‘That will do, lads,’ he called across their heads. ‘An honour guard is a fine thing. My mother would be very proud. To your places now, with my thanks. Now, who is epistates today? Which of you fine fellows has won that honour? Is it you, with that extraordinary beard? Step forward and show yourself, then! Let them see you.’

Aristides and Cimon stood together, watching Themistocles light up the crowd. Smiles spread as he spoke. It was his own kind of defiance and it was hard not to love him for it.

‘Do you think he can save himself?’ Cimon said, his voice very low.

Aristides glanced at him. Over the years, he had watched Cimon grow from a pitiful drunk to a leader of men. The war had revealed him, made him a man his father would have been proud to know.

‘I think he has one chance,’ Aristides said, ‘to throw himself on the mercy of the Assembly. He has chosen instead to give them nothing. It is a … brave decision, but, no. The people are angrier than he realises. They want someone to bring down, some great name to blame for their troubles and their losses, for their grief and all those they will not see again. I am not proud of them today, though I believe I understand them.’ He thought for a moment and amended his words. ‘I believe I understand us .’

As he spoke, more and more of the crowd pressed in, until the Scythians had to turn people back, sending them down to the lower slopes. Some of those began to shout, having come so far only to find their way blocked by spear-lengths. The mood changed like a cloud passing over the sun and the smiles around Themistocles vanished.

Themistocles looked over the heaving mass of citizens from the height of the speaker’s stone and shook his head like a twitch before he summoned his will and made himself confident and calm. The epistates for that day was indeed the massively bearded Athenian who had raised his hand before. At Themistocles’ side, he stepped forward to address the people.

‘Be silent now, please. Silence! The Assembly is convened,’ the epistates announced. He waited for stillness, though it seemed to take an age. ‘Those who are present, will you accept your sacred charge: to act with honour and with justice, in accordance with the laws of Athens and the gods?’