The council had prepared for the worst from the moment they had returned to burned-out beams and broken gates. Tribe by tribe, families and their slaves had learned where they would go if horns sounded, where they would stand. They could not all rush down to the ships in a panic. It had to be slow.

Themistocles seemed to be everywhere in the crowds at times, reminding them of their duties, calling to mothers to keep their children close. Some still managed to lose themselves, with frantic relatives calling out names. Wailing urchins stood to one side of the road, holding out chubby hands to passers-by.

There were also fights, erupting suddenly as one family objected to being shoved, or men lashed out at one another, caring only for those they loved. Hoplites went in hard then, with clubs or long sticks to lash the crowd. There was no sympathy for those who bled for their impatience, deserved or not. The exodus began in a great stream of men, women and children, tight-lipped and determined.

Bonfires were lit along the coastal hills, kept alight with oil when rain drenched them. Out at sea, patrolling ships saw those points of light and turned immediately for home. Each trierarch, each crew, knew without asking which dock and quay was theirs. It was a plan they had prayed never to deploy, but when word came down, when the enemy sighting had been confirmed, there was no hesitation.

Salamis would be their refuge once again, though it was not the bare place it had been, when women and children had huddled on the dunes. Xanthippus had listened to his wife, as had Themistocles. The result lay in shelters and food stores right across the island. They were unfinished, but they had not expected to need them so soon. The first families began to arrive on packed trireme decks that same morning, stepping ashore and shivering in the wind.

Agariste and her children were among the earliest ones to reach the island, this time accompanied by all the slaves of her household in perfect order, as well as paid servants like Manias and even two stern hoplite guards assigned by her husband. They found her a spot under a long roof, a place resembling a stable, though it was too narrow and roofed in grass so green it was not much protection. Rain was dripping through as they arrived, so that anyone who sat there would surely be miserable. Yet every hour brought hundreds more, then thousands. The people of Athens came down to the port of Piraeus and went quietly onto triremes, enduring mere cold and rain to escape the horrors coming.