‘He has no right to stand here and threaten you on Athenian land! Eurybiades! Stand down. Remove that sword and give it to me. You are not of a rank to challenge Themistocles, not any longer. Nor do you have authority in Athens!’

Eurybiades kept his gaze on the man he had come to kill. When he spoke, his voice grated with anger.

‘This is … a prior arrangement. Nor is it your business. I will ask one last time, Themistocles. Draw your sword, or I will kill you even so.’

‘That would be dishonourable,’ Xanthippus snapped. ‘And illegal. I forbid it. If you attack an Athenian, I will have you up before the Assembly, Eurybiades.’

‘It is not dishonourable to me ,’ Eurybiades replied, suddenly furious. ‘I gave this man notice I would come. He accepted then, when he could sneer and mock me! Well, I have come! Let him draw his weapon now and I will finish it and walk home. Nothing else is your concern.’

‘He is right,’ Themistocles said softly. Xanthippus turned to him in dismay, but Themistocles held up his hand. ‘By his own lights, he is. Very well, Spartan. What is one more life?’

Slowly, Themistocles drew his sword. It was barely longer than his forearm, a blade for chopping bone or flesh. It shone as he turned it under the noon sun. Xanthippus and Epikleos backed away a couple of paces, all too aware of how easy it was to take a wound as others fought.

‘Let me escort you both to the Pnyx!’ Xanthippus tried again. ‘We’ll let the courts decide this. Why lose a good man? Over what?’

Themistocles realised he had come to the end of all his arguments, all his persuasions. He could almost feel death rushing down on him. Perhaps all those who faced a Spartan in battle felt the same. It would be quite an advantage.

‘Come on then, navarch,’ he said. ‘Do what you came for.’

Eurybiades nodded once. He stood naked. His hair was iron grey. His pectoral muscles had sagged a little; his skin was like freckled leather in folds and creases. Yet he moved well and Themistocles felt cold spread within.

Both men stretched necks and shoulders as they readied themselves. Themistocles waited for the first attack. He needed to know how fast the Spartan was.

When it came, he almost missed it. Eurybiades had been stepping sideways, as if he walked some invisible ring on the grass. With no warning, he closed the distance in two quick steps and Themistocles was suddenly defending himself. The blades rang together twice and Themistocles hissed as he felt a cut along his ribs. He had barely jerked away from seeing his side opened up.