Xanthippus watched as Pericles swung from a rope tied to a single yard across the mast. The boy was not yet as agile as some of the more experienced crew, but he was learning fast. Ariphron seemed happier on the deck, though when Pericles needled him, he had shown his younger brother what months more sword practice actually meant. Their sparring had drawn a crowd of cheering hoplites. Pericles had taken being beaten well enough, until Ariphron rapped him across the knuckles with the flat of his blade and made him drop his sword. Ariphron claimed it then as a spoil of war and refused to give it back. Xanthippus had heard the details from Epikleos, but as neither son had asked him to rule on their behalf, he had done nothing.

The fleet led by King Leotychides of Sparta was experienced enough to avoid open sea. No one ever crossed the deep waters of the Aegean, where a storm could spring from nowhere. Instead, like the Argonauts or Odysseus, they rowed and sailed island to island, taking known routes where each destination could be sighted either from on board, or from a mountain climbed on land. Their progress was slow and steady, east from Athens, along the merchant path between the islands of Syros and Tenos, with Mykonos in the distance. Every time they saw lights on shore, or fishing boats busy with their catch, they stopped and paid for news of Persian galleys. For three days, there had just been shrugs and shaking of heads. None of the local people wanted anything to do with hoplites or warships of any kind. Their lives went on, with war as a distant thing. Some of them clearly thought it would bring bad luck even to talk of it. They backed away, refusing to speak to the sailors and officers of the fleet.

Xanthippus watched a fishing boat approach, spotting it as something unusual while it was still some way off. Most small boats veered away whenever they caught sight of oared warships. This one made straight for them. He frowned, wondering if the captain was drunk or asleep. Yet there seemed to be a figure upright in the stern, his hand on a rudder. The wind was gentle enough that day. The entire fleet benefited from the shelter of Mykonos, where the waters had turned an extraordinary blue, paler than usual over white sand.

Pericles too had seen the little craft coming. He slid down a rope, burning his hands and landing hard on the deck. The boy gestured and Xanthippus raised a hand to show he knew. Epikleos came up from the hold and Ariphron came to stand by his father, his expression severe. It was unusual enough for some of the other ships to put down small boats from their sterns, seeking news.