The man hesitated even then, his hand making sharp little movements in the air as he tried to weigh opposing authorities. Aristides walked on, forcing him to make a decision. The Scythian had barely time to step aside, his back to the wall. Themistocles could feel the man’s frustration, though Aristides seemed utterly unaware. They passed through into the cool night air and Themistocles pulled in deep breaths, desperately relieved to be free once more.

‘Did you see that?’ he demanded. ‘If I cannot walk wherever I please, how am I not a prisoner?’

Aristides shrugged.

‘I stayed there when they called me. He is just doing what some epistates told him. Until all these trials and inquiries are formally at an end, he does not want to be held responsible for you vanishing in the night. I imagine the crowd would skin him alive tomorrow morning, if you don’t climb the Pnyx.’

Themistocles tilted his head, accepting the point.

‘Still, they should be honouring me. Of all men. I saved them, the ungrateful bastards.’

He heard Aristides sigh and rounded on him, stopping him with a hand on his chest.

‘Well? Why is that so hard to swallow? They cheered Xanthippus! Did I not persuade them to build the fleet he took out? You argued for silver in their hands! If they had voted for that, Aristides, Persia would rule here and we would all be gone. For that alone …’

‘That was years ago,’ Aristides reminded him. ‘The memory of our people is short. They have survived a war since then – evacuation, seeing all they owned burned, losing their loved ones …’

Themistocles waved a hand in frustration, walking on. The air was cold and he drew it in, letting it fill him.

‘A war we could not have won without me! I tell you, Aristides, they’d better remember it tomorrow. I’ll tell them the truth when they question me, with their pursed mouths and sharp little eyes. I’ll tell them exactly what I did – and why they should be grateful to me. They should be sending their most beautiful daughters to my door, not setting Scythians to glower at me when I ask for a cup of wine!’

‘Be calm, Themistocles,’ Aristides said.

He let the other man walk in silence for a time. By night, the Agora was vast and open, with all the street stalls and canopies cleared away. The Acropolis was a block across one part of the sky, so that stars showed around it. It was peaceful enough. There were a few drunks and beggars sleeping here and there, but they would fear violence and were not likely to bother two men walking together.

‘I have other concerns for tomorrow,’ Aristides said at last.

Themistocles turned to him and, under the moonlight, he looked unutterably weary. For all his bluster, he was worried.

‘What have you heard?’ Themistocles said.