The king of Sparta walked well over sand, Xanthippus noted. He smiled at the thought that all men judge another’s fitness for battle, as they meet, and every moment after that. That subtle assessment might have been wasted on a summer evening in Athens. There though, on a hostile coast, it pleased him to see King Leotychides like a great cat, in perfect balance. The Spartan wore a long red cloak and a bronze helmet with a white plume. Beyond that, only a leather cord crossed his thigh, with sandals, greaves, shield and spear in hand. The hair at his head, chest and penis was iron grey, in tight curls. Though he must have been in his sixties, Leotychides looked supremely fit. Xanthippus bowed his head to one of royal rank.

‘I see no more than six thousand men here, Xanthippus,’ King Leotychides said. ‘With so many empty ships, the Persians must have landed many more.’

‘Most are just oarsmen,’ Epikleos said.

The Spartan king flickered a glance in his direction, judging him. After a moment, he inclined his head.

‘Even so. Our oarsmen remain aboard.’

Xanthippus waited a beat. The hoplites were silent, stretching away in ranks that included his own sons. He had not held anything back. It occurred to him that this was a man who had dealt with Leonidas for decades, the great battle king of Sparta. For all his personal strength, Leotychides was not used to making decisions of war, the ones that could not be recalled, that led to life or death. It was an interesting insight and Xanthippus gentled his tone as he replied.

‘Majesty, the ones who stand with us are all veteran hoplites, the best of Greece – armed and armoured. I would wager any one of them against a dozen oarsmen with clubs or daggers. Trained men go through untrained, as lions against dogs. Your own bodyguard of three hundred will show the way in that, I am sure.’

The king dipped his head, accepting the point as Xanthippus continued.

‘Our oarsmen are fit, but untrained. They would be like lambs to Persian soldiers, just as their oarsmen will be to us.’

He paused, wanting the Spartan to know how seriously he took the position.

‘I would prefer, Majesty, to keep the fleet manned, not risk our crews in this sort of work. However, I accept your command,’ Xanthippus said. ‘If it is your wish, I will disembark ten thousand more to march with us. They do have knives, after all.’

The Spartan king waved a hand.

‘No, the point is well made, Xanthippus. I am grateful for your consideration. Very well. I imagine these men will rise to the task. The right flank is mine, of course. You’ll hold the left?’

It was as much question as order and Xanthippus nodded.