His son held out an open hand and Cimon smiled stiffly. Themistocles had been forced to trust him before. He did not enjoy being unarmed with at least three other men. Still, he was a guest. Cimon untied his belt and sword, then put the kopis scabbard on top. Themistocles raised his eyebrows.

‘Are you a Spartan now, to carry that thing?’

Cimon shrugged.

‘They offered me a role as their man in Athens. They sent it to me as a token of that. After you left.’

Themistocles frowned.

‘What did Xanthippus say about that? Or Aristides?’

‘Nothing at all, as I did not ask them,’ Cimon said with stiff dignity. ‘Sparta is our ally, don’t forget – as is Argos, that gave you sanctuary. I met some of their people when I travelled there with Xanthippus …’ He stopped. ‘I did not come here to discuss that, Themistocles.’

‘Sit then and tell me,’ Themistocles said.

He settled his guest in a seat under a heavy wooden table, where he could not easily leap to his feet. Themistocles poured water from a jug, allowing Cimon to wash himself, pressing a clean cloth to his hands and face. When he had removed some of the road dust, Themistocles placed cups on the wood and poured watered wine, while Diocles brought over a platter of goat’s cheese, olives and crusty bread. Cimon bowed his head as he and Themistocles prayed to the goddess Demeter, in thanks for her bounty.

Cimon was starving after days on the road with just a little dried meat and fruit. He longed for bread in particular, murmuring appreciation as he sampled everything, then let his host finish the rest. Themistocles pressed him to try more, and in the end they cleared the platter between them. Only when it was all gone did Themistocles settle back, his hands crossed on the table before him. Cimon nodded. Courtesy had been observed.

‘Aristides has friends among the Eupatridae, in all the noble families, still,’ Cimon said. ‘I came at his request. He has confirmed this … They are to send men to arrest you, Themistocles.’

‘What can they possibly find to accuse me of now?’ Themistocles said. ‘Is my exile not enough for them?’

Cimon grimaced. He had found a man and a household at peace and he knew he was like a stone dropped into a still pool. He hated to deliver this news, but there was no choice.

‘Some of the landowners still blame you for their losses. There is one named Timodemus who cannot hear your name without growing dark and full of blood.’

‘Not that dock search again!’ Themistocles snapped.

Cimon waved a hand.