Aristides paused halfway up. He was panting, but so were many of the younger men, so he did not let that worry him. He could see the Persian riders had coalesced around the main camp, like a clot of blood in a beef joint. They had collected the bodies of their own, which pleased him. The dead should never be left, nor despoiled. The enemy were not animals, but civilised men. It did not make him hate them less.

As he began to turn away, he caught sight of something moving far off, too far for the Persians below to have seen. Aristides shaded his eyes and squinted. He felt his heart sink when he understood.

A snake of carts was making its way towards their position down on the plain. He did not know if it had been summoned by Pausanias, or was the gift of some community wishing to send food and water to the Greeks. It had to be for them. The Persians had no outposts, no cities that would gather for them, not that year. Unless it was from Thebes. That was almost a worse prospect. If that were the case, it became his duty to intercept their line of supply. It could be the difference between victory and forcing a Persian surrender as they starved. Either way, Aristides knew he had to move against it.

No one down on the plain was aware of the supply caravan, not yet. He had an hour, no more than that. Aristides breathed out, thinking. The helots stood between him and the ridge where Pausanias kept watch. They could carry back whatever food had been brought. He swallowed, suddenly feeling sick. The Persians would react, of course. Stung by the action at the stream, they would surely attack if he came out again. He felt his heart thumping, knowing he had to make a decision in just moments. They needed food and wine to survive, but his instincts cried out against another raid so soon after the last. Yet what if the Persians did come out? That would put them on the plain, with Pausanias and the Spartans on their flank.

Aristides bit the edge of his thumb, his mind racing. What would Themistocles do? No, that answer was clear enough. He would take the risk.

23

Aristides was still composing a message for Pausanias when the Spartan appeared, scrambling down the slope from the higher points. The regent was not the sort to wait for news, not when he could see something was happening. Aristides saw the man’s famous soothsayer was coming down as well, picking his way with more care.

Pausanias was breathing lightly as he came to rest. Aristides nodded to him.

‘Why have you halted?’ Pausanias said. ‘I sent you no new orders. The water has been collected.’

He seemed to glare and Aristides raised his own eyebrow to match the Spartan. Did the man actually think he had come down to rebuke him?