As if in response to his thoughts, a dozen galleys showing banners chosen by Xanthippus began to surge across his path. Themistocles could see the pattern again and he blessed Xanthippus for it. He called half speed to his rowers rather than risk fouling the hunt ahead, though his heart leapt at the thought of joining them. Who had brought Xanthippus back from exile when Athens needed him? He had. Noble Themistocles, who had put aside his ambition and personal differences to bring home the talents Athens had to have! Xanthippus could be a cold-hearted bastard, it was true, a man given to looking down his nose and assuming the stern air of a Spartan. Still, he had sharpened the fleet like a sword on a whetstone. Three hundred ships with fit crews, working together for the highest stakes. Themistocles had no difficulty admitting the man’s talents. It was the very reason he’d had Xanthippus exiled in the first place. Yet in time of war, strategoi like Xanthippus were invaluable.

Themistocles clenched his fist on the leather grip inside his shield, a spasm of simple savagery, as he might have cheered first blood in a boxing match. Xanthippus and his squadron were tearing into enemy ships. No Persian captain could turn to face two or three galleys coming in hard from different points. As Themistocles watched, he saw one of the enemy approach at full speed, spattering white spray from his oars. Three of the passing squadron turned at the same time, like wolves lunging out of the pack.

The Persian realised his error and heaved his rudder over, but the turn was slow without his oars changing their churn and heave. He only presented his hull, a hunter made prey. Two of the Greek warships hit him then with a great crack of timbers.

As Themistocles passed by, they backed oars, already seeking new targets. Rammed in the heart, with cold sea pouring in, the Persian began to list immediately. Themistocles was close enough to hear a cry of fear go up from the rowers in the hold. Unlike the Greek crews, some of those poor souls were chained to their seats. The ship would take them down as she sank. Themistocles shivered at the thought, though he told himself it was just the sea spray and showed his teeth in a wild grin.

‘Shall we board them, kurios?’ his captain asked, coming up behind to stare past the prow.

Themistocles shook his head, then spoke when he saw the man’s horrified attention was all for the enemy. The sinking galley turned right over. Air bubbled from within and all the screaming choked to silence.

‘It is a little late for that,’ Themistocles said.