‘We have gathered food enough for a month,’ he said. ‘I think it will not hurt to remind the Athenians there is a price for their pride.’

‘We are the storm,’ Artabazus said with a grin. It was the same phrase Mardonius had used to the king of Macedon the night before.

‘We are indeed,’ Mardonius replied. He waited then, while the rain poured down and the regiments trudged up to form drenched ranks before them.

‘What did you think of his prophecy?’ Artabazus asked. He had to raise his voice over the hiss and drum of the rain.

Mardonius shrugged.

‘I do not believe in prophecies, even if he does.’

‘So you will not make him satrap of all Greece? He has been a loyal ally.’

‘I imagine that will be King Xerxes’ choice,’ Mardonius said. ‘It will likely be a Persian – you perhaps, Artabazus, who knows?’

‘You believe the man’s prophecy was wrong, then?’ Artabazus pressed.

Mardonius shot a glance at him.

‘Who knows, really, about such things? I think if his family is destined to rule all Greece, this is the wrong year …’ He chuckled aloud. ‘Or he is the wrong Alexander of Macedon.’

The army that had formed to march south to Athens was vast. The rainstorm moved across them as it might have crossed a range of hills or a great plain. Winter sun speared behind the clouds as Mardonius turned his horse in place.

‘The rain heads south. It is a good omen, I think,’ he said. ‘We are the storm, Artabazus. Let’s remind them of that.’

17

The Persian army came south at the pace of a walking man. Two hundred thousand soldiers were in more danger from starvation or accidental injury than any force that might be sent to stop them. Rations were measured out at every stopping point, with each man guarding his personal bowl carefully. They marched on Athens like the rain that went before them: slow, unstoppable and vast.

Athenian scouts came galloping in ahead of the invaders. They risked their necks and half-killed mounts to win every hour they could. Emergency meetings on the Pnyx went as planned, with each member of the Assembly fully aware of what he had to do. Grim-faced, they set about a second evacuation of the city. There would be no one left behind for enemy soldiers to murder or humiliate.

They could not defend Athens, not without walls, not against so many. That at least was not in doubt. Strategoi and archons wasted no time, but set about instituting the emergency plan. Fleet officers were given the work of shepherding families down to the docks. They lined the road to the sea, urging on or carrying terrified women and children.