‘If you wish it, yes. With your permission, Epikleos and …’ he waited for Cimon to nod, ‘Cimon here will command the centre. I have taken the liberty of sending runners further inland to seek out the enemy. They cannot hide so many from us.’

‘Perhaps they have … run away,’ Leotychides said.

Xanthippus nodded. It actually was possible – the Persians had abandoned their ships, after all. Yet he thought of the ambush poor Miltiades had sprung years before. Cimon looked bleak as he surveyed the rising land ahead. From where they stood, it was impossible to say what lay behind the treeline. For Miltiades, it had been an overwhelming force of Persians and the end of all his hopes.

Xanthippus spoke as if he made an oath.

‘Then they should keep running, Majesty. It is my intention to make an ending here. As soon as our own ships are clear, I will … with your permission … fire their ships. There will be no way back to sea, not for them.’

‘Very well. Carry on,’ Leotychides said.

Xanthippus bowed to him, the gesture copied by Cimon and Epikleos. The four men clasped hands briefly, testing one another and finding something to reassure. When Leotychides reached his Spartans on the right wing, he raised a hand, ready to give the order.

One of the scouts was coming back in at a sprint. Xanthippus held up a palm to the Spartan. He waited for the lad to get his breath back and bent a head to listen.

‘They are … just inland, formed up and waiting for us. Fifteen or twenty thousand. No horsemen …’

Xanthippus nodded. They could have run, but he had not expected them to. A memory came to him suddenly, of a fight when he was young. He’d chased a lad through half a dozen streets in Athens, until the boy had reached his own home and touched his foot to the threshold. Though he had run before, the lad had turned then, choosing to face his fate. Xanthippus had seen his resolve – and somehow admired it. As the boy’s mother bustled up, he’d let him have the day, retreating with laughter and shouts. They had been boys then. It was different now.

He sent the runner over to Leotychides, another to Cimon and Epikleos. After what seemed an age, they had all heard and raised their hands, signalling they were ready to move. Xanthippus drew in a massive breath.

‘Enemy in range! Shields ready! Spears ready … Forward!’

He let the first two ranks pass him before he eased into the third, beside Ariphron. Xanthippus glanced back to where Pericles walked in his brother’s shadow, standing tall despite the weight of the shield and a spear in each hand.