Aristides watched Pausanias laughing at something one of the Corinthians said. They had all brought their own supplies, so that the table groaned under as odd an assortment of dishes as he had ever seen. Aristides saw the Spartans only picked at the food, making it harder for the men around them to fill their creaking stomachs as they wished.

He found himself fascinated by the Spartan forces. They shared nothing of their training and rituals with the rest of the world, as a matter of policy. Those who heard their orders on the field of battle tended to be killed before they could write down those observations. Yet when one like Aristides marched alongside, even for just a day, it was hard not to pick up a few things. Aristides thought he had learned at least as much as anyone in Athens knew. He was certain by then that they organised around units of just thirty-six, eighteen pairs of men, commanded by one officer. He had heard the word ‘enomotarch’, but was not yet sure if it matched the role. Those small groups fascinated him. He had begun to take note of matching shield bosses, then to count patches on the red cloaks. Once he had learned to look for them, they were suddenly always there. Those tight groups seemed to act almost independently, eating and repairing kit as a group. He felt privileged to see them. The Spartans were masters of war, after all. He might have felt the same in the presence of a great playwright or potter.

He had estimated the number of helots as well, a force that far outnumbered their Spartan masters. Aristides remembered the advice he had given to Tisamenus – to bring them all out with the army rather than leave them behind. He assumed it had been followed. Surely there could not be others still in Sparta! Some of the helots carried shields for the warriors; others, just tools, food, cloaks, anything that might be useful. They loped along behind their masters, fit as deer. Aristides hoped they had courage as well, that they would not break and run when they were asked to attack. The helots would not be allowed to stand apart when battle came, he was certain of that.

It was all a far cry from the Athenian phalanx, the terrible push from behind that crammed them all in and forced them to advance, advance, advance. Aristides shuddered at a memory of Marathon, feeling the hairs on his neck and forearms stand up. Or was it just the night’s cold. He told himself it was.

Each of the Hellene groups had different structures and names for their officers. Yet they all carried shield and spear. Even in that, the Athenian dory was the longest. Aristides knew exactly how Themistocles would have commented on that. At times, it surprised Aristides to miss the vulgar old thug.