‘Look there!’ he said. ‘They have taken your bait, Themistocles.’ Cimon looked on him in awe then, with no more of the mocking ‘father’ or ‘old man’.

Out beyond the tumult of the battle, hundreds of ships had broken free of the main group and begun to row, moving south. Themistocles watched them like a man in a fever dream, hardly daring to believe they would not yet stop and dash his hopes. All three Athenians waited until the Persian galleys were clearly heading right around Salamis, until there was no doubt the Persians had committed to the manoeuvre.

‘We could not hope to defeat so many before, Xan!’ Themistocles said. ‘But now? We have eight or ten hours – with luck, until tomorrow’s dawn. In this moment, if we commit everything we have, perhaps we can break through those who remain. Athena and Poseidon watch what we do.’

‘I hope so,’ Xanthippus said. ‘Very well.’

He nodded as he considered the opportunity the ruse had won for them. Xerxes had sent fresh ships away from the battle. If it could be won before they returned to the fight, perhaps it would not matter which direction they came from. It was a narrow advantage and he understood it had been Themistocles who had won it for them.

For the briefest of moments, Xanthippus clasped hands with the other two. None of them needed speeches, or to be reminded of the stakes. Their people watched and the ships of Persia still swarmed like shrimp in the strait.

Xanthippus turned and took a long step back across, steadied in the arms of his own hoplites. The keleustai on both ships had heard every word. As soon as Xanthippus took command of his galley once more, that deck officer was yelling for rowers to make ready. A great rattle of timbers began to sound below.

‘Loose those ropes!’ Themistocles roared. ‘The order is to attack! Pass the word. Every group, every ship. No rest! No one stops until it is over. Follow orders! No quarter, no mercy. No end, until we are victorious.’

Cimon leaped across to his own galley, his men easing the ships apart with spears while ropes were gathered in great loops. Dark water showed between the three ships and oars rattled out again like bristles, the crews eyeing one another in grim concentration. The enemy still clustered at the mouth of the strait. With clear orders, three squadrons formed to face them, gathering stray ships as they went. Themistocles and the Spartans formed the right wing with sixty galleys. Xanthippus made the centre with at least as many. Cimon gathered in the battered Corinthians with twenty more of his own on the left, in massed lines of ships.