Persian.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Leonidas will not march. The word
|
|
of the Oracle is final.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN
|
|
What of your Spartan Council? Could
|
|
they not vote to ignore these
|
|
mystics' words.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
18.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The members of that Council are as
|
|
superstitious as they are old. Your
|
|
gold is well spent. When I am made
|
|
ruler or all Greece and Sparta is
|
|
its capital, her people and armies
|
|
will serve the God King well.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN
|
|
You have only to remove the Spartan
|
|
Queen and its heir for your plan to
|
|
be complete.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You need not instruct me in the
|
|
course of my own treachery. This
|
|
plan was born long before Xerxes
|
|
turned his eye to Greece. It rose
|
|
from my hatred of Leonidas'
|
|
measured judgment ... It rose from
|
|
my envy of his skill in battle ...
|
|
It rose from my lust for the warmth
|
|
of his young bride. All the hate in
|
|
my soul will find itself manifested
|
|
on his house, and his victories,
|
|
his love, his freedom, his very
|
|
blood will lie in ruin at my feet.
|
|
|
|
Theron turns to the Ephors.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
This is but a token. Great Xerxes
|
|
gives his thanks, oh wise and holy
|
|
men. You are truly in the God
|
|
King's favor now.
|
|
|
|
The Persian smiles, his face adorned with gold piercings,
|
|
his eyes pale blue.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN
|
|
Yes, for when Sparta burns, you
|
|
will bathe in gold. Fresh oracles
|
|
will be delivered to you daily,
|
|
from every corner of the empire.
|
|
|
|
|
|
17 INT. LEONIDAS' BEDCHAMBER - NIGHT 17
|
|
|
|
The waxing gibbous moon shines onto the stone floor of the
|
|
King's bedroom.
|
|
|
|
It is a second-story room overlooking a small courtyard.
|
|
Beyond that, edged by moonlight, the roofs and houses of
|
|
sleeping Sparta.
|
|
19.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas leans of the frame of his balcony doorway, unable
|
|
to sleep.
|
|
|
|
After a moment he sighs and moves to his bed, where his
|
|
wife Gorgo sleeps soundly, the sheet down to her waist,
|
|
revealing her strong feminine back, which shines with the
|
|
warmth of August. Leonidas sits at the edge of the bed and
|
|
lightly traces his finger along the contours of her body.
|
|
She stirs, and now, sleepily, she stares up at him.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Your lips can finish what your
|
|
fingers have started ... Or has the
|
|
Oracle robbed you of your desire as
|
|
well?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
It would take more than words of a
|
|
drunken adolescent girl to rob me
|
|
of my desire for you.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo smiles. The curls of her black hair fall softly
|
|
across her neck and collarbone.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Then why so distant?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Because it seems, though a slave
|
|
and captive of lecherous old men,
|
|
the Oracle's words could set fire
|
|
to all that I love.
|
|
|
|
She reaches up to him, laying her hand to the side of his
|
|
face.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
So that is why my King loses sleep
|
|
and is forced from the warmth of
|
|
his bed.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo furrows her brow in mock concern.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
There's only one woman's words that
|
|
should affect the mood of my
|
|
husband ... and those are mine.
|
|
|
|
He smiles, if only briefly. He is in pain and she can see
|
|
it.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
20.
|
|
|
|
|
|
What must a King do to save his
|
|
world, when the very laws he has
|
|
sworn to protect, force him to do
|
|
nothing?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo sits up. She is tender, yet intense. She looks into
|
|
his eyes for a moment, then her expression softens.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
It is not a question of what a
|
|
Spartan citizen should do, nor a
|
|
husband, nor a King. Instead ask
|
|
yourself, my dearest love, what
|
|
should a free man do?
|
|
|
|
He looks at her. They are close. The moment stretches and
|
|
he smiles. They kiss and fall back onto the bed. This is
|
|
love between a Spartan King and his Queen. Their skin is
|
|
wet. Their mouths hunger. Their muscles flex. It is not
|
|
soft. It is passion personified. They love as they live.
|
|
|
|
|
|
19 EXT. SPARTAN BARRACKS 19
|
|
|
|
The sky is pale and clear to the east as 300 Spartans hold
|
|
rank in a field of golden wheat. Leonidas and his Captain
|
|
walk past the familiar face of Dilios, who nods to his
|
|
king.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Is this all of them?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
As you ordered. 300 with born sons
|
|
to carry on their name.
|
|
|
|
A Spartan named STELIOS (28), lean and hard-bodied, speaks
|
|
up from the line of soldiers.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
We are with you, sir, to the death.
|
|
|
|
The Captain turns and barks at Stelios.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Hold your tongue, boy? Or I'll take
|
|
you at your word.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas makes eye contact with Stelios, then points to a
|
|
young Spartan, with the soft face of a child near the rear
|
|
of the pack.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
21.
|
|
|
|
|
|
He is your own and too young to
|
|
have felt a woman's warmth.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas stands before the baby-faced warrior.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
I have others to replace him.
|
|
|
|
The Captain stands next to his King, and glances into the
|
|
eyes of his son, ASTINOS (18).
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
He is as brave and ready as any. No
|
|
younger than we were the first time
|
|
you stood next to me in battle.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You are a good friend, but a better
|
|
Captain, there is not.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas places his hand on the Captain's shoulder, as if
|
|
to mark his selfless act.
|
|
|
|
In the morning light, a group of COUNCILMEN are led forward
|
|
by Theron.
|
|
|
|
ELDER COUNCILMAN
|
|
My good King, the Oracle has
|
|
spoken.
|
|
|
|
The group stands before Leonidas, trying to gain his
|
|
attention.
|
|
|
|
COUNCILMAN
|
|
The Ephors have spoken. There must
|
|
be no march.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas continues to view his men with a disciplined eye.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
The law, my Lord. The Spartan Army
|
|
must not go to War.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Nor shall it. You worry over
|
|
nothing.
|
|
|
|
Theron and the councilmen view the assembly of warriors.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
I have issued no such orders. These
|
|
300 are my personal bodyguards. Our
|
|
army will stay in Sparta.
|
|
22.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks away from his 300, to his Queen and child
|
|
who have now joined the group.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
We'll head North.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo pulls her son into her hip.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
The Hot Gates.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks at his family.
|
|
|
|
ELDER COUNCILMAN
|
|
What do we do?
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
What can we do?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You will listen to your queen in my
|
|
absence. The throne of Sparta rests
|
|
with her.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lifts his shield and looks back at his 300 men.
|
|
The Captain nods that his men are ready. Leonidas calls
|
|
back to the Spartan Councilmen.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
What can you do? Sparta will need
|
|
sons.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas moves toward his men, to begin their long march
|
|
North.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Spartan!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas turns to his wife's voice.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Yes, my lady.
|
|
|
|
The Queen walks to him, lifting from her neck the simple
|
|
leather necklace, attached is a wolf fang. Her husband's
|
|
first boyhood enemy.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Come back with your shield... or on
|
|
it.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas bows slightly, as she passes the necklace over his
|
|
head.
|
|
23.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Yes, my lady.
|
|
|
|
There are no tears from her eyes, nor trembling in his
|
|
voice.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Goodbye, my love. He doesn't say
|
|
it. There is no room for softness,
|
|
not in Sparta. No place for
|
|
weakness.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas and his 300 start to march from Sparta.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only the hard and strong may call
|
|
themselves Spartans.
|
|
|
|
The King knows he will never see her again. He will never
|
|
see Sparta again.
|
|
|
|
They march on!
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only the hard. Only the strong.
|
|
|
|
|
|
20 EXT. MOUNTAINS NEAR SPARTA 20
|
|
|
|
On a distant blade of rock, a LONE FIGURE, hobbled and
|
|
bent, follows the Spartans as they move across the golden
|
|
fields.
|
|
|
|
|
|
21 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 21
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: the sound of twin FLUTES and goat hide sandals
|
|
against soil. In silence, they march over the sharp rocks
|
|
and earth, looming steadily, weaving a small shapeless mass
|
|
of men North.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
We march. For our lands. For our
|
|
families. For our freedoms.
|
|
|
|
On the broken ridgeline more men appear, other pockets of
|
|
strong Hoplites from city-states that have heard the call
|
|
to war.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Noisy Arcadians greet us with noisy
|
|
complaints.
|
|
24.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas leads his men and greets the Arcadians.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Daxos, a pleasant surprise.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS, a tree trunk of a man, circular shield strapped his
|
|
back, leads the Arcadian force.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
This morning's full of surprises,
|
|
Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
His men look at the small Spartan numbers and begin to
|
|
murmur among themselves.
|
|
|
|
ARCADIANS
|
|
We have been tricked ... There
|
|
can't be more than a few hundred of
|
|
them ... This is a surprise ...
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Silence.
|
|
|
|
The men settle and listen... listen carefully to the words
|
|
that will come.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
We were told Sparta was on the
|
|
warpath! We were eager to join
|
|
forces.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
If it is blood you seek, you are
|
|
welcome to join us.
|
|
|
|
Daxos scans the Spartans, counting quickly the rows of men,
|
|
unmoving under the weight of their armor as if carved from
|
|
the mountain itself.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
But you bring only this handful
|
|
against Xerxes? I see I was wrong
|
|
to expect Sparta's commitment to at
|
|
least match our own!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas sits atop a smooth, moss-covered stone.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Doesn't it?
|
|
|
|
Leonidas glances to the Arcadians.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
25.
|
|
|
|
|
|
You there. What is your profession?
|
|
|
|
A small-framed ARCADIAN steps forward.
|
|
|
|
ARCADIAN #1
|
|
I am a potter, sir.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas points to another.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
And you, Arcadian. What is your
|
|
profession?
|
|
|
|
Another Arcadian responds from group.
|
|
|
|
ARCADIAN #2
|
|
A sculptor, sir.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas points again to the crowd.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
And you?
|
|
|
|
ARCADIAN #3
|
|
A blacksmith.
|
|
|
|
Again the King points.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You?
|
|
|
|
ARCADIAN114
|
|
A baker.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas stands, turning to his 300.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Spartans! What is your profession?
|
|
|
|
From the silent mass of Spartan muscle, 300 spears and
|
|
swords are raised to the sky, a collective battle cry exits
|
|
each, thunder and fire that spits forth from their bellies.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
|
|
The Spartan weapons lower and raise again and again each
|
|
time the men grow louder with their chant of war.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
26.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas nods softly at his men and turns to Daxos.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You see, old friend? I brought more
|
|
soldiers than you did.
|
|
|
|
|
|
22 INT. GORGO'S PRIVATE GARDEN - SPARTA - DUSK 22
|
|
|
|
On the ground, simple oil-fed cauldrons burn bright,
|
|
casting shadows that dance along the branches of olive
|
|
trees. Gorgo meets with a Spartan LOYALIST near the
|
|
garden's roughly chiseled steps.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Is such secrecy needed?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
When is one to trust beyond the
|
|
walls of their own home? Even here,
|
|
Theron has eyes and ears that fuel
|
|
Sparta with doubt and fear.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Don't worry. Leonidas and his men
|
|
are strong.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
It is not his strength that worries
|
|
me ... if Xerxes is not stopped ...
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
He will be stopped.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
If Persians advance beyond the
|
|
narrows to the North, they will
|
|
leave no one to tell our story.
|
|
They will grind Spartan bones to
|
|
flour and serve them to their Army.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist reflects on the Queen's words.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I now bear the weight of the king's
|
|
responsibility. If Leonidas fights
|
|
for what he believes, so must I,
|
|
here in Sparta.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo stands beneath an arbor of lavender.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
27.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I can arrange for you to speak to
|
|
the Council. Many would vote to
|
|
commit all we have and follow
|
|
Leonidas, but you must show them
|
|
favor, explain why their King would
|
|
betray the law of his land.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Laws created by men who have never
|
|
shown valor.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Is it recklessness or valor?
|
|
Without reason the Council can
|
|
believe either.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo watches a Spartan guard on horseback ride out of the
|
|
city into the blackness of night.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I will go to the Council, and if it
|
|
is reason they want, I will let
|
|
them know.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Know what, my Queen?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
How precious this liberty we enjoy
|
|
is. Why freedom isn't free at all.
|
|
It comes with the highest of costs.
|
|
The cost of blood.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist nods in agreement with his Queen.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
I'll bring together the city's
|
|
council, and its chamber will be
|
|
filled by your voice.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist gathers himself and readies to leave.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Why do you do this?
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Leonidas is my King, as well as
|
|
yours.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist bows his head and goes without sound, leaving
|
|
the Queen to view the stars that spread across the obsidian
|
|
night.
|
|
28.
|
|
|
|
|
|
23 EXT. GREEK WAR CAMP - NIGHT 23
|
|
|
|
Most Spartans sleep, huddled near each other, laying over
|
|
their bronze shields like massive rag dolls of war.
|
|
|
|
The Captain moves across the campsite to Leonidas. They
|
|
watch the bursts of dying sparks jump out of the flames and
|
|
vanish.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
No sleep tonight?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Not for the King.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas studies the fire.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Too restless ... eager as a youth
|
|
... eager as a beardless wet-nosed
|
|
cadet for battle.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks towards his men and then back to the
|
|
Captain. They share a moment and nod, a moment only shared
|
|
and understood by men who have given themselves fully to
|
|
one thing their whole lives. Leonidas' voice quiets.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
All my forty years have been a
|
|
straight road to this one gleaming
|
|
moment in destiny. This one radiant
|
|
clash of shield and spear and sword
|
|
and bone and flesh and blood.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas returns to the fire, watching it dance. The King's
|
|
eyes close for a moment. Just a dream of sleep would be
|
|
enough.
|
|
|
|
|
|
24 EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS 24
|
|
|
|
The day has turned and grey mist rises in ghostly shapes
|
|
from the spine of the mountains. The band of brothers
|
|
descends through the merciless heat. Astinos points to the
|
|
ridgeline.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
We are being followed.
|
|
|
|
The silhouetted figure looms, watching the Spartans'
|
|
progress.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
29.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It has followed us since Sparta.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
A Persian scout?
|
|
|
|
The Spartans rest for a moment.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No. Its stride is more beast than
|
|
man.
|
|
|
|
Stelios points to thin columns of black smoke on the blue
|
|
horizon.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Look, my King.
|
|
|
|
|
|
25 EXT. GREEK VILLAGE 25
|
|
|
|
As the Spartans and Greeks enter. Buildings still smolder
|
|
and fall to ash. A complete wasteland, void of hope and
|
|
song, filled with smell of slaughtered livestock and the
|
|
dead.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
What happened here? Where are the
|
|
people?
|
|
|
|
Leonidas scans the details of the destruction. Footprints
|
|
in the wet earth, hooves of strange beasts, torn bits of a
|
|
peasant's dress. Leonidas crouches, tracing with his finger
|
|
the claw-like footprints in the blood-soaked earth.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Persians.
|
|
|
|
The Captain kneels next to Leonidas after surveying the
|
|
scene.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
I put their numbers at around
|
|
twenty.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
A scouting party ... But these
|
|
footprints ... What could have ...
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
A child!
|
|
30.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Spartans turn to see the naked form of a CHILD. A
|
|
phantom, her thin pale body, covered in dirt and dried
|
|
blood. The mass of Greek warriors part as she moves between
|
|
them and stands before Leonidas in silence.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Water.
|
|
|
|
CHILD
|
|
It's quiet now ... They ... they
|
|
came with beasts from the blackness
|
|
... monsters ... dark-skinned ...
|
|
cold eyes ... from my nightmares.
|
|
|
|
The Child is stoic in her telling of the tale.
|
|
|
|
CHILD
|
|
With their claws and fangs they
|
|
grabbed them ... everyone ...
|
|
everyone but me.
|
|
|
|
SPARTAN
|
|
I've found them.
|
|
|
|
A Spartan points to a massive wind-blown tree at the top of
|
|
a hill.
|
|
|
|
The Child collapses at the feet of the King. Leonidas
|
|
slowly lifts her into his arms.
|
|
|
|
He closes the eyes of the lifeless child and looks towards
|
|
the lone ancient tree. Where VILLAGERS, MAN, WOMAN,CHILD
|
|
have been strung out like Christmas ornaments, hundreds of
|
|
Persian arrows pierced through their limbs and bodies.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Have the gods no mercy!
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
We are doomed.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Quiet yourself.
|
|
|
|
The Spartans and free Greeks move slowly towards the
|
|
haunting tree. Leonidas stands without expression, holding
|
|
the dead child.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
31.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The child speaks of the Persian
|
|
ghosts, knows from the ancient
|
|
times, bound by the myth and magic
|
|
of the night ... They are the
|
|
hunters of men's souls.
|
|
|
|
Some of the Greeks nervously look at each other.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
They cannot be killed or defeated,
|
|
not this darkness, not these
|
|
immortals.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lays the small child's frame at the base of the
|
|
tree.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Immortals? We will put their name
|
|
to the test.
|
|
|
|
|
|
26 EXT. HOT GATES - SUNSET 26
|
|
|
|
Leonidas pauses, watching the men stream down past him into
|
|
the narrow canyon called the Hot Gate. The WIND HOWLS
|
|
through the ancient cut in the mountains and the crimson
|
|
Spartan capes ...
|
|
|
|
... SNAP like flags.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
We march ... from Lakonia ... from
|
|
sacred Sparta ... we march ... for
|
|
Honor's sake ... for Glory's sake
|
|
... we march ... Into hell's
|
|
mouth.we march.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas nods to a few passing brothers, dust swirls as the
|
|
Captain and his son pass. Leonidas and the Captain share a
|
|
moment which causes the Captain to slap a strong hand on
|
|
his son's back, smile at him, a father and son joined in
|
|
battle, and then turns back to Leonidas. The look of pride
|
|
still on his face.
|
|
|
|
The Captain makes his way through the current of soldiers
|
|
to stand next to his King, his friend.
|
|
|
|
As the troops thunder past, the two survey the landscape
|
|
for a moment, looking down through the Hot Gates to the
|
|
ocean. Dilios stops and points into the far distance.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Look! Persians!
|
|
32.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Countless Persian ships bob like toys on an angry sea,
|
|
pulling down distant sails in preparation for a coming
|
|
storm. Black bellies of clouds mix with the last light of
|
|
day.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Did you know the God King Xerxes
|
|
requires no less than 8,000 slaves
|
|
to move and assemble his personal
|
|
compound. That the zoo of animals
|
|
that accompany him consume over 100
|
|
tons of wheat, hay and meat a day.
|
|
That their Persian war brothel is
|
|
contained in over 80 tents and its
|
|
number of concubines, goats and war
|
|
boys outnumber us 3 to 1. And that
|
|
the column of carts that bear the
|
|
skins and barrels of fermented
|
|
barley and wine is over 15 miles
|
|
long.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Well, at least we'll die with the
|
|
stench of Persian whores on our
|
|
cocks and the taste of Persian wine
|
|
on our lips.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Die perhaps ... or live forever.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
An optimist.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
I can afford to be ... I've got you
|
|
on my side.
|
|
|
|
The Captain nods to his friend as the nearing soldiers
|
|
clamor by ...
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
You do indeed. The burden of
|
|
Kingship you bear alone, but our
|
|
friendship we bear together.
|
|
|
|
Dilios takes a few steps past Leonidas, following the men
|
|
who head down to the sea, then turns back to them.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Come, let's watch these motherless
|
|
dogs as they are embraced by the
|
|
loving arms of Greece herself.
|
|
33.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas takes a look at the sky and then back to the
|
|
Persian fleet.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
True, it does look like rain.
|
|
|
|
|
|
27 EXT. SEA CLIFF 27
|
|
|
|
Lightning flashes across a violent sky, exploding the mast
|
|
of a Persian trireme. The vessel is tossed on giant SURF,
|
|
CRASHING it into the rocky coast.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Let the others scurry for cover. We
|
|
rush to bear witness. The Gods
|
|
play. Zeus stabs the sky with
|
|
thunderbolts. Boreas howls,
|
|
bullied... and batters the sea with
|
|
hurricane wind.
|
|
|
|
Daxos joins Leonidas and his men as they stand above the
|
|
sea on the cliff watching as one after another, the Persian
|
|
fleet is smashed in SLOWMOTION, to kindling. Below, another
|
|
bolt of lightning briefly illuminates faces of the
|
|
countless drowning slave oarsmen gasping for breath among
|
|
the splintered timbers of the Persian Armada.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Poseidon rises, rudely awakened,
|
|
furious, his surf clawing at the
|
|
stars.
|
|
|
|
The RAIN POUNDS against Leonidas' shield like war drums as
|
|
he drinks in the carnage below.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Glorious.
|
|
|
|
Behind Leonidas, his men laugh. Cries of jubilation are
|
|
heard. The men embrace and Daxos raises his fist in victory
|
|
as another massive Persian ship explodes onto the rocks and
|
|
again the surf surges made viscous by flesh and wood.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Laughter, song and praise for the
|
|
Gods that will continue to the next
|
|
day's dawn.
|
|
|
|
Then another flash of lightning as the men behind dance
|
|
with time suspended, in ecstasy of jubilation. Leonidas,
|
|
jaw set, face cold, stern and motionless, says nothing.
|
|
34.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only one among us keeps his Spartan
|
|
reserve.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas slowly lowers his shield, allowing the rain to run
|
|
down his unmoving face.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only he.
|
|
|
|
THUNDER mixed with laughter and the pounding sea. The
|
|
distant cries of a host of drowning Persians. Leonidas
|
|
lifts his chin in slow motion to the rain and closes his
|
|
eyes, breathes the salty air and turns back through his men
|
|
to the Spartan camp.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only our King.
|
|
|
|
|
|
28 EXT. NEAR THE PERSIAN CAMP - DAWN 28
|
|
|
|
A handful of Spartans moves silently through the misty
|
|
forest at a pace impossibly fast for the lack of sound. No
|
|
helmets, no shields.
|
|
|
|
FLASHES of red and steel between the trunks of mountain
|
|
pines.
|
|
|
|
A Spartan points to the edge of a bluff just in front of
|
|
them, the forest silhouetted by the bright sky, telling
|
|
Daxos they have reached the overlook they had ventured into
|
|
the woods to find.
|
|
|
|
He crawls on his belly until he is next to the Spartans who
|
|
lie at the cliff's edge looking down on the Persian
|
|
encampment. Daxos' breath catches in his throat as terror
|
|
grips him staring down on the camp of his enemy.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: the greatest gathering of men and animals the world
|
|
has ever seen, for the valley below him, which stretches
|
|
five miles across, bordered on one side by the sea and on
|
|
the other by the mountains, contains from edge to edge a
|
|
city of tents complete with roads that team with people and
|
|
carts and horse and creatures no Greek eye has seen before.
|
|
At the coast, countless thousands of ships are being
|
|
unloaded and tended to. Vast legions of men march this way
|
|
and that, the smoke from the tens of thousands of fires has
|
|
created a cloud of black that drifts and clings over the
|
|
nearby mountains.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
35.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I saw those ships smashed on the
|
|
rocks. How can this be?
|
|
|
|
SPARTAN
|
|
We saw but a fraction of the
|
|
monster that is Xerxes' army.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan smiles, shaking his head at the sheer
|
|
spectacle.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
We are doomed. There can be no
|
|
victory here. Why do you smile?
|
|
|
|
SPARTAN
|
|
Arcadian, I have fought countless
|
|
times ... Yet I have never met an
|
|
adversary who could offer me what
|
|
we Spartans call a Beautiful Death.
|
|
I can only hope with all the
|
|
world's warriors gathered against
|
|
us that there might be one down
|
|
there who's up to the task.
|
|
|
|
With that he slaps a hand on Daxos' back and laughs.
|
|
|
|
|
|
29 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 29
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: a form, half-man/half-unknown, who has followed
|
|
Leonidas. Its hunched back, gruesome and abstract, face
|
|
rutted and worn like leather. EPHIALTES moves with a broken
|
|
gait, mouth shaped like a gunshot wound, eyes uneven, wild
|
|
with determination.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Honored father ... Smile down upon
|
|
me from your place of rest. This
|
|
day your son will prove himself.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes' feet trample over the wild scrub and withered
|
|
flowers sheathed in dust.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I will show you that you were not
|
|
wrong to protect me. I will show
|
|
you that I am worthy.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes stops at the edge of a high cliff, cupping his
|
|
misshapen hand towards his face, inhaling deeply, smelling,
|
|
questioning the air itself.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
36.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bastards.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: the sound of TROOPS marching in the distance.
|
|
|
|
A PERSIAN GENERAL carried atop a golden throne, surrounded
|
|
by BODYGUARDS. He whips his slaves and pushes them on.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Persian bastards! We'll kill all of
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes grits his teeth and growls at the passing Persian
|
|
display.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
We Spartans will destroy you.
|
|
|
|
|
|
30 EXT. HOT GATES - DAWN 30
|
|
|
|
Morning calisthenics. Leonidas leans on his spear,
|
|
watching. A summer WIND blows cool off the Aegean. Bodies
|
|
straight, teeth clenched at the zenith of a military push
|
|
up, they hold that pose.
|
|
|
|
On each of their backs stands another Spartan with shield,
|
|
helmet, spear and cape. Muscles shake and quiver under 200
|
|
pounds of men and armor.
|
|
|
|
Daxos rushes into the Spartan campsite. Leonidas turns from
|
|
his men who can be heard in the b.g.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is calm, almost pleasant.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Daxos, you're up early for an
|
|
Arcadian.
|
|
|
|
Daxos is scared, he points in the direction of the sea.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
A Persian General approaches. You
|
|
should come and speak to him. It is
|
|
our one chance for survival.
|
|
|
|
The King nods slowly at Daxos.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
You are the King. Your men are ill-
|
|
prepared for the delicate matters
|
|
of state. I fear the welcome that
|
|
this ambassador will receive and
|
|
the message it sends to Xerxes.
|
|
37.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas smiles at Daxos.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No, on second thought, I am busy.
|
|
My boys will meet him at the wall
|
|
and I think you will find them
|
|
quite prepared to show him a proper
|
|
Spartan welcome.
|
|
|
|
|
|
31 EXT. SEASIDE ROAD 31
|
|
|
|
Persians advance up the primitive highway. The Persian
|
|
General's gold litter, carried by twelve slaves at a dead
|
|
run, suddenly slows as it approaches the Hot Gates. Fear
|
|
grips the dark-skinned slaves who carry the General.
|
|
|
|
More afraid of what they see than the General's whip.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Perhaps King Xerxes sent his
|
|
General to negotiate our surrender.
|
|
Or perhaps he wonders why he has
|
|
not heard from his scouts.
|
|
|
|
As they round the last bend, the Hot Gates still in the
|
|
distance, they are greeted by two dozen dead Persian
|
|
scouts. Each impaled by a spear so that it protrudes from
|
|
his mouth. The shafts of the spears inside their bodies
|
|
cause them to sit upright.
|
|
|
|
The dead scouts adorn the rocks and dirt mounds, a signpost
|
|
to the General that he is headed in the right direction.
|
|
His handful of bodyguards are frozen as they stare at the
|
|
gruesome display.
|
|
|
|
|
|
32 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 32
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes watches the Persian General and his column of men
|
|
fade into the distance.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Destroy them, right up their camel-
|
|
callused backsides.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes spins and thrusts the sky with his. spear in mock
|
|
battle.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Blessed Spartans! The boldest of
|
|
men. The finest warriors in all the
|
|
world!
|
|
38.
|
|
|
|
|
|
He turns and opens his stride across the sharp rocks.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
They will accept me. They must
|
|
accept me. Father! Beloved Mother!
|
|
You will see that you were right to
|
|
protect me.
|
|
|
|
And now the creature runs.
|
|
|
|
The path is strange and solemn. Among the ferns and
|
|
mountain oaks, granite shelves, ragged escarpments of stone
|
|
and earth braced by the invisible hands of the Gods
|
|
themselves.
|
|
|
|
He runs to warn his Spartans.
|
|
|
|
|
|
33 EXT. WALL OF THE DEAD 33
|
|
|
|
Near the entrance to the Hot Gates. The Persian General
|
|
half-stands out of the ornate chair, borne on the shoulders
|
|
of bleeding slaves, to better see who among his enemies are
|
|
gathered at the wall which now acts as a barrier, funneling
|
|
would-be attackers into the Hot Gates.
|
|
|
|
A large group of Spartans work at putting the finishing
|
|
touches to the wall. Stelios puts a large rock in place at
|
|
the top of the wall and, already sweating hard, glances at
|
|
the approaching General who calls up to him.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
You there! Who commands here?
|
|
|
|
Stelios stares down at him, then to the water below. He
|
|
takes a breath and leaps fifty feet to the sea. His form is
|
|
perfect. The General watches as he hits the water headfirst
|
|
with barely a splash.
|
|
|
|
The General looks at the men as they work on the wall. No
|
|
one has stopped. The General stands, frustrated, on the
|
|
platform supported by slaves, and calls again to the men
|
|
working on the wall.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
I am the emissary of the Ruler of
|
|
all the World, the God of Gods, the
|
|
King of Kings and I demand by that
|
|
authority that you show me your
|
|
commander.
|
|
|
|
One or two of the Arcadians look over their shoulders at
|
|
the Persian General.
|
|
39.
|
|
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
Listen and learn, Spartans. I am
|
|
tired of your petulance.
|
|
|
|
Stelios climbs the cliff face up out of the salt water. He
|
|
leans against a boulder and begins sharpening his sword
|
|
with a found stone.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
Do you think that the paltry dozen
|
|
you slew scares us or means
|
|
anything to us? They are nothing to
|
|
the great Xerxes. Why, these hills
|
|
swarm with our scouts. They watch
|
|
us even now. They move like
|
|
shadows.
|
|
|
|
The men still work, moving the rocks, handing them to one
|
|
another, ignoring the Persian General, who laughs a one-
|
|
breath laugh and looks to his nervous men. He then points
|
|
at the wall.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
Do you think your pathetic wall
|
|
will do anything except fall like a
|
|
heap of dry leaves in the face of
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
His words catch in his throat as he sees that the wall
|
|
before them is built not just out of stone.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Jammed between the boulders and rocks are the
|
|
heads, limbs, and bodies of countless Persian scouts. Even
|
|
their horses have not been spared. Their faces in grim
|
|
crimson and black clotted blood against the gray of stones.
|
|
The General and his-horrified bodyguards scan the wall
|
|
which looms before them. A monument to death.
|
|
|
|
Stelios lowers his chin, glides his sharpening stone one
|
|
last time down the length of his BLADE which --
|
|
|
|
RINGS with sparks and the song of iron on stone. The
|
|
General struggles for something to say.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Our ancestors built this wall using
|
|
ancient stones from the bosom of
|
|
Greece herself and, with a little
|
|
Spartan help, you Persians supplied
|
|
the mortar.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
You will pay for your barbarism.
|
|
40.
|
|
|
|
|
|
And with that, he loads his whip to strike. Stelios,
|
|
without hesitation, closes the distance to the General in a
|
|
heartbeat. Rising in a powerful leap, his freshly sharpened
|
|
sword FLASHES through the General's arm at the elbow.
|
|
|
|
The General's litter crashes to the ground. His slaves dive
|
|
for the protection of nearby rocks. Stelios stands over the
|
|
General as he grips his stump in pain, blood pumping
|
|
between his fingers. Each of his bodyguards frozen at spear
|
|
point by the now agitated Spartans.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
My arm!
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
It's not yours anymore. Go now. Run
|
|
along and tell your Xerxes he faces
|
|
free men here. Not Slaves. Do it
|
|
quickly before we decide to make
|
|
this wall just a little bit bigger.
|
|
|
|
The General breathes a labored breath, swallows hard and
|
|
narrows his brow.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
Not slaves, no. Your women will be
|
|
slaves, though. Your sons and
|
|
daughters, and elders will be
|
|
slaves. But not you. By noon this
|
|
day you will be dead men.
|
|
|
|
Stelios is unmoved by the General's speech.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
One hundred nations of the Persian
|
|
Empire descend upon you.
|
|
|
|
The General is helped back to his golden perch and his
|
|
slaves shoulder his lighter weight. He turns one last time,
|
|
to the massive wall, to the men that built it, and the
|
|
butcher that took his arm.
|
|
|
|
GENERAL
|
|
Our arrows will blot out the sun.
|
|
|
|
Stelios never changes his expression. His eyes are as cold
|
|
as the bracing AEGEAN which CRASHES relentlessly on the
|
|
cliffs below.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Then we will fight in the shade.
|
|
41.
|
|
|
|
|
|
34 EXT. COASTAL HILLS 34
|
|
|
|
Leonidas and his Captain watch as the Persian Ambassador
|
|
retreats back to Xerxes and his legions.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
The wall is solid. It will do the
|
|
job of channeling the Persians into
|
|
the Hot Gates, and the rest of our
|
|
defenses are nearly complete.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Captain, have the men found any
|
|
route through the hills to our
|
|
back?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
None, sir.
|
|
|
|
Atop the brown stones and pale ground stands Ephialtes,
|
|
like a broken creature.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
There is such a route, good King.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes lowers his bronze shield to reveal his entire
|
|
body.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Just past that western ridge. It's
|
|
an old goat path. The Persians
|
|
could use it to outflank us.
|
|
|
|
The Captain steps forward and levels his spear at
|
|
Ephialtes' frame.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Not one step closer, Monster.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes bows his head towards Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Wise King, I humbly request an
|
|
audience.
|
|
|
|
The Captain stands firm.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
I'll skewer you where you stand!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lowers his spear in front of the Captain's chest,
|
|
stopping him from advancing towards Ephialtes.
|
|
42.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
I gave no such order.
|
|
|
|
The Captain looks to his King away slowly, and backs
|
|
watching Ephialtes as he returns to his men who prepare for
|
|
the Persians.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Forgive the Captain. He is a good
|
|
soldier ... but a bit short on
|
|
manners.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes squints and shortens his gaze to Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
There is nothing to forgive, brave
|
|
King. I know what I look like.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You wear the crimson of a Spartan.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes steps closer to the King, lifting his head with
|
|
pride.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I am Ephialtes, born of Sparta. My
|
|
mother's love led my parents to
|
|
flee Sparta, lest I be discarded.
|
|
My father became a shepherd ... but
|
|
he taught me the warrior's way.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Your weapons and armor?
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
My father's, sir.
|
|
|
|
Silence lays between the King and the eager soul.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I beg you, bold King, to permit me
|
|
to redeem my father's name by
|
|
serving you ... in combat.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas leans onto a smooth, cool stone.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
You will see ... Day and night my
|
|
father trained me.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes opens his stance and twirls the shaft of his
|
|
spear, blurring the speed of its arc.
|
|
43.
|
|
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
To feel no fear ... to show no pain
|
|
... to make spear and shield and
|
|
sword as much a part of me as my
|
|
own beating heart.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes jabs his spear towards Persian camps in the the
|
|
distance, breathing, growling at the imaginary men that
|
|
fall before him.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
You see? My arms are strong and my
|
|
reach is long. I will earn my
|
|
father's armor, noble King ... and
|
|
reclaim my family's honor.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
A fine thrust ...
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I will kill many Persians!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas stands, shadow towering over the warped form of
|
|
Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Raise your shield!
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes stops his attack.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Sir?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Raise your shield as high as you
|
|
can.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes lifts the shield. He is half hidden behind the
|
|
circle of hammered bronze.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Your father should have taught you
|
|
how our Phalanx works. We fight as
|
|
a single impenetrable unit. That is
|
|
the source of our strength.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas demonstrates the defensive stance.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Each Spartan protects the man to
|
|
his left from thigh to neck with
|
|
his shield. A single weak spot ...
|
|
and the phalanx shatters.
|
|
44.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas takes his hand to the top of Ephialtes' shield and
|
|
measures the height, a good two feet shy of the needed
|
|
mark.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
From thigh to neck, Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
The King shakes his head slowly as Ephialtes lowers his
|
|
shield.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
I am sorry, my friend, not all of
|
|
us are made to be soldiers.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
But I ...
|
|
|
|
Leonidas places his hand on the shoulder of Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
If you want to help Sparta in its
|
|
victory, you can clear the
|
|
battlefield of the dead, tend the
|
|
wounded, bring them water, but as
|
|
for the fight itself, I cannot use
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
The King turns quietly away and heads down the slope of
|
|
limestone towards his 300.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Mother, Father, you were wrong.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes turns away, towards the cliff's edge.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
You are wrong, Leonidas. You are
|
|
wrong!
|
|
|
|
But the King continues, growing smaller in the distance.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes turns and leaps from the cliff, disappearing from
|
|
the high outcropping of rock, making not another sound.
|
|
|
|
The Captain watches as Leonidas crosses the folds of rock,
|
|
windblown brush, shade-dappled grass, fine as thread.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
(to the Captain)
|
|
Dispatch the Phocians to the goat
|
|
path and pray to the Gods that
|
|
nobody tells the Persians about it.
|
|
45.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Earth begins to shake and lift, rocks loosen and
|
|
cascade down the cliff face. The Spartans and the other
|
|
Greeks steady themselves.
|
|
|
|
The distant RUMBLING GROWS... STRONGER... LOUDER!
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Battle formations!
|
|
|
|
Without hesitation the Spartan guard and others move
|
|
quickly, grabbing their weapons.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
For a beast approaches ... savoring
|
|
the meal to come.
|
|
|
|
|
|
36 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENT 36
|
|
|
|
And from the very sea itself, the Persian tents and rally-
|
|
points empty and break ground. They charge upwards through
|
|
the valley. They come in hordes, forward, fast, over the
|
|
rocks and shallows, they race on.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
A force of men so massive it shakes
|
|
the earth with its march.
|
|
|
|
Brown bearded forms, chest panels of crocodile cover ragged
|
|
men, smoothed leather head covers adorned with seashells
|
|
and human bones.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
An Army so vast ... beyond
|
|
imagining.
|
|
|
|
The Persians flow upward, through the valley floor and
|
|
foothills of the mountains.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Poised to devour tiny Greece.
|
|
|
|
Like locusts the Persians swarm over the land, destroying
|
|
beneath their advance all that holds life. Nothing is
|
|
spared.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
To snuff out the world's one hope
|
|
for reason and justice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
37 EXT. HOT GATES 37
|
|
46.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Armor is lifted. Leonidas runs forward, leading from the
|
|
front. The Captain and his 300 follow him down the broken
|
|
path.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Follow your King.
|
|
|
|
Stelios lets out a battle cry that ECHOES off the steep
|
|
rock faces on either side of him. Dilios and the Captain's
|
|
son join him as they drop down along the funnel of stone.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Earn your shields, boys.
|
|
|
|
They fork around obstacles, flow down en masse toward the
|
|
Hot Gates. Over rocks they leap. Today there is no need to
|
|
hunt ... the Spartan prey is before them ... one million of
|
|
them!
|
|
|
|
|
|
38 EXT. WALLOF THE DEAD 38
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The sounds of HOOVES and HORSES, like distant
|
|
thunder, GROWINGCLOSER! Blue-turbaned riders, atop sleek
|
|
Arabian horses, dozens break the low hills and funnel past
|
|
the wall of the dead. Now, hundreds of horses are in full
|
|
gallop over the high grass. Riders lean forward on their
|
|
mounts, eyes fierce, scanning for Greek blood.
|
|
|
|
|
|
39 EXT. HOT GATES 39
|
|
|
|
Leonidas settles himself as the rest of his men arrive.
|
|
|
|
They form quickly around their King, quieting their racing
|
|
hearts, and listen to his words over the Persian
|
|
juggernaut.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
This is where we hold them!
|
|
|
|
The Spartans watch as the earth moves and undulates, heaves
|
|
forward, alive with forms dressed in loose silk and cloth.
|
|
They carry curved swords, ivory-handled daggers tucked into
|
|
belts of gold. Horsemen whip the infantry forward, while
|
|
others reach into wicker quivers that hold arrows from the
|
|
East.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
This is where we fight!
|
|
47.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Spartans lower their shields into a perfect phalanx, a
|
|
solid wall of bronze from one side of the Hot Gates to the
|
|
other. Each man protects the next, each with spear extended
|
|
towards the Persian wave.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
This is where they die!
|
|
|
|
The Persian funnel off the Wall of the Dead up the last
|
|
steps of the Hot Gates.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Remember this day, men, for it will
|
|
be yours for all time.
|
|
|
|
A snow-white Arabian and RIDER slows ... the mass of
|
|
Xerxes' machine of war slows ... as the golden shields of
|
|
Leonidas and his Spartans are revealed.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN HORSEMAN
|
|
Spartans!
|
|
|
|
The air is heavy with the smells of leather, iron and
|
|
sweat. Leonidas and his 300 do not move, only their breath
|
|
can be heard against each other's backs.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN HORSEMAN
|
|
Lay down your weapons!
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: From the Wall of the Dead appears the slow arc of a
|
|
single javelin through the air. It settles quickly into the
|
|
chest of the Persian Horseman, toppling him from his mount,
|
|
dead before he touches Greek soil. Leonidas narrows his
|
|
eyes to his enemies.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Persians ... Come and get them!
|
|
|
|
And with the defiance of the Gods themselves, Leonidas
|
|
starts what many speak of but few have the heart for.
|
|
|
|
WAR BEGINS!
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: First faint, then rising with the ranks, a low
|
|
RUMBLING. Strange HORNS and CALLS TO WAR lift from the
|
|
Persians, as if to warn of the Apocalypse that will follow.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Shoulder to shoulder.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan phalanx snaps to a perfect oak and bronze wall
|
|
of defense.
|
|
48.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Beneath the hammered bronze, eyes locked forward, towards
|
|
the howling enemy.
|
|
|
|
The front rows of the Phalanx lower their lances of cornel
|
|
wood and ash, eight feet from hand to razor-tipped end.
|
|
This stand of men appears unworldly, as if some breathing
|
|
metal beast that lays coiled, ready to attack.
|
|
|
|
The force of Persian RAIDERS drops down the last open space
|
|
and funnels straight to Leonidas and his men.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Hold.
|
|
|
|
The Spartans brace for battle.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Give them nothing.
|
|
|
|
Assyrians, Arabians, Bactrians, Cappadocians, Medes,
|
|
Karians, Babylonians, Armenians, and other Asiatic tribes,
|
|
a hundred nations thunder forward at the Spartan line.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
But take from them, everything.
|
|
|
|
The Persians close within twenty yards of the forest of
|
|
Spartan arms.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Steady, boys.
|
|
|
|
CRASH! East meets West. Wicker meets bronze.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan line grits its teeth against the massive
|
|
Persian onslaught. Thousands of Persians push against the
|
|
wall of Spartan bronze. Sandals slide, plowing the earth as
|
|
Spartan feet are forced back.
|
|
|
|
A Persian blade draws the first Spartan blood, grazing
|
|
across the shoulder of a young Spartan. He cries out in
|
|
anger, breathing hate into the Spartan will.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas strains as he and his men finally slow the tide of
|
|
silk and wicker, steel and dark skin. They find a foothold
|
|
that stops their backwards movement, and all at once a
|
|
thousand Persian eyes grow large with fear as Leonidas
|
|
lowers his body, pushes forward, thrusting through Persians
|
|
two at a time.
|
|
49.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Captain rolls over the enemy without pause. Piercing
|
|
through the silk leggings, puncturing their lungs with such
|
|
power that the air escapes the chest wounds in great
|
|
geysers.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Push on!!!
|
|
|
|
They push on, never breaking their impenetrable human wall.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Aaaahhhh!
|
|
|
|
Dilios' jabs land, cutting into Persian throats, the cries
|
|
of pain muffled as they fall under the trampling feet of
|
|
Spartan advance.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Push!!!!
|
|
|
|
They push on ...
|
|
|
|
The Spartans gather strength from Greece herself, the
|
|
invaders fall upon each other, one after the other.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The CRIES of men, strange tongues from foreign
|
|
lands, GROANS and SCREAMS drift out and fall back to the
|
|
lifeless bodies from which they came.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Clear ... to the right.
|
|
|
|
Scared Persians, hearts pounding in hollow determination,
|
|
fall quick prey to the skill of the Spartans.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
No prisoners!
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!!!
|
|
|
|
They step and thrust, killing all before them.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No mercy!
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!!!!
|
|
|
|
A deafening advance, the Spartans repel the Persian
|
|
discharge with ease, forcing the incalculable numbers
|
|
backwards.
|
|
50.
|
|
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
They look thirsty.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Give them something to drink, boys.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
To the cliffs!
|
|
|
|
The Spartan phalanx jolts too. Electrified, they push their
|
|
burnished defense, relentless, driving over Persian bodies,
|
|
grinding towards the coastal cliffs.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lurches, skewering another. The rear columns of
|
|
attacking Persians begin to fold and fall away, over the
|
|
high cliff's edge and into the sea below.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: Gasps of men without earth beneath them, falling
|
|
forms. High-pitched wails and caterwauls bleed forth and
|
|
crumple back onto the force as they are pushed over the
|
|
rocky line.
|
|
|
|
By the hundreds they fall, embroidered tunics and mail
|
|
jackets tumble, continuous and measured screams sing out as
|
|
the Persians distort and separate into the churning salty
|
|
grave.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Hold.
|
|
|
|
With the King's voice, the Spartans stop and watch the last
|
|
Persian sail over the cliff face and disappear without a
|
|
sound.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Hell of a good start.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haawooo!
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: Distant Arabian HORNS sound off. As a thousand
|
|
HARPIES SCREECH and arrows cut loose.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Tuck tail!
|
|
|
|
The Spartans drop to a knee and cover their bodies with the
|
|
bronze shelter from the incoming storm.
|
|
|
|
The first wave of bronze heads sink into the ground around
|
|
Leonidas and his men. Shaft after shaft rains into the
|
|
Spartan shields, momentarily obscuring the sun with their
|
|
volume.
|
|
51.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Persian cowards.
|
|
|
|
Bowmen reach into their quivers and send more missiles by
|
|
the thousands, an attack of size and strength never seen by
|
|
Leonidas and his men.
|
|
|
|
Astinos crouches, laughing beneath his makeshift bronze
|
|
roof.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
What in the hell are you laughing
|
|
at?
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
You had to say it.
|
|
|
|
Arrows pound off their shields, deflect, SHAFTS SNAP, they
|
|
fall in a deluge, pinning Astinos' robe to the ground.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
What?
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
Fight in the shade.
|
|
|
|
They both begin to laugh and now the others join in. As the
|
|
last shrieking volley is cut loose ... All is silent, save
|
|
the Spartans laughter on the battlefield.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Settle down.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks to his Captain.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Let them laugh. It scares the fight
|
|
out of our enemy.
|
|
|
|
The Captain nods.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Recover.
|
|
|
|
A cry erupts from the back of the Spartan formation. In the
|
|
front position, Leonidas sees the mass of beast and men
|
|
they now offer. His eyes widen to the sheer force and he
|
|
sets his body for the impact.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No heroes ... Today no Spartan
|
|
dies!
|
|
52.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Astinos looks to his Father. The Captain nods softly, a
|
|
simple gesture of recognition that comforts his son before
|
|
Hell arrives.
|
|
|
|
Nostrils flare as the giant sand-colored beasts thunder
|
|
down upon the Spartan line.
|
|
|
|
The Captain locks his shield into his body. Stelios fights
|
|
back fear, his breath quickening in time with the advancing
|
|
mounts.
|
|
|
|
An explosion of pure violence.
|
|
|
|
Persians are thrown from their strange mounts, bodies
|
|
trampled; sweat and blood runs freely. Terror carved and
|
|
molded to each Persian face.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
We do what we were trained to do!
|
|
|
|
The Spartans advance with tremendous velocity, half-naked
|
|
forms, red ribbons, brilliant bronze armor rushing forward
|
|
without pause.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
What we were bred to do!
|
|
|
|
The Persians fight with curved swords, small war axes and
|
|
hammers engraved with lions' heads.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
What we were born to do!
|
|
|
|
It is as abstract as it is brutal. Persian men, torn limbs,
|
|
unclothed bodies, crushed and bloody, wounded figures,
|
|
empty hand-tooled saddles, beheaded camels, faceless masses
|
|
clutching to breath and pulse, one by one falling again and
|
|
again to Spartan endurance.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
No prisoners! No mercy! A good
|
|
start.
|
|
|
|
|
|
41 EXT. SPARTAN MARKETPLACE - DAY 41
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Gorgo and her son moving through the crowded
|
|
marketplace. Pleistarchos playfully darts between stone
|
|
columns and pools of bright sunlight.
|
|
|
|
The two move in a loose pair past dark chambers, where
|
|
BLACKSMITHS--
|
|
53.
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- POUND bronze and iron into blade and bowl. Potters shape
|
|
red clay in vessels and plate. Gorgo stops at the mouth of
|
|
an alley and calls to her son, who has disappeared behind a
|
|
gaggle of HOUSEMAIDS, who bicker and gossip.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am not chasing after you.
|
|
|
|
The Queen waits a moment and sighs.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
That's it, I'm leaving. Do you hear
|
|
me?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo turns down the alley shaking her head. She passes the
|
|
red homespun fabric, freshly dyed, they hang drying in the
|
|
midday sun. The shadows of the hanger bars flash across her
|
|
face as she moves between the blood-red fabric walls into a
|
|
small courtyard. Carved out of stone is a simple bearded
|
|
face and out of the stone mouth, water flows, falling into
|
|
a small pool.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist sits, ringing a rag out in the clear water and
|
|
places it on his neck.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
I was afraid you might not come.
|
|
|
|
He stands to his feet as Gorgo approaches.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I'm sorry, my son ... is ...
|
|
|
|
She turns back towards the alley.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Doing what children do best. Please
|
|
don't apologize.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo relaxes a bit, made comfortable by the Loyalist's
|
|
manner.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
He starts the Agoge next year. That
|
|
is always a hard time for Spartan
|
|
mothers.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Yes ... it will be hard, but also
|
|
necessary.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist ponders with a smile, remembering his time
|
|
enduring the Spartan crucible.
|
|
54.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
In two days you will speak to the
|
|
council.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo answers quickly.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
My husband does not have two days.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
Leonidas has chosen his battles and
|
|
so must you. These two days are a
|
|
gift.
|
|
|
|
The Queen nods.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
It's no secret that Theron wants
|
|
what you control. It is his voice
|
|
you must silence. Make an ally of
|
|
him and you will have your victory.
|
|
|
|
The moment hangs between them both.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
My son will be looking for me.
|
|
Thank you ... You are as wise as
|
|
you are kind.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist bows and moves off down a passageway. Gorgo
|
|
turns to the fountain and splashes water on her face,
|
|
relief from August heat. She pauses, letting the water pour
|
|
over her hands, staring into the stone eyes of the
|
|
fountain. From behind her, a voice.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
There's your mother.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo turns to find Theron and Pleistarchos. Her son's eyes
|
|
are nervous as Theron grips his shoulders from behind.
|
|
Gorgo moves towards them both; Theron lets her son go and
|
|
he runs to her side.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You should keep a better eye on him
|
|
if he is to be King one day.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo pulls her son into her. Theron studies the faces of
|
|
both Queen and son.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
55.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It would be unfortunate if anything
|
|
were to happen to him or his
|
|
beautiful mother.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo narrows her gaze at Theron.
|
|
|
|
|
|
42 EXT. HOT GATES - AFTERNOON 42
|
|
|
|
It is a vision of Hell on Earth. Thousands of Persian dead
|
|
lay in heaps. The ground turned to mud by the countless
|
|
gallons of blood. The Spartans work gathering weapons from
|
|
the fallen and putting the few Persians whose injuries have
|
|
not killed them, out of their misery.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas and the Captain pull off their helmets. As they
|
|
do, the Captain sees a Persian crawling among the nearby
|
|
dead. He moves casually over to him.
|
|
|
|
The Captain looks back toward Leonidas, tossing the King an
|
|
apple. As Leonidas bites into it, the Captain puts a heavy
|
|
foot on the Persian to steady him, then plunges a spear
|
|
through his back. The Persian cries out, then dies.
|
|
|
|
The Captain pulls his spear free and moves to the King.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
The Arcadians are itching for
|
|
battle, sire. They're begging for a
|
|
crack at the Persians.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Good! I've got something I think
|
|
they can handle. Tell Daxos I want
|
|
them eager, sober, and ready for
|
|
the next charge.
|
|
|
|
Stelios runs the last few yards right up to Leonidas and
|
|
the Captain.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
(breathing hard)
|
|
King Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Stelios, catch your breath, boy.
|
|
|
|
Stelios puts his hands on his thighs and drops his head for
|
|
a moment.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Yes, My Lord.
|
|
56.
|
|
|
|
|
|
He breathes deeply, then swallows.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Persians approach, My Lord. A small
|
|
contingent. Too small for an
|
|
attack.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks in the direction of Stelios' spear which he
|
|
uses as a pointer.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Captain, you are in charge.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
But, Sire ...
|
|
|
|
Leonidas smiles at the Captain.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Relax, old friend. If they
|
|
assassinate me, all of Sparta goes
|
|
to war.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas becomes more serious, his voice lowers.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Pray they're that stupid ... pray
|
|
we're that lucky.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas begins to move across the landscape of the dead as
|
|
the Captain sighs, then sees another breathing Persian and
|
|
raises his spear.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Besides, there's no reason we can't
|
|
be civil, is there?
|
|
|
|
The Captain buries his spear with crisp precision and the
|
|
life groans from one of the nameless horde of his enemy.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
None, sire.
|
|
|
|
|
|
43 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN 43
|
|
|
|
A clearing between the Hot Gates and the Persian camps.
|
|
Leonidas slows to a stop. His expression a subtle smile. A
|
|
mix of amusement and disbelief at the display before him.
|
|
For, wedged between the sea and the jagged rock face of the
|
|
mountains, is a sight as impressive as it is absurd.
|
|
57.
|
|
|
|
|
|
100 men bear on their backs a giant golden throne beset
|
|
with sculpted lions. Ancient script as old as time itself
|
|
is carved upon the platform. It rises 20 feet above the
|
|
shoulders of the bent slaves who carry it. At its summit,
|
|
surrounded by golden gazelles and backed by a black sun,
|
|
stands XERXES. Nearly 7 feet tall. Body of lean sinew,
|
|
hairless, androgynous, and draped in adornments of gold.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Let me guess. You are Xerxes.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes moves down the richly carpeted stairs of his throne
|
|
platform to the waiting Leonidas. Xerxes steps down, using
|
|
the back of a kneeling slave as the final step.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
A voice as smooth as warm oil on
|
|
well-worn leather and as deep as
|
|
rolling thunder.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Come, Leonidas. Let us reason
|
|
together.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes glides on powerful legs as Leonidas stands next to
|
|
him.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
It would be a regrettable waste ...
|
|
it would be nothing short of
|
|
madness were you, brave king, and
|
|
your valiant troops to perish all
|
|
because of a simple
|
|
misunderstanding.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Don't lose sleep worrying over us.
|
|
We're having the time of our lives.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes stops and turns to the Spartan King.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Brave words. Spartan words. I
|
|
admire you. The strength and honor
|
|
of your soldiers, their fierce
|
|
devotion. There is much our
|
|
cultures could share.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Haven't you noticed we have been
|
|
sharing our culture with you all
|
|
morning?
|
|
58.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Xerxes smiles.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Yours is a fascinating tribe. Even
|
|
now you are defiant, in the face of
|
|
annihilation and the presence of a
|
|
god.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas looks up at Xerxes.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
There is a fundamental difference
|
|
between us. You would kill any of
|
|
your men to win and I would die for
|
|
any of mine.
|
|
|
|
As Leonidas and Xerxes stand together, silent archers pull
|
|
bows taut, keeping an eye on the Spartan King.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
You Greeks take pride in your
|
|
logic. I suggest you employ it.
|
|
Consider the beautiful land you so
|
|
vigorously defend. Picture it
|
|
reduced to ash at my whim!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is unmoved.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Consider the fate of your women.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Clearly you don't know our women. I
|
|
might as well have marched them up
|
|
here judging by what I've seen. You
|
|
have many slaves, Xerxes, but few
|
|
warriors. It won't be long before
|
|
they fear my spears more than your
|
|
whips.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas turns away from Xerxes and scans the hillside.
|
|
Rocks fall in a cascade from a nearby cut in the cliff.
|
|
Xerxes gently puts his hands on Leonidas' shoulder.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
It is not the lash they fear, it is
|
|
my divine power. I am a generous
|
|
God. I can make you rich beyond all
|
|
measure.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes leans closer to Leonidas, his voice goes to a hush.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
59.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I will make you warlord of all
|
|
Greece. You will carry my battle
|
|
standard into the heart of Europa.
|
|
Your Athenian rivals will kneel at
|
|
your feet, if you will but kneel at
|
|
mine.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas exhales deeply, then steps out from under the God
|
|
King's hand and looks at his feet.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
You are generous as you are divine,
|
|
oh King of Kings. Such an offer
|
|
only a madman would refuse.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan King then takes a few slow steps away from the
|
|
towering Xerxes.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
But the idea of kneeling, it's ...
|
|
you see slaughtering all those men
|
|
of yours has put a nasty cramp in
|
|
my leg. So kneeling will be hard
|
|
for me.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
You sadden me, Leonidas. For as I
|
|
am reasonable, so am I vicious, and
|
|
as I am generous, so am I wrathful.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes' body tenses under the weight of diplomatic words.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
There will be no glory in your
|
|
sacrifice. I will erase the memory
|
|
of Sparta from the histories. Every
|
|
piece of Greek parchment shall be
|
|
burned. Every Greek historian and
|
|
every scribe shall have their eyes
|
|
put out and their tongues cut from
|
|
their mouths.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes is afire, voice raised in contempt for the Spartan
|
|
King.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Why, uttering the very name of
|
|
Sparta or Leonidas will be
|
|
punishable by death. The world will
|
|
never know you existed at all.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas turns to Xerxes, eyes as cold as ice.
|
|
60.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
The world will know free men stood
|
|
against a tyrant. That few stood
|
|
against many, and before this
|
|
battle was over, that even a God
|
|
King can bleed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
44 EXT. HOT GATES - SUNSET 44
|
|
|
|
On the flat steps, before the Hot Gates. Stelios and
|
|
Astinos work piling Persian corpses into a great mound at
|
|
the Wall of the Dead. Muscles strain under the lifeless
|
|
bodies. The sun has just passed below the mountains, and
|
|
promise of the night's cold is first spoken by the breeze
|
|
which rises off the sea.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
You fought well today, for a woman.
|
|
|
|
Stelios tosses the body he's carrying onto the pile.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
As did you. Maybe if I am injured
|
|
you will be able to keep up with
|
|
me.
|
|
|
|
Astinos grunts as he heaves a cool body onto another, as
|
|
Stelios drags a body by the ankles.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Maybe I was so far ahead you did
|
|
not see me.
|
|
|
|
The Captain behind them lifts two bodies over his shoulders
|
|
and begins to move towards the youths.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
More likely offering your backside
|
|
to the Thespians.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Jealously does not become you,
|
|
friend.
|
|
|
|
Stelios throws another on the heaping head. The two smile
|
|
at each other.
|
|
|
|
The Captain climbs onto the bodies of his enemies, one
|
|
Persian over each shoulder, heaving them at Stelios' feet.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas calls up to them, out of breath, from the foot of
|
|
the pile.
|
|
61.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Move it, men! Pile those Persians
|
|
high.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas glances back towards the Persian camp, as a wind
|
|
of dusk tosses crimson behind him.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
We're in for one wild night!
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Yes, sir.
|
|
|
|
|
|
45 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN - NIGHT 45
|
|
|
|
The worn road to the Hot Gates. Quiet grips the black
|
|
cliffs. The sea laps onto ageless rock. A light breeze
|
|
whispers in the trees and then out of the darkness ...
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: DRUMS
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
They have served the dark will of
|
|
Persian Kings for 500 years.
|
|
|
|
Clouds roll against the quarter moon. Black banners * cover
|
|
the sky.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Eyes as dark as night. Teeth filed
|
|
to fangs ... soulless.
|
|
|
|
The war DRUMS POUND like the heartbeat of a Titan. A river
|
|
of black bronze surges toward the Hot Gates.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Wordless, their form. Faultless,
|
|
moving in such perfect unison. Each
|
|
collective step strikes the earth
|
|
like a blow from the Fire God's
|
|
Hammer. They march!
|
|
|
|
Feet pound the earth. Barely the feet of men, toenail-like
|
|
claws.
|
|
|
|
WE RISE SLOWLY ALONG the form of black armored skin.
|
|
Muscular arms protrude from ornate plates inlaid with gold.
|
|
Maybe ancient writing or design. Only dead men have seen
|
|
close enough to know.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0.)
|
|
62.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The personal guard to King Xerxes
|
|
himself. The Persian warrior elite.
|
|
The deadliest fighting force in all
|
|
Asia.
|
|
|
|
One of the thousands turns TO us, scanning the hillside as
|
|
his demon brothers pass behind him. A hiss of breath, he
|
|
bares his saw-blade teeth. His black eyes, shark-like,
|
|
searching for Spartan blood.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0. )
|
|
The Immortals.
|
|
|
|
A nameless Immortal at the front of the column holds up his
|
|
fist and, as one, they stop.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The DRUMSFLOURISH, then GO SILENT.
|
|
|
|
The Immortal lowers his fist slowly, takes a few tentative
|
|
steps out of formation and scans the obstacle in his way. A
|
|
wall of stone and fresh Persian dead, 20 feet high, that
|
|
runs from cliff wall down to the sea. He stares up at the
|
|
grotesque sight of his comrades.
|
|
|
|
Something new rises from his belly, freezing his joints,
|
|
making his breath catch in his throat. Something he has not
|
|
felt in countless forays on the battlefield -- FEAR!
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0.)
|
|
Now, while we are fresh and at our
|
|
full strength. Before wounds and
|
|
weariness have taken their toll.
|
|
|
|
The Immortal at the front reaches with shaking hands to the
|
|
two sabers slung at his back. Stepping slowly away from the
|
|
wall, he frees the two long arcing blades and nervously
|
|
watches the wall for movement.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The mad King throws the best he has
|
|
at us. Xerxes has taken the bait.
|
|
|
|
WE MOVEACROSS the faces of the dead at the top of the wall,
|
|
until we COMETO REST ON the dull gold of a Spartan helmet,
|
|
the unblinking eyes of Leonidas is hidden among the dead.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Spartans, push!!!
|
|
|
|
From behind the wall, a hoard of crimson and bronze presses
|
|
as one against the wall of corpses, which tumbles onto the
|
|
horrified immortals, breaking like waves onto the first six
|
|
rows of the Persian elite.
|
|
63.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Pouring over the mound of dead comes a new swell of
|
|
Spartan shields and spears, surging down on the stunned
|
|
Immortals.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas plunges his spear, reaching three deep into the
|
|
ranks of his enemies. He instantly lands a strong foot into
|
|
the chest of the skewered man, pushing him with a single
|
|
powerful stroke of his spear and turns to the next.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Immortals. Well ... As our King
|
|
said, we put their name to the
|
|
test.
|
|
|
|
With his shield, Stelios blocks a blade strike meant for
|
|
the Captain who flashes young Stelios a look before ramming
|
|
his own spear through the attacker's eye socket.
|
|
|
|
This is the hardest fighting they have faced. War cries
|
|
howl from the Immortals as they battle the Spartans.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS:
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Astinos as he catches· an attacking Immortal with
|
|
his spear, in a single move, draws his sword to dispatch
|
|
another surging at his side. The blood of his enemies
|
|
sprays across Leonidas' face as the Spartans push forward
|
|
into the columns of confused Immortals.
|
|
|
|
IMMORTALCOMMANDER
|
|
Stand your ground!
|
|
|
|
The COMMANDER is bumped by a retreating soldier. He grabs
|
|
the fleeing soldier and pushes him back toward the
|
|
fighting. He yells, spitting his rage.
|
|
|
|
IMMORTALCOMMANDER
|
|
I said stand your ground!!!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas parries a blow and then drives his spear into
|
|
another Immortal.
|
|
|
|
One of the Immortals leaps onto the shield of a Spartan
|
|
attacker. His toes grabbing the bottom of the shield like
|
|
an ape's hands, pulling the swords at his back free and
|
|
slicing across the neck of a Spartan soldier, killing him.
|
|
|
|
The Spartans begin to lose ground to the recovering
|
|
Immortals. They claw as they rally, their fangs tearing
|
|
into Spartan flesh.
|
|
64.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas fights two at a time, grimacing through clenched
|
|
teeth. He falls back as the Immortals take their toll on
|
|
the now withering Spartans, locked in a hand-to-hand
|
|
struggle with one of the demons. The Immortal's gnashing
|
|
teeth are just inches from Leonidas' face. Leonidas is
|
|
barely able to draw his sword, plunging it into the
|
|
Immortal's throat.
|
|
|
|
Now from the heart of the Immortal horde, the largest and
|
|
fiercest of the Immortals rushes forward, a full seven feet
|
|
tall at the shoulder, veins in his neck bulging like
|
|
serpents as he roars, collapsing a Spartan shield with a
|
|
kick while in the same moment decapitating another Spartan
|
|
not quick enough to retreat behind his shield.
|
|
|
|
The giant Immortal focuses his milky eyes on Leonidas, who
|
|
fights and dispatches two of the dark horde.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas locks eyes with the giant, who recognizes the
|
|
Spartan king and charges toward him. Leonidas quickly
|
|
recovers a spear and thrusts it at the charging monster,
|
|
who rises into the air on a thundering stride, cutting
|
|
clean in two the spear shaft of the king. He lands with his
|
|
full 370 pounds of crushing muscle on the shield of
|
|
Leonidas, throwing him back onto the mutilated bodies of
|
|
the day-old fallen.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas, lying on his back, recovers his wits just long
|
|
enough to have his sword kicked from his hand. The giant
|
|
roars again, pulling Leonidas' helmet off, which spins to
|
|
rest on the blood-soaked earth. The Immortal pulls his
|
|
blade down toward the exposed head of the king, who raises
|
|
his arm, catching the raw metal blade with a roof block on
|
|
his bronze-covered forearm.
|
|
|
|
Then Leonidas summons from deep within his warrior soul a
|
|
crushing right to the jaw of the demon, who spits blood as
|
|
he roars in defiance. The thing tosses his sword down as he
|
|
moves right into Leonidas' face, roaring as he opens his
|
|
mouth. A mix of blood and saliva pours in rivulets between
|
|
the sharpened teeth of the giant while his eyes fix on
|
|
Leonidas' neck. The king's muscles strain beneath the mass
|
|
of the Persian Immortal.
|
|
|
|
In desperation, Leonidas calls ...
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Arcadians ... NOW!!!
|
|
65.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The giant Immortal is inches from Leonidas' neck when he
|
|
hears the battle cry of the Arcadians. The monster is
|
|
momentarily distracted, allowing Leonidas to strain the
|
|
last remaining inches to reach his sword. He lifts the
|
|
giant off him on two powerful legs and in the same motion
|
|
passes his sword between the giant's head and shoulders.
|
|
|
|
The monster's head lands next to the king as his body
|
|
tumbles to one side.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: From the small thicket of trees at the center of
|
|
the Immortals, the earth begins to move. The trees fall,
|
|
revealing a box canyon filled now with charging Arcadians.
|
|
Daxos leads his men as they cut into the Immortals.
|
|
|
|
Daxos comes right at the Immortal Commander, who is raising
|
|
his saber, ready to cut down his own men.
|
|
|
|
IMMORTALCOMMANDER
|
|
Fight or die where you stand!
|
|
|
|
The eyes of the soldier the Commander threatens go wide, as
|
|
he sees past his master to the ambushing Greeks descending
|
|
upon them. The Commander sees his fear and turns just in
|
|
time for Daxos to plunge his spear through the Commander's
|
|
neck.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Go! Show the Spartans what we can
|
|
do.
|
|
|
|
Daxos pulls the spear free and turns quickly, throwing his
|
|
spear into an Immortal's chest.
|
|
|
|
Daxos draws his sword, fighting on. Thrusting, jabbing;
|
|
missing a parry, his arm is cut. In exchange, he plunges
|
|
his sword into one of the dark horde.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Call us amateurs, will they?
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
They shout and curse, stabbing
|
|
wildly, more brawlers than
|
|
warriors.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Farmer and potter, blacksmith and merchant.
|
|
66.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Free Greeks all, teeth clenched in a battle rage, thrusting
|
|
spears and swords through the frightened throngs of their
|
|
enemies. Pushing, legs driving shields against piceous
|
|
bronze. Forcing dozens of heavily-weighted Immortals off
|
|
the cliffs and into the sea.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
They make a wondrous mess of
|
|
things. Brave amateurs, they do
|
|
their part.
|
|
|
|
STILL UNDER THE DRUMS.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Leonidas pushing forward, muscles flexing, made
|
|
hungry by the wide-eyed terror of the Immortals. They fall
|
|
over each other to flee the attacking Spartan King.
|
|
|
|
As the slaughter continues below, from the cliff
|
|
overlooking the battlefield, silhouetted by the crescent
|
|
moon, a dark figure adorned in gold watches as his
|
|
invincible Immortals fall like wheat under the sickle of
|
|
the Spartan phalanx.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... And a man who fancies himself a
|
|
God ...
|
|
|
|
Xerxes' lips tighten; he breathes deeply through flaring
|
|
nostrils, as below him even the war drums are silenced.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... feels a very human chill crawl
|
|
up his spine.
|
|
|
|
|
|
45A EXT. SPARTAN ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT 45A
|
|
|
|
Dozens of Spartan campfires reach into a nigrescent sky.
|
|
|
|
They burn bright, fueled with a kindling of broken Persian
|
|
arrow shafts by the thousands.
|
|
|
|
Around the fires, warriors mend their wounds with linens
|
|
and oils of root and herb. They drink of red wine and
|
|
recount with pride the heroics of the battlefield.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Our King!
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR a ROAR so primitive it shakes the ground and ECHOES
|
|
OFF the far canyon walls as the other Spartans sound off.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
67.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Haaaawoooo!
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Our honored dead!
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas says nothing, just stares quietly towards the
|
|
heavens along the far edge of the fire circle and beyond.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Triumph.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Yes, the day is ours.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
And the night too.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
True, for now they fear the night
|
|
as well.
|
|
|
|
Dilios moves with the shadowed light, in front of his
|
|
brothers.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Now, as we rest, the Immortals
|
|
crawling back to their master
|
|
whipped dogs.
|
|
|
|
The Captain nods slowly and wipes the now cold blood from
|
|
his hands with a captured turban.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
Every Persian sees it.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
Whom will Xerxes dare to send next?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
They will never measure as fine as
|
|
this.
|
|
|
|
The Captain lifts a red-hot iron rod from the fire's mouth
|
|
and puts it against a young Spartan's side, burning,
|
|
smoldering the skin, cauterizing the gaping hole without a
|
|
sound or expression to fill the night air.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Who among his legions will dare to
|
|
face us?!
|
|
68.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Captain throws the rod back to the fire and again a
|
|
cheer from the Greek warriors rings into the night.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawoooo!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas turns and moves through their war party.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Children ... children!
|
|
|
|
Their King's voice quiets their folly.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
The Medes and Scythians are in open
|
|
revolt! Xerxes is slaughtering his
|
|
own troops.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
There is nothing that can stop now!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas raises his hand, holding some invisible force that
|
|
quiets the men.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Dare we hope ... Dare we hope for
|
|
more than a glorious death?
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lowers his hand and gazes over each of the men's
|
|
faces, half-filled with firelight.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Such mad hope... but there it is.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas points out into the darkness of the battlefield.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Against Asia's endless hordes.
|
|
Against all odds.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan King returns his eyes to his warriors.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
We can do it! We can hold the Hot
|
|
Gates! We can win!
|
|
|
|
The Spartans erupt into a chorus of voice.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haawwooo!
|
|
69.
|
|
|
|
|
|
50 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 50
|
|
|
|
On the shelf of a near cliff ... staring down from the
|
|
blackness and glow of the moon ... Ephialtes tears at the
|
|
red cape that has hidden his deformed soul.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Gods ... I still breathe. I still
|
|
live. Gods, you are cruel.
|
|
|
|
He rips the cape, it settles near his feet.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Damn you.
|
|
|
|
His crude shape leans over, looking down towards the
|
|
Spartan campfires, down towards the distant warriors.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Damn you. Damn you, Gods! Damn you,
|
|
Father ... Damn you, Mother ...
|
|
Damn you all to Hell!
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes lifts his father's bronze helmet toward the
|
|
faultless sky, inspecting the color, its worn strength.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Spartans ... Spartans!
|
|
|
|
He throws his helmet to the ground.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
The boldest of men! The finest
|
|
warriors in all the world.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes grunts in disgust to himself.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Damn you ...
|
|
|
|
He turns his broken form and begins into the night, none
|
|
but himself hearing his voice.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Damn you all!
|
|
|
|
|
|
51 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN 51
|
|
|
|
The second day begins as the first. With full light at
|
|
their backs, barriers of man and beast pound the earth,
|
|
into the slaughter they race. Silhouetted forms, WHIPS
|
|
CRACK!
|
|
70.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Across the backs of a fresh rotation, flooding upwards,
|
|
across the slain and haunted bodies. The men pull from
|
|
their guts a low growling HOWL!
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
One hundred nations descend upon
|
|
us. The Armies of all Asia.
|
|
Funneled into this narrow corridor,
|
|
their numbers count for nothing.
|
|
|
|
They claw and dig into the muddy ground, barreling towards
|
|
the Hot Gates and the awaiting Spartan line.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Back to hell with you.
|
|
|
|
Blood and terror pounding at the temples of the oncoming
|
|
pack of Xerxes' front men.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The raiding party arrives,
|
|
unfortunate for being the first to
|
|
meet the Spartan Nation.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Attack, now!
|
|
|
|
They collide with such force into the bronze shields,
|
|
shudder cycling through SNAPPING! Fresh bones.
|
|
|
|
Others push from behind, but nothing is gained as Leonidas
|
|
plows his pike through the chest of one and moves quickly
|
|
at silencing another.
|
|
|
|
Armless PERSIAN GIANTS run with wicker baskets .on their
|
|
backs. Within the baskets, MIDGET ARCHERS cut loose a
|
|
volley a projectiles.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
At our wall of bronze and crimson,
|
|
there is no retreat, there is no
|
|
surrender. Only honor ... duty ...
|
|
glory ... combat ... victory. They
|
|
fall by the hundreds ... We send
|
|
the severed bodies and fragile
|
|
hearts back to Xerxes' feet.
|
|
|
|
Stelios rams against the hordes, cutting through thin
|
|
tissue and capillaries, lashing out, moving in pace with
|
|
his brothers on the steep slope.
|
|
|
|
Tribesmen, tattoos covering their bodies, sling broken
|
|
shards of glass and porcupine quills into the fight.
|
|
71.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Astinos drops his lance into a Persian thigh and strokes
|
|
upwards, through the groin and out the chest cavity.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
When muscle failed they turned to
|
|
their magic. But we were relentless
|
|
... unstoppable ... We were free
|
|
men ... We are Spartans.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN WIZARDS, draped in black velvet robes, throw clay
|
|
pots mixed of sulfur, bat dung and ash. Its noxious smoke
|
|
rising, obscuring the fight.
|
|
|
|
Dilios nails two charging infantrymen with the tip of his
|
|
spear. Robbing them of any glory, any hope of tomorrow.
|
|
|
|
|
|
52 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENTS 52
|
|
|
|
In front of Xerxes' myriad tents, a long line of his
|
|
Generals wait.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS:
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
King Xerxes is displeased with his
|
|
generals.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes' eyes blaze. Veins bulge in his forehead and neck;
|
|
he grits his teeth. His rage spitting from his mouth, he
|
|
commands the executioner, whose form is grotesquely
|
|
muscled. Where his forearms should be, his flesh and hands
|
|
have been removed. His very bones sharpened into twin
|
|
executioner's axes.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: His arms fall!
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
He disciplines them.
|
|
|
|
And with time still suspended, one of his many
|
|
disappointing Generals is parted from his head.
|
|
|
|
|
|
53 EXT. HOT GATES 53
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The TRUMPETING of not brass horn but angry and
|
|
wild BEASTS.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Xerxes dispatches his monsters from
|
|
half the world away.
|
|
72.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Around the bend. A cavalry of elephants mass.
|
|
Elephants adorned with spikes and cleated stomp through
|
|
their own men. Their trunks fitted hammers and bladed
|
|
sickles. They swing, clearing to the Spartans.
|
|
|
|
THUNDERING!
|
|
|
|
Up the constricted path, on the gray massive backs, Xerxes'
|
|
men, 10 deep, archers, javelin throwers, young boys
|
|
throwing stones down into the battle.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
They are clumsy beasts and the
|
|
piled Persian dead are slippery.
|
|
|
|
The elephants lose footing, some topple, others shift in
|
|
fear. A Persian meets his fate, skewered through a charging
|
|
tusk. Others are tossed like a desultory of tribesman, off
|
|
the beast and disappear under the charge of nations.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Break ... Now!
|
|
|
|
And with the coming magnitude of Persians, the Spartans
|
|
open the phalanx and swallow the enemy whole.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is in perfect form, cutting the enemy down, each
|
|
stroke and parry, a grace for others to emulate.
|
|
|
|
His shield takes a crushing blow from a Persian battleaxe.
|
|
He counters and yaws forward, surrendering his spear tip
|
|
into the face of a Persian Commander, snapping it clean, he
|
|
draws his sword.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Watch them!
|
|
|
|
In front, Stelios and Astinos break free, filled by youth.
|
|
They cleave their swords into an open space of Persian
|
|
dead. Stelios buries his blade, the Persian falling at his
|
|
feet.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
Are you still here?
|
|
|
|
Stelios pulls at his steel, stuck in the corpse he just
|
|
felled.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
If only you fought as much as you
|
|
ran your mouth.
|
|
73.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Astinos laughs and swings through a string of Persians that
|
|
streams toward Stelios, still trying to free his blade.
|
|
|
|
ASTINOS
|
|
Not now, I am a little busy.
|
|
|
|
Astinos is dynamic, effortless, and brave as he takes three
|
|
Persian guardsmen. He cuts and pulls at them, dropping the
|
|
first.
|
|
|
|
Stelios frees his sword, tearing it loose and reenters the
|
|
fight. Astinos drops the second and turns to Stelios.
|
|
|
|
They continue on, all of the Spartans, beating back among
|
|
the promontory of the dead.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Regroup!
|
|
|
|
The Spartans pull into one another, gathering force,
|
|
streaming into the Persians like a wall of intimidation.
|
|
Astinos rages on, killing the dark figures without pause.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Astinos.
|
|
|
|
Astinos looks to his father across the salient, the Captain
|
|
locks eyes with his son.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
On center.
|
|
|
|
They share a moment of praise among this tenebrous day.
|
|
|
|
From the middle of the fray a PERSIAN HORSEMAN, clothed in
|
|
inked leather and iron mail, gallops through the melee. He
|
|
raises his sword and with one arc.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS:
|
|
|
|
For all who see it, the combat stands still. It is no more
|
|
brutal than the rest, only that it's one of their own, a
|
|
Spartan. The Captain watches as Astinos is beheaded only a
|
|
few yards away.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Noooo!
|
|
|
|
Astinos' head falls to the muck and mire, another Persian
|
|
lifts the severed gift in his hands and tosses it up to the
|
|
confident horseman. He holds the head above his and howls.
|
|
A prize offering for Xerxes, he rides back towards the sea,
|
|
never offering fight for a father's pain.
|
|
74.
|
|
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
They all die!
|
|
|
|
The Persians retreat back, with their treasure, a young
|
|
Spartan face. The Captain's rage rises; he runs after the
|
|
force hacking into the backs of fleeing men.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The day wears on ... We lose few,
|
|
but each felled is a friend ... or
|
|
dearest blood, and upon seeing the
|
|
headless body of his own young son
|
|
the Captain breaks rank. He goes
|
|
wild ... blood-drunk.
|
|
|
|
Dilios and Stelios follow him, allowing his frenzy to run
|
|
its course until all the enemy life has been snuffed out.
|
|
|
|
Finally a group of Spartans drag the Captain from the
|
|
field, his face twisted with grief, his tears etching lines
|
|
in the mix of blood and dirt on his face.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The Captain's cries of pain at the
|
|
loss of his son are more
|
|
frightening to the enemy than the
|
|
deepest battle drums. It takes
|
|
three men to restrain him and bring
|
|
him back to our own. The day is
|
|
ours. No songs are sung. The
|
|
Persian camp goes deathly quiet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
54 INT. SPARTAN HOUSE 54
|
|
|
|
A wood fire burns in the corner, illuminating the simple
|
|
mason and beam ceilings. Theron and Gorgo stand in
|
|
conversation.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am not here for small talk,
|
|
Theron.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I am sure of that. You have never
|
|
spared words with me.
|
|
|
|
Theron walks to a rimmed table, tanned cougar hide covering
|
|
its base.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
A drink?
|
|
75.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gorgo studies his face and with a laugh.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Is it poison?
|
|
|
|
He lifts a high pitcher, inlaid of silver palmette rising
|
|
from acanthus leaves.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I am sorry to disappoint you, my
|
|
Queen. It's just water.
|
|
|
|
He pours the water into two shallow bronze bowls, hammered
|
|
with the images of a seated fox and hen. He hands the water
|
|
to Gorgo.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I am told you are going before the
|
|
Council.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am not seeking your advice, just
|
|
your help in winning votes to send
|
|
our Army north to their King.
|
|
|
|
Theron turns to face Gorgo in the half-lit room.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Perhaps I could help. The two of us
|
|
standing together, the politician,
|
|
the warrior, our voices as one, but
|
|
what does your willingness prove?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo takes a sip from the bowl and sets it on the near
|
|
table.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
It proves that I care for a King
|
|
who at this very moment fights for
|
|
the water we drink.
|
|
|
|
Theron nods in agreement.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
True. But this is politics, not
|
|
war.
|
|
|
|
He sets his water down and looks at the Queen.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Leonidas is an idealist.
|
|
|
|
The Queen paces across the near window.
|
|
76.
|
|
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I know your kind too well. You send
|
|
men to slaughter for your own gain.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Your husband, our King, has broken
|
|
the laws. He has left without the
|
|
council's blessings ... I am simply
|
|
a realist.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
You are an opportunist. And a bad
|
|
one at that.
|
|
|
|
Theron closes the distance to the Queen.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You're as foolish as Leonidas if
|
|
you believe that men don't have a
|
|
price in this world. All men are
|
|
not created equal. The Spartan code
|
|
reinforces this maxim, you silly
|
|
little girl.
|
|
|
|
Without hesitation, Gorgo slaps Theron clean across his
|
|
face. He is unmoved by the blow.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I admire your passion. But don't
|
|
think that you, a woman, even a
|
|
Queen, can walk into a council
|
|
chambers and sway the minds of men.
|
|
Regardless of what your king says,
|
|
you have no power there. I own
|
|
those chambers, as if they were
|
|
built by these hands.
|
|
|
|
He grabs Gorgo by the throat, she struggles for a moment
|
|
under his power.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I could crush the life from you
|
|
right now!
|
|
|
|
Gorgo searching the room, nothing, to aid her plight.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
77.
|
|
|
|
|
|
You will speak to the council and
|
|
your words will fall on deaf ears.
|
|
You will receive NOTHING without
|
|
me. Leonidas will have NO
|
|
reinforcements and if by the Gods'
|
|
grace returns, he will be jailed or
|
|
worse.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo looks at Theron in disbelief.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Do you love your Sparta?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo's eyes lock with Theron as she GASPS for air.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Yes.
|
|
|
|
His grip tightens around her neck.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
And your King?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I do.
|
|
|
|
Theron smiles again as he watches Gorgo squirm under his
|
|
powerful grasp.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Your husband fights for his for his
|
|
land, for his love.
|
|
|
|
Theron releases his grip on the Queen's neck.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
What do you have to offer Sparta?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
What does a realist want with his
|
|
Queen.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I think you know.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo trembles, knowing that this sacrifice is the one
|
|
Theron truly wants. She lifts her hand and pulls at the
|
|
soft lace that holds the dress at her neck.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
This will not be over quickly. You
|
|
will not enjoy this. I am not your
|
|
KING!
|
|
78.
|
|
|
|
|
|
There are no tears. Gorgo stands naked before Theron, as he
|
|
begins to ravage her, she makes not a sound, not a move.
|
|
She gives him anything and everything, but not her heart in
|
|
the faint firelight of the room.
|
|
|
|
|
|
56 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENTS 56
|
|
|
|
A perimeter of tribes surround the sanctuary of their God,
|
|
Xerxes. Foot soldiers sharpen their weapons near a stable
|
|
of warhorses. Castaways and penniless slaves roam the night
|
|
for their masters, a makeshift world of chaos at the edge
|
|
of the sea.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
|
|
57 INT. XERXES' TENTS 57
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The FAINT CRIES, erotic WAILS, with the DRUMMING.
|
|
A goat-headed minstrel plays the sitar. Others smoke from
|
|
pipes of octopus skin and listen reed instruments of the
|
|
East.
|
|
|
|
This is a different world. A world of fine silk walls, rugs
|
|
from the Orient, soft pillows, towers of honeycombed
|
|
candles. Incense burns and hangs in tooled copper baskets.
|
|
A procession of slave girls, all near naked, sheer gauze
|
|
and jeweled bodies, dance for Xerxes in the faint light.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Your Gods were cruel to shape you
|
|
so, friend Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
Under a canopy of soft light, Ephialtes moves from the
|
|
shadows.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
But I am kind.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes on a marble pedestal, adorned in rare diamonds and
|
|
emeralds from lands far from where he now stands.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Everything you could ever desire.
|
|
|
|
Concubines of all shapes, colors and nations are brought
|
|
forth for Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Every happiness you can imagine.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes squints his one blue eye at the spectacle.
|
|
79.
|
|
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Every pleasure your fellow Greeks
|
|
and your false Gods have denied
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
The dancers writhe against Ephialtes' frame.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
I will grant you ... for I am kind.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes wipes the drool, the sheer temptation from his
|
|
lips and speaks.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Yes.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Embrace me as your King and as your
|
|
God.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Yes.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Lead my soldiers to the hidden path
|
|
that empties behind the cursed
|
|
Spartans.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Yes.
|
|
|
|
The dancers reach deeper into the heights of their tortured
|
|
bodies.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Your joys will be endless.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Yes.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes opens his impressive arms, extending his jeweled
|
|
hands to his Greek guest.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
You will create your destiny.
|
|
|
|
The dancers have now thinned into the b.g. The MUSIC
|
|
softens and DRIFTS AWAY. Now there is only the God King and
|
|
the Quasimodo named Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I want it all ... Land ... Wealth
|
|
.. Women... and one more thing.
|
|
80.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes shuffles closer and opens his eyes wide for erxes
|
|
to view.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I want a uniform.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes folds his arms over one another and simply nods.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Done.
|
|
|
|
Ephialtes takes a deep breath, as if to breathe in his
|
|
newfound wealth and treasures.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
You will find ... I am kind ...
|
|
Unlike the cruel Leonidas who
|
|
demanded that you stand. I require
|
|
only that you kneel.
|
|
|
|
And with those words, Ephialtes lowers his warped body,
|
|
head following his hands, crumpling his weight down to both
|
|
knees and bows before Xerxes without more celebration or
|
|
thought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
58 EXT. SPARTANEN CAMPMENT 58
|
|
|
|
The air rings as blacksmiths hammer blades, shields and
|
|
spear tips for the next morning's contention.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas pulls at his tattered cape, wanders the different
|
|
campfires, watching his men's faces as they recover from
|
|
the day.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Dilios, I trust that scratch hasn't
|
|
made you useless?
|
|
|
|
Dilios crouches near the firelight, binding a crude bandage
|
|
across his face and head.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Hardly, My Lord. It's just an eye.
|
|
The Gods saw fit to grace me with a
|
|
spare.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
My Captain?
|
|
|
|
Dilios rises and points to a sole campfire raging atop the
|
|
ridgeline.
|
|
81.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
He curses the Gods and mourns
|
|
alone.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas nods quietly.
|
|
|
|
Daxos rides into the Spartan encampment.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Leonidas, we are undone!
|
|
|
|
Daxos dismounts, dropping the leather reins and without
|
|
haste, covers the ground to Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Undone I tell you!
|
|
|
|
Daxos' eyes dart around the blackness beyond the firelight
|
|
searching nervously the high cliff face and then returns to
|
|
the King.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Destroyed.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas has heard enough and barks out.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Calm yourself.
|
|
|
|
Daxos breathes deep and returns to his frightened rant.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
A hunchback traitor has led Xerxes'
|
|
Immortals to the hidden goat path
|
|
behind us!
|
|
|
|
The Spartan warriors straighten to this news as if ice has
|
|
been run through their veins.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
The Phocians you posted there were
|
|
scattered without a fight. This
|
|
battle is over, Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan King turns his back to the Arcadian.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
This battle is over when I say it
|
|
is over, Daxos.
|
|
|
|
Daxos continues to plead his case.
|
|
82.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DAX.OS
|
|
By morning, the Immortals will
|
|
surround us. The Hot Gates will
|
|
fall.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Spartans! Prepare for Glory!
|
|
|
|
His Warriors have already begun preparing their weapons,
|
|
armor and bodies for their shared fate.
|
|
|
|
DAXOS
|
|
Glory? Have you gone mad? There is
|
|
no glory to be had now. Only
|
|
retreat or surrender or ... death!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas turns now to face the man who breeds doubt into
|
|
the minds and hearts of his tribe. He glares into the eyes
|
|
of Daxos.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
That's an easy choice for us,
|
|
Arcadian.
|
|
|
|
The King snaps his response with a steel of character even
|
|
his enemies admire.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Spartans never retreat! Spartans
|
|
never surrender! Go spread the
|
|
word! Let every Greek assembled
|
|
know the bald truth! Let each among
|
|
them search his own soul! And while
|
|
you're at it ... search your own.
|
|
|
|
Stelios holds out the reins for Daxos' horse.
|
|
|
|
DAX.OS
|
|
My men will leave with me.
|
|
|
|
Daxos takes the loose reins in his hands.
|
|
|
|
DAX.OS
|
|
Godspeed, Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
The King is unmoved, and watches Daxos leap to the bare
|
|
back of the pearl mare.
|
|
|
|
Daxos heels the horse's side and disappears. Leonidas
|
|
wastes not a moment and turns to his men.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Children, gather around.
|
|
83.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stelios, Dilios, and Spartan warriors close in around their
|
|
King.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
The Gods favor us.
|
|
|
|
The Spartans roar out.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Tomorrow, we light a fire that will
|
|
burn in the hearts of all free men
|
|
for all the centuries yet to be.
|
|
|
|
The Spartans stomp the dry earth in unison, like a
|
|
thundering pulse that runs through them all.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No retreat ... No surrender! This
|
|
is Spartan law!
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas moves in front of his men, reaching into their
|
|
will and stirring their souls.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
And by Spartan law we will stand
|
|
and fight and die!
|
|
|
|
The warriors erupt, POUNDING their shields and raising
|
|
their weapons towards the star-filled blanket above.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
The law. We do not sacrifice the
|
|
rule of law to the will and whim of
|
|
men. That is the old way. The old,
|
|
sad, stupid way. The way of Xerxes
|
|
and every creature like him.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas stands clearly in front of his brave men. His red
|
|
cape lifts and floats with his every impassioned gesture.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
A new age has begun. An age of
|
|
great deeds. An age of reason. An
|
|
age of justice. An age of freedom.
|
|
And all will know that three
|
|
hundred Spartans gave their last
|
|
breath to defend it!
|
|
84.
|
|
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawoo!
|
|
|
|
From the blackest corner of the Spartan encampment ... WE
|
|
SEE: Leonidas' Captain appear, like a specter of death, his
|
|
face and body smeared and covered, a mixture of ash, soot,
|
|
and his son's blood.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
My friend.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas reaches out to his Captain.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
I have lived my entire life without
|
|
regret until now ... It is not that
|
|
my child gave his life for his
|
|
country.
|
|
|
|
The Captain shakes his head slowly from side to side.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Only that I did not tell him that I
|
|
loved him the most, that he stood
|
|
by me in honor ... that he was what
|
|
is best in me.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas embraces his friend for a moment.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
My heart is broken for your loss.
|
|
|
|
The Captain nods softly.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Heart? I have filled my heart with
|
|
hate.
|
|
|
|
The Captain looks into the flickering flames and back to
|
|
his King.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Good.
|
|
|
|
The Captain's eyes search deep into the valley, to the
|
|
Persian camp below.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Dilios, let's take a walk.
|
|
|
|
Dilios nods his bandaged head.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
85.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Yes, My Lord.
|
|
|
|
|
|
60 EXT. HOT GATES - NIGHT 60
|
|
|
|
Dilios and Leonidas stand on a rocky patch of land away
|
|
from the rest. Dilios is confused, his face pleading with
|
|
his King.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
But ... but ... sire ... I am fit.
|
|
I am ready for combat.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
That you are, one of the finest.
|
|
But you have another talent unlike
|
|
any other Spartan. You will deliver
|
|
my final orders to the council with
|
|
force and verve. Tell them our
|
|
story of honor, duty, glory, and
|
|
freedom. Make every Greek know what
|
|
happened here, you will have a
|
|
grand tale to tell.
|
|
|
|
Dilios feels the weight of responsibility. His King's eyes
|
|
are bright and clear.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
A tale of victory.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Victory?
|
|
|
|
Dilios shakes his head slightly. Leonidas lets the moment
|
|
stretch, then smiles at him. He squeezes his shoulder and,
|
|
nodding, lets him go.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Yes, My Lord.
|
|
|
|
Dilios begins to turn and then slows.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Sire, any message ... ?
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
For the Queen?
|
|
|
|
Leonidas is gone. Transported by thought, across time, set
|
|
free from the bonds of politics and responsibility. For a
|
|
fleeting moment he is just a man, separated by circumstance
|
|
from his reason for living, His Love. His Queen.
|
|
86.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas takes hold of the wolf tooth, pulls the worn
|
|
leather necklace over his tired head and hands it to Dilios
|
|
without a word.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
No ... none that need be spoken.
|
|
|
|
The storyteller turns, then leaves his King alone.
|
|
|
|
|
|
61 EXT. HOT GATES - DAWN 61
|
|
|
|
A false dawn comes slowly, faint blue rising along
|
|
coastline.
|
|
|
|
Dilios has gathered his shield and helmet, cape and sword.
|
|
He begins to walk back through the Hot Gates and away. He
|
|
is surrounded by Arcadians, Thespians, Phocians, Free
|
|
Greeks all. They mutter as they go.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
A handful stay.
|
|
|
|
From a small rise, red capes and bronze shields watch as
|
|
the Greeks abandon the Hot Gates.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Thousands leave.
|
|
|
|
Dilios can feel the eyes of his fellow Spartans and chances
|
|
a took over his shoulder at his Spartan brothers,
|
|
silhouetted against the morning sky.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only one looks back.
|
|
|
|
The retreating Greeks continue.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Only I.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Dilios turn, within the river of men leaving the
|
|
Hot Gates. He is near the end of the columns which wind
|
|
away through the canyon.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas steps slowly through his men. All eyes on their
|
|
Greek comrades disappearing into the pass. The Spartan King
|
|
turns back to his men, they stand in silence.
|
|
|
|
300 SPARTANS.
|
|
|
|
The morning sun just breaking in the East making them
|
|
backlit. Capes glowing like hot coals.
|
|
87.
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Spartans!
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The collective battle cry.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
|
|
Angry, deep and full of reverence for their King.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
Ready your breakfast and eat hearty
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
Leonidas raises his spear and bares his teeth.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
For tonight we dine in Hell!!!!
|
|
|
|
300 spears are thrust towards Heaven, helped up by a cry of
|
|
defiance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
62 INT. SPARTAN COUNCIL CHAMBERS 62
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The chatter and conversation of the assembled.
|
|
|
|
OLD SPARTANWARRIORS, turned from using war to using words.
|
|
A transition few are good at, but all carry its burden and
|
|
responsibility.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Gorgo entering from the carved penetralia. She
|
|
walks alone into the acriform, chin lifted, hair braided,
|
|
head high before the Spartan lawmakers.
|
|
|
|
The ADVOCATES,STATESMEN, and PARTISANS settle into
|
|
primitive seats that coil around the stone floors,
|
|
thrusting forth a stage for the Queen to offer her words.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
May I give the floor now, to the
|
|
wife of Leonidas and Queen of
|
|
Sparta.
|
|
|
|
The Loyalist bows slightly as Gorgo walks towards him. She
|
|
nods and the Loyalist returns to his seat.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo stands, radiating not only her beauty but sheer
|
|
internal strength. She scans the faces, appraising the
|
|
crowd. She knows them all, her eyes even cross Theron.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo shows not a trace of emotion as she clears her throat
|
|
and begins.
|
|
88.
|
|
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Councilmen, I stand before you not
|
|
only as your Queen.
|
|
|
|
She shifts into the amber light that now floods through the
|
|
windows.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I come to you as a mother.
|
|
|
|
The chambers quiet to her voice.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I come to you as a wife.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo moves slowly on the stage.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I come to you as a Spartan woman.
|
|
|
|
She looks to Theron, locking eyes with him until he pulls
|
|
his contact away.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I come to you with great humility.
|
|
|
|
Theron leans forward, listening carefully.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am not alone in this room.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo looks again to Theron, she points, just past him to a
|
|
STATESMAN in the seats to her left. Theron relaxes.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
You, your son fights at his King's
|
|
side.
|
|
|
|
The Statesman nods to his Queen. As she turns quickly to
|
|
another.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Have you forgotten your fine boy?
|
|
|
|
A PARTISAN shakes his head softly, thinking of his young.
|
|
|
|
PARTISAN
|
|
No.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo turns again, using all caution with her words.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
89.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I am not here to represent
|
|
Leonidas. His actions speak louder
|
|
than my words ever could ... I am
|
|
here to speak for all the voices
|
|
that cannot be heard. Mothers,
|
|
daughters, sons, fathers.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo takes a breath, centering her thoughts.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
300 families that bleed for our
|
|
rights and for the principles this
|
|
very room was built upon.
|
|
|
|
The Queen looks to the members of the council.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
You must not forget from where you
|
|
came. All in this chamber once
|
|
carried arms, to defend Sparta. You
|
|
are men that now balance peace and
|
|
war. That balance has been
|
|
challenged. We are free only
|
|
because of some fight to ensure it.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo walks slowly, building her strength.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
We are at War, Gentlemen ... We
|
|
must send the entire Spartan Army
|
|
to aid our King in the preservation
|
|
of not just ourselves, but our
|
|
children.
|
|
|
|
The Queen delivers with all her conviction and passion.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Send the Army for the preservation
|
|
of liberty ... Send it for justice
|
|
... Send it for law and order ...
|
|
Send it for reason ... But most
|
|
importantly send our Army hope.
|
|
Hope that a King and his men have
|
|
not been wasted to the pages of
|
|
history. That their courage bonds
|
|
us together. That we are stronger
|
|
by their actions and that your
|
|
choices today will reflect their
|
|
bravery.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Men lean together, some whisper into each other's
|
|
ears, confidences are passed freely among them.
|
|
90.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Theron watches as Gorgo has quickly made work of his room.
|
|
He claps, slowly rising to his feet.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Moving, eloquent, passionate.
|
|
|
|
Theron rests his hands and scans the faces in the chamber
|
|
in silence.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Why do you waste the time of these
|
|
important men?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo turns to the arrogant voice.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Do we waste your time? Each man in
|
|
this room is no more important than
|
|
the next.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You insult the council, my Queen?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
That is not my intention.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
What is your intention?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo speaks to the seated audience with clear words.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Only to remind us, that each day we
|
|
determine our course.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Course?
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Yes. These days are men's true
|
|
riches. And they're being fought
|
|
for at this very moment as we
|
|
choose words.
|
|
|
|
A STATESMAN rises and calls out.
|
|
|
|
STATESMAN
|
|
Your husband has brought war upon
|
|
us!
|
|
|
|
Gorgo shakes her head.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
91.
|
|
|
|
|
|
You are wrong. Xerxes brought it
|
|
forth, and before that, his father
|
|
Darius at Marathon. The Persians
|
|
will not stop until the only
|
|
shelter you will find is rubble and
|
|
chaos.
|
|
|
|
Theron begins to walk down to the stage floor.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
This chamber does not need a
|
|
history lesson.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo watches carefully as he descends the stairs.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Then what is the lesson like to
|
|
leave?
|
|
|
|
Theron presses on.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
Shall we begin to enumerate all of
|
|
them? Honor. Duty. Glory.
|
|
|
|
Theron takes the stage from the Spartan Queen.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You speak of honor, duty and glory.
|
|
What of Adultery?
|
|
|
|
His voice BOOMS out into the chambers and a hush is leveled
|
|
onto the listeners. Gorgo's eyes wide, stunned by his
|
|
treachery.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
How dare you speak out in such a
|
|
manner.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
How dare I?
|
|
|
|
Gorgo studies the room, quickly searching out friend or
|
|
foe.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Watch her carefully, she is a
|
|
trickster in true form.
|
|
|
|
He narrows his attack.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
92.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Do not play with the members of
|
|
this sacred room, my Queen. Just
|
|
hours ago you lay with me.
|
|
|
|
The chambers go wild at his telling.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
I have your scent on me still.
|
|
|
|
LOYALIST
|
|
This is an outrage!
|
|
|
|
Two armed Spartan warriors now appear from a depression of
|
|
the antechamber and flank Gorgo's left and right sides.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
You look shocked. A bribe of flesh
|
|
I was given while her husband
|
|
promotes anarchy and war.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I ... you ...
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Words escape even the cleverest
|
|
tongue, my little whore Queen.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo's eyes burn with fire fed from the pit of her
|
|
stomach.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
You ... bastard.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan guard grabs her just as she swings at Theron.
|
|
Missing him, she spits in his direction.
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
What Queen-like behavior.
|
|
|
|
They hold her back, as she pulls at their arms, struggling
|
|
to free herself. The room watches, frozen by the spectacle
|
|
before them.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
You will soon feel nothing!
|
|
|
|
THERON
|
|
Remove her from the chamber before
|
|
she infects her son with her
|
|
inglorious and shabby self.
|
|
93.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gorgo throws one of the guardsmen off her, spinning behind
|
|
the other she draws his short blade, kicking him clear and
|
|
with one quick step buries the blade deep into Theron's
|
|
midsection.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am a Spartan Queen, need I remind
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
Theron buckles, his weight brought forward onto Gorgo's
|
|
bloody hands, still holding the blade. She cuts across his
|
|
waistline and from beneath his elaborate frock ...
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Persian gold pieces fall and dance onto the floor,
|
|
Xerxes' face forged clearly upon them for all to see.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
It seems every man does have his
|
|
price!
|
|
|
|
Gorgo leans down and whispers softly into Theron's ear.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
When your bones are dust, my son
|
|
will be King.
|
|
|
|
She twists the short blade deeper into Theron.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS:
|
|
|
|
Their eyes lock.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
This will not be over quickly. You
|
|
will not enjoy it.
|
|
|
|
She remembers his cruelty.
|
|
|
|
GORGO
|
|
I am not your Queen.
|
|
|
|
With those words she twists the blade out. Theron falls
|
|
into a pile of his own blood and entrails.
|
|
|
|
The Council members stand around her, some sift through the
|
|
Persian gold, nodding at the traitor's death. But most
|
|
stand in awe and admire their Queen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
63 EXT. HOT GATES 63
|
|
|
|
Persian archers climb down the steep cliff faces and settle
|
|
their bodies in perfect positions to attack.
|
|
94.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: The Spartan Phalanx solidify. Leonidas' eyes
|
|
searching, he listens for the coming Persian force and
|
|
suddenly they appear. Led by Immortals. Hundreds of them
|
|
surround what is left of Sparta's finest.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
My compliments and congratulations.
|
|
You have surely turned calamity
|
|
into victory.
|
|
|
|
The PERSIAN GENERAL steps forward.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
Despite your insufferable
|
|
arrogance, the God King has come to
|
|
admire Spartan valor and fighting
|
|
skill.
|
|
|
|
The Persian columns build behind each other.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
You will make a mighty ally.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas says nothing as Ephialtes pushes his way through
|
|
the Immortals and faces his once King.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
Yield, Leonidas. Use your reason.
|
|
Think of your men.
|
|
|
|
Silence, save the heartbeat of the Spartans to his back.
|
|
|
|
EPHIALTES
|
|
I beg you.
|
|
|
|
Now carried on the back of Persian slaves, Xerxes and his
|
|
throne are brought forth for the Spartan line to see.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
Listen to your fellow Greek. He can
|
|
attest to the divine one's
|
|
generosity. Despite your several
|
|
insults. Despite your horrid
|
|
blasphemies. The Lord of Hosts is
|
|
prepared to forgive all ... and
|
|
more, to reward your service.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes' throne rests completely and the Persian Lord sits
|
|
knowing after days that he has the upper hand.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
You fight for your lands ... ? Keep
|
|
them.
|
|
95.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Persian force continues to build on the horizon. Now
|
|
thousands are displayed and rest at Xerxes' command.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
You fight for Sparta ... ? She will
|
|
be wealthier and more powerful than
|
|
ever before!
|
|
|
|
Leonidas and his men are still, a solid wall of ragged
|
|
warriors.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
You fight for your kingship? You
|
|
will be proclaimed warlord of all
|
|
Greece. Answerable only to the one
|
|
true master of the world.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes waits the Spartan reply, both leaders defiant ·in
|
|
their posture.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
Leonidas, your victory will be
|
|
complete. If you but lay down your
|
|
arms and kneel to Holy Xerxes!
|
|
|
|
The Spartan Phalanx is unmoving. Weapons tuned towards the
|
|
Persians' divisions. They wait, their racing hearts,
|
|
listening for Leonidas, his words, the fuel to their will.
|
|
|
|
|
|
64 FLASHBACK - EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS - NIGHT 64
|
|
|
|
Snow falls suspended by stretching time. The black paws of
|
|
the wolf move slowly through the light snow. The young
|
|
Leonidas, fearless, raises his sharpened stick into a
|
|
fighting stance. The wolf narrows its red eyes, saliva
|
|
running across its fangs.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
It has been more than forty years
|
|
since the wolf and the winter cold.
|
|
|
|
|
|
66 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY - PRESENT 66
|
|
|
|
Seagulls hover on ocean breeze. Delicate feathers ripple
|
|
with the wind.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
And now as then, it is not fear
|
|
that grips him, only a
|
|
restlessness. A heightened sense of
|
|
things.
|
|
96.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The pitted and dented surface of the King's helmet. A bead
|
|
of sweat rolls down Leonidas' neck. The hem of his tattered
|
|
crimson cape pushed lightly by the wind, brushing a pattern
|
|
into the sand at his feet.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0.)
|
|
The sea-borne breeze coolly kissing
|
|
the sweat at his chest and neck.
|
|
Gulls cawing, complaining even as
|
|
they feast on the thousands of
|
|
floating dead.
|
|
|
|
10,000 arrows shiver under the tension of drawn bows. The
|
|
razor teeth and black eyes of the Immortals fight and
|
|
jostle to lower spears and draw sabers, barely able to
|
|
contain their bloodlust.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The steady breathing of the 300
|
|
boys at his back ... ready to die
|
|
for him without a moment's pause.
|
|
Every one of them ...
|
|
|
|
WE MOVE ACROSS the battered shields of the 300. Clear eyes
|
|
peer from bronze helmets.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0.)
|
|
... ready to die.
|
|
|
|
Finally Leonidas exhales deeply and slowly reaches for his
|
|
helmet. The Persian General watching, under growing
|
|
tension. Xerxes rising from his throne to better see his
|
|
enemy's surrender.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V. 0.)
|
|
His helmet is stifling ...
|
|
|
|
Leonidas' helmet strikes the ground bluntly.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... his shield is heavy.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas shrugs off his SHIELD and it RATTLES to his feet.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
Your spear.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lets his gaze run along the length· of his spear
|
|
past its ragged tip, past even the Persian General to the
|
|
hunched figure crouching among the legs and shields of the
|
|
Immortals.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
97.
|
|
|
|
|
|
You there, Ephialtes.
|
|
|
|
The misshapen eye darts to avoid the King's gaze, then
|
|
chances a look to Leonidas. The two hold each other's stare
|
|
for a moment.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
May you live forever.
|
|
|
|
The moment is broken.
|
|
|
|
PERSIAN GENERAL
|
|
Your spear, Leonidas.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan King looks back down to his hand, clenched
|
|
around the weapon. He slowly opens his hand and looks back
|
|
at the Persian General, letting the SPEAR fall, landing
|
|
with a dusty CLANK!
|
|
|
|
He looks one last time to Xerxes standing atop his golden
|
|
litter. Behind 10 rows of his bloodthirsty Immortals.
|
|
|
|
Noting the wind as it dances with the black banners at the
|
|
back of Xerxes' throne.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE bronze strike the earth as Leonidas falls to his
|
|
knees. His hands go to the rocky soil just in front of him.
|
|
His head slowly bowing, his eyes close.
|
|
|
|
|
|
67 FLASHBACK - EXT. SPARTAN COURTYARD 67
|
|
|
|
Leonidas and his son compare the size of their hands.
|
|
|
|
The King's rough palm is barely covered by the entire soft
|
|
hand of his son. The boy laughs. His eyes smiling.
|
|
|
|
Soft light moves through leaves, laughing with the boy as
|
|
he marvels at his father's hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
69 EXT. SPARTAN FIELD 69
|
|
|
|
Gorgo sleeps in waist-high golden hay. Leonidas with the
|
|
stem of yellowed grass lays next to her. He traces the
|
|
contour of her cheek, she slowly swats at it. He continues
|
|
down her neck, his eyes lost in her form.
|
|
|
|
The nape of her neck, her collarbone, her black hair curly
|
|
against the golden stalks of hay. Tickled, she opens her
|
|
groggy eyes and seeing her husband, softly smiles.
|
|
98.
|
|
|
|
|
|
70 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY - PRESENT 70
|
|
|
|
Leonidas, eyes closed, lets the faintest of smiles fade,
|
|
then with head still down, calls ...
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
STELIOS!!
|
|
|
|
From behind the kneeling King, shields part and in two
|
|
crushing strides, young Stelios leaps, spear in hand, from
|
|
the cover of his Spartan brothers.
|
|
|
|
Planting a foot on his King's back, he flies at the Persian
|
|
General and, still in the air, he thrusts. Ribs part and
|
|
sever. The exiting blood sprays into the eyes of nearby
|
|
Immortals as the General withers under the blow.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas snatches his own spear and, rising, loads for
|
|
mighty throw. Xerxes bares his teeth in anger at the
|
|
defiant King.
|
|
|
|
XERXES
|
|
Slaughter them!!!
|
|
|
|
The air goes thick with wood shafts, feathers and steel.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS:
|
|
|
|
Leonidas does not see the black banners at the back of
|
|
Xerxes' throne fall with the lull in the wind. The only
|
|
sound is that of countless ARROWS POUNDING into BRONZE
|
|
SHIELDS, like hard rain on a metal roof. Through this
|
|
barrage, Leonidas gathers every ounce of his strength.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
His helmet was stifling. It
|
|
narrowed his vision ...
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: The King's eyes. Calm, cold and focused on his
|
|
target.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... and he must see far.
|
|
|
|
The Spartan King's muscles pull the spear forward as around
|
|
him the Persian spindles cut his children down.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
His shield was heavy. It threw off
|
|
his balance.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas lets his spear fly as one after another, arrows
|
|
settle into him.
|
|
99.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
His target is far away.
|
|
|
|
The spear of Leonidas flies against the current of incoming
|
|
arrows as the King cries out!
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
XERXES... DIE!
|
|
|
|
Dozens of arrows strike Leonidas at once. His men fall
|
|
fighting. Leonidas draws his sword, struggling to free it
|
|
from its sheath as arrow after arrow punches through limb
|
|
and sinew.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
The old ones say we Spartans are
|
|
descended from Hercules himself.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas falls back upon the body of another of his fallen
|
|
brothers. He then pushes himself back to his knees.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Bold Leonidas gives testament to
|
|
our bloodline. His roar is long and
|
|
loud.
|
|
|
|
As Leonidas cries out in his glory, his spear silently out,
|
|
away from the dying Spartans.
|
|
|
|
TIME SLOWS.
|
|
|
|
It soars in a straight line. Its shadow snaking up the
|
|
ornate carpet of Xerxes' throne.
|
|
|
|
The God King does not move. He can only watch, wide-eyed as
|
|
the spear of Leonidas, thrown as his fin.al act, grazes his
|
|
cheek. A small spray of blood flies from Xerxes' face as
|
|
the spear sticks into the back of the golden throne.
|
|
|
|
The assembled host of Persian generals gasps in awe at the
|
|
sight of the God King's spilled blood, divine no more.
|
|
|
|
The unquenchable bloodlust of the Immortals rises to a
|
|
fevered pitch as they bring to bear their entire arsenal of
|
|
spears, arrows, swords and lances against the Spartans who
|
|
fight on as they die.
|
|
|
|
The Captain charges forward out of ranks. Dozens of arrows
|
|
finding their mark in his back and chest. Yet, he does not
|
|
fall.
|
|
100.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leonidas watches helpless as one of the Immortals plunges a
|
|
spear into the Captain's chest. The Captain takes hold of
|
|
it, dropping shield and spear, pulling it into his own
|
|
body, moving close to the Immortal who wields it.
|
|
|
|
As life ebbs from him, he grips the Immortal's skull and
|
|
twists it, snapping the neck with an audible crunch. The
|
|
Immortal falls beneath him. The Captain rolls off, snapping
|
|
the arrows that protrude from his body.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Astinos ...
|
|
|
|
He exhales deeply and dies, his son's name still on his
|
|
lips.
|
|
|
|
Xerxes puts a hand to his bleeding face. Overcome, he
|
|
collapses to his throne.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas struggles to reach Stelios. The two fight on...
|
|
side by side with broken blades and useless shields,
|
|
hacking at the relentless Immortals.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: A black and gold turbaned herald ... TRUMPET!
|
|
Through a horn of human bone, signaling the Immortals to
|
|
fall back so as not to be cut down by their own archers.
|
|
Exhausted and mortally wounded, Stelios and the King crawl
|
|
back among the handful of still living Spartans.
|
|
|
|
Endless scores of fresh archers take up positions on
|
|
hillside and boulders, surrounding on all sides that which
|
|
remains of the Intrepid 300.
|
|
|
|
Stelios, through labored breath, his own blood-running into
|
|
his eyes, calls to his King. Just feet away.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
My King.
|
|
|
|
Each breath pain rising from within him.
|
|
|
|
STELIOS
|
|
It's an honor to die at your side.
|
|
|
|
Leonidas rises looking down at Stelios.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
It's an honor to have lived at
|
|
yours.
|
|
101.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Countless archers bend bows as if the very earth around the
|
|
dwindling Spartan ranks was not made of stone, scrub grass
|
|
and cliff, but of bent ash, cat gut, and hungry iron arrow
|
|
tips.
|
|
|
|
We are CLOSE TO Leonidas' lips, chapped and splattered with
|
|
dark blood.
|
|
|
|
A Persian Commander nods to the herald. He inhales deeply.
|
|
Leonidas is calm. His voice lowers.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
My Queen ... my wife.
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: The HORN. Nesting birds take flight. Leonidas'
|
|
lips move, a whisper of reverence.
|
|
|
|
LEONIDAS
|
|
My love ...
|
|
|
|
The arrows are released as one. The lethal dark cloud races
|
|
across the rugged and bloody battlefield. Stelios narrows
|
|
his eyes and with his last breath, stands next to his King.
|
|
|
|
The ARROWS STRIKE a single ...
|
|
|
|
DRUM STROKE.
|
|
|
|
BLACKNESS.
|
|
|
|
|
|
73 EXT. SPARTA HAYFIELD - DAY 73
|
|
|
|
At the edge of the city. Gorgo stands waist-deep in the
|
|
amber hay, it moves around her, pushed and slanted by a
|
|
late summer wind.
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|
|
|
The sun is low in the West. Gorgo has come to this spot
|
|
many times. Her brown eyes scanning the low hills. A figure
|
|
appears at the edge of the field. The light coming over his
|
|
back as he moves toward her. His shadow loosely moves among
|
|
the hay before him. He walks.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Dilios, his battered form, a testament to his
|
|
valor. Shield rutted and the cut bronze has peeled back to
|
|
reveal oak. His helmet is dented and tarnished. The dried
|
|
blood on his makeshift eye patch.
|
|
|
|
He stands before his Queen alone. Her eyes a thousand
|
|
questions.
|
|
|
|
They share a silent moment of grief. She knows without word
|
|
the fate of her husband.
|
|
102.
|
|
|
|
|
|
He does not reach into pocket or pouch. He simply raises
|
|
his hand from his hip, turns his palm upward and opens it.
|
|
There resting in the cut and calloused hand of Dilios is
|
|
the wolf tooth necklace.
|
|
|
|
Gorgo holds out her hands. Eyes welling. Dilios lets it
|
|
fall then closes his hands around hers. He squeezes gently.
|
|
She looks down and away. Her face binding in grief. Dilios
|
|
watches her, feeling his own pain.
|
|
|
|
He moves on, leaving her framed by the waving grass. Her
|
|
body begins to shake. She drops to her knees. Her nose
|
|
runs, all her Spartan reserve lost.
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: A boy hurrying past Dilios without a look. The
|
|
King's son, Pleistarchos, runs, hay brushing at his knees
|
|
as he rushes to his mother's side.
|
|
|
|
Dilios turns watching from a distance. Pleistarchos reaches
|
|
her, they embrace. Gorgo's face red and wet with tears as
|
|
she looks at him, seeing her husband's eyes.
|
|
|
|
Her love.
|
|
|
|
She then takes the leather necktie and places it over her
|
|
son's head. He bows, letting it come to rest at his chest.
|
|
|
|
His small fingers touching it. Pleistarchos puts his hand
|
|
on his mother's face, gently wiping away her tears.
|
|
|
|
Dilios watches as the dark figures in the bright hay
|
|
embrace again. He nods silently to himself and turns.
|
|
|
|
|
|
74 INT. SPARTAN COUNCIL CHAMBER 74
|
|
|
|
Dilios still bloodied from battle, chin down, brow knitted.
|
|
Lives each moment again. His voice ECHOING from the stone
|
|
walls. Dilios stands at the center of the round room.
|
|
|
|
WE MOVE: WITH him, rotating slowly.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Remember us ... as simple an order
|
|
as a King can give. Remember why we
|
|
died.
|
|
|
|
The faces of the Spartan gallery are riveted. This is the
|
|
very reason why this room was built.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
103.
|
|
|
|
|
|
For he did not wish tribute or
|
|
song, nor monuments, nor poems of
|
|
war and valor. His wish was simple.
|
|
Remember us ... He said to me ...
|
|
that it was his hope should any
|
|
free soul come across that place.
|
|
|
|
|
|
75 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY 75
|
|
|
|
WE MOVE: SLOWLYACROSS a still life of death. Spartan
|
|
brothers all lay beset with arrows too numerous to count.
|
|
|
|
And as we hear Dilios' voice, we are reminded it is his
|
|
voice which has lead us all along.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
In all the countless centuries yet
|
|
to be ...
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: Spartan after Spartan, eyes locked in death stares,
|
|
laying atop one another.
|
|
|
|
Stelios. Dozens upon dozens of arrows pin him to the shield
|
|
he lays upon. One clear eye peers towards the sky. The
|
|
other put out by Persian spindle.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... may all our voices whisper to
|
|
you from the ageless stones.
|
|
|
|
At the center of this scene of heroic dead, arms
|
|
outstretched upon the blood-soaked ground in a Christ-like
|
|
pose, lays the Spartan King.
|
|
|
|
WE MOVE: SLOWLY UPWARD, LOOKING DOWN ON Leonidas, his body
|
|
riddled with arrows.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
Go tell the Spartans, passerby ...
|
|
|
|
We CONTINUE TO RISE UNTIL ... WE SEE: All of the fallen
|
|
300.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS (V.O.)
|
|
... that here by Spartan law we
|
|
lie!
|
|
|
|
|
|
76 EXT. CAMPFIRES OF WAR - CLOSE ON DILIOS' FACE - DAWN 76
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: The wounds have heeled. He wears a leather eye
|
|
patch. Firelight and the blue ambience of dawn mix.
|
|
104.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
And so my King died, and so my
|
|
brothers died, barely a year ago
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
All around the fire now stand, ready for war, capes the
|
|
color of blood, helmets and shields surround Dilios.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Long I pondered my King's cryptic
|
|
talk of victory. Time has proven
|
|
him wise.
|
|
|
|
Dilios begins to push through the Spartan warriors. They
|
|
follow him from the fire.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
For from free Greek to free Greek
|
|
the word was spread that bold
|
|
Leonidas and his three hundred, so
|
|
far from home, laid down their
|
|
lives not just for Sparta ...
|
|
|
|
WE FOLLOW: Dilios as he continues, the sea of Spartans
|
|
making way for him as he moves slowly, taking time to clasp
|
|
shoulder with hand, meeting eyes with nods.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
... but for all Greece and the
|
|
promise this country holds.
|
|
|
|
Shields are pulled aside and from a wall of fresh bronze,
|
|
with dawn breaking in fingers of golden light, Dilios steps
|
|
out in front of the Spartan line. He strides slowly with
|
|
confidence along the barrier of shields. A forest of spears
|
|
reach back into the distance, pointing skyward.
|
|
|
|
A young SQUIRE hands Dilios his shield and spear. Eyes burn
|
|
with battle lust as Dilios, never far from this tableau of
|
|
Spartan bronze, continues.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Now, here on this rugged patch of
|
|
Greece called Plataea, Xerxes'
|
|
hordes face obliteration!!!
|
|
|
|
WE HEAR: A collective cry answering Dilios.
|
|
|
|
SPARTANS
|
|
Haaawooo!
|
|
105.
|
|
|
|
|
|
A cry like rolling thunder spreading across the Spartan
|
|
ranks. LOWFLUTES begin to play a haunting melody, joined by
|
|
slow rhythmic DRUMMING of SPEAR on SHIELD.
|
|
|
|
Dilios spins, pointing with spear out across the barren
|
|
landscape that lay before him.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Just there ... the barbarians
|
|
huddle. Sheer terror gripping
|
|
tight. Their hearts with icy
|
|
fingers knowing full well what
|
|
merciless horror they suffered at
|
|
the spears and swords of 300 ...
|
|
|
|
Dilios turns back to the line of men. It disappears into
|
|
the distance on both sides of him.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
... yet they stare now across the
|
|
plain at 10,000 Spartans commanding
|
|
30,000 free Greeks.
|
|
|
|
Again he is answered with a thunderclap.
|
|
|
|
WE RISE: UP FROM Dilios to reveal a sea of men stretching
|
|
out over the rolling hills. Thousands upon thousands of
|
|
Spartan shields blaze with the rising sun.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
The enemy outnumber us a paltry
|
|
three to one. Good odds for any
|
|
Greek.
|
|
|
|
Dilios nods into his helmet. He takes hold of his spear and
|
|
shield, melting back into the phalanx.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
This day we rescue a world from
|
|
mysticism and tyranny. We usher in
|
|
a future brighter than anything we
|
|
can imagine!!
|
|
|
|
Dilios lowers his chin, gripping tightly the leather on his
|
|
shield and as one in rhythm with the flutes, the spears of
|
|
the Spartan war machine drop into position.
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
Give thanks, men, to Leonidas and
|
|
the brave 300.
|
|
|
|
His eyes narrow, his teeth clench. Muscle and will become
|
|
one.
|
|
106.
|
|
|
|
|
|
DILIOS
|
|
To Victory!!!
|
|
|
|
WE SEE: The Spartan wall of death coming in full run.
|
|
Crimson CAPES SNAPPING behind them, the GROUNDSHAKING.
|
|
|
|
Feet pound and churn the earth to dust and as it thunders
|
|
TOWARD us, a razor-sharp spear tip just PASSES us, we
|
|
TRAVEL DOWN its length TO the Hoplites' eyes, full of hate,
|
|
glinting inside bronze, and then a shield FILLS OUR VIEW.
|
|
|
|
FADE TO BLACK.
|
|
|
|
THE END
|
|
|