With a grunt of pain, Ariphron rolled onto his back, looking up at the sky. Xanthippus felt the world steady around him. He breathed in short gasps and rose to limp a single step towards his son. He lowered himself onto one knee at Ariphron’s side. His own wound was just a trickle of bright red, though he saw dirt in it. Yet he could not think of his own pain, the strange daze that had stolen his wits along with his blood. He thought of Miltiades years before, who had died of a wound just like his.

‘Let me have a look,’ Epikleos said gently to Pericles.

The boy leaned back and Epikleos examined the spot along Ariphron’s ribs. He had known Ariphron all his life, Xanthippus realised. He too had carried him on his shoulders and run around the back field. When Xanthippus had been exiled for seven years, it had been Epikleos who’d become a second father to the boys.

They accepted him, Xanthippus saw. Both Ariphron and Pericles looked to Epikleos in trust as he examined the wound. Yet there was a great sadness in his eyes, despite their hope. Xanthippus saw it when Epikleos turned to him and gave a tiny shake of the head. It felt like a betrayal and his strength surged. Xanthippus scrambled forward and lifted Ariphron, pulling him onto his lap.

‘No,’ Xanthippus said, suddenly hoarse. ‘You will not go.’

As he sat there, he could feel blood still coming, a warmth that was spreading across his lap.

‘I am sorry,’ Ariphron murmured. He saw the tears in his father’s eyes and fear bloomed in him. ‘Is it bad?’

Xanthippus could not speak. It was not such a great wound, but it was as deep as a sword-thrust and it had slipped between his son’s ribs. Blood rushed from him, unceasing.

‘It is not too bad,’ he said. ‘We’ll wait until it stops bleeding and then get you back to the ships.’

Ariphron relaxed, though Pericles had seen the exchange between Epikleos and his father. His mouth was open as he looked back and forth, his eyes shining.

‘I am … very proud of you,’ Xanthippus said. ‘I do not say that enough, but it has always been true. Do you know that?’

‘I know,’ Ariphron said. ‘I have always known.’

He grew still as he understood. Xanthippus saw him sigh and accept it. Awareness stole through him, creeping. They could not pretend it was just a wound, not any longer.

‘I did everything right,’ Ariphron said. His eyes were dark and Xanthippus was not sure the young man could even see him any longer. ‘I tried so hard to be a man you could admire.’