‘Have you ever left the Peloponnese before?’ Aristides called, raising his voice to carry to as many as he could reach.

‘It is forbidden, in normal times,’ the young man replied with a shrug. He looked away, ashamed of his own estate and position in the world. He was addressing a free man of Athens and he could not meet his eye.

Aristides shook his head.

‘Tell me then, when will you ever get a chance like this again? If you will not fight for Sparta, fight for Athens! We freed the slaves who took up arms at Salamis. Think of that, today.’

He felt hundreds turn their heads to watch him and swallowed down on shame. Sparta would never free these men, no matter what they did. Freedom was not something they had ever been offered before, even as an idea. Themistocles would have understood, he thought. These were simple men, but he needed them to hold, whatever it took. Even if he had to give them false hope. It was hard to return the awed stares, but he did it.

Ahead of them, Aristides saw a dark line swelling across the land. Dust rose with it, a storm that climbed higher with every step. He swallowed a knot of fear in his throat. The Persians were coming out. His hoplites were just a thin gold line. He suddenly knew he would see them slaughtered, lose his own life, all for a caravan of food. His mind raced. Formation was the key. He had to get it right. He had to …

A hand touched his arm. It was the older of the two helots, the one who had moved away when he’d first spoken.

‘Sparta does not free helots,’ the man said gruffly. ‘Never. There is no hope for us.’

Aristides opened his mouth, but he could not deny it. He could not. When he said nothing, the man nodded, a little sadly.

‘Is it true, though, what you said? Did Athens really free her slaves? We never heard that.’

‘Archon Xanthippus gave his personal oath. Anyone who fought or rowed for us that day was freed. Even one of his personal slaves was freed, as I heard it.’

Aristides knew Themistocles would have found words to manipulate the man. He searched for them, but the helot reached out and patted him on the arm once more, silencing him.

‘Every year they make a great hunt,’ the man said, ‘to keep our numbers down.’

A growl went up from those who listened all around. The memory was hard in them as the man continued.