‘Nothing can,’ he replied. ‘Not once it has been called. I only wish they had been successful on the first day. He’d have had a better chance then. Instead, the people of the Assembly have heard every rumour, charge and accusation, fair or unfair, detail after detail. They built their case well, I have to say. Your father and I were exiled for less.’

‘Is that it, then?’ Pericles pressed him. ‘Tell me what I can do.’

‘Why, nothing at all,’ Aristides said, making his tone a warning. ‘If there was another pot for his supporters, it would overflow. He has friends and those who love him, Pericles. That was never in doubt. The ones I fear are those who hate him but do not know him. All they know of Themistocles is what they have heard over these days – witness after witness speaking in anger and grief. They no longer believe a word he says and if they are such fools, I cannot change their minds. The law is simple enough.’ He began to quote the line from Cleisthenes, long dead. ‘“If the ekklesia turn against a man, they may vote to banish him for ten years, regardless of name or station, from Athens and all Attica. There is no defence to the will of the people, no appeal. In this way, we defend ourselves against the rise of tyrants.”’

‘That is a hard law to love,’ Pericles said.

Aristides gripped him by the arm.

‘Remember that I stood in this place and heard a judgement from my own people that banished me from Athens. If your father were here, I believe he would say the same. He and I know what it means – and yet neither Xanthippus nor I have tried to change that law. It is the very last defence of the common man.’

Pericles shook his head rather than answer. Aristides let his hand fall, waiting to see how the young Athenian would respond. Cimon had impressed him before. He hoped Pericles would as well. It raised his spirits to know they understood what was important – and what was not.

‘A vote like this took my father from me for seven years,’ Pericles said. He had not enjoyed being grabbed and a flush was still spreading on his face and neck. ‘I was just a child. Did they think of me then, when they voted to send a hero of Marathon away? They did not. Lesser men than my father took all their spite and failures and scratched pieces of pottery with his name. They did the same with you. Honestly, I cannot believe you would defend this. Themistocles did more to save these people than anyone! Yet they would send him away? And for what? Using gravestones to make a gate? Searching their bags for silver when they were being saved by his fleet?’

‘Our fleet,’ Aristides murmured.