The king of Macedon paused again, as if he acted in a drama. There was no idle talk at that moment and Aristides was annoyed at the artifice of it. The Macedonian was enjoying his position a little too much. Macedon was a poor place in the north, an envious neighbour. Perhaps that was it. Athens burned was still greater than any of his own cities, if indeed ‘city’ was not too grand a name for them.

‘“If you offer yourselves as vassals, if you offer earth and water as is our custom, accepting Xerxes as your ruler and master of Greece, I will spare you the war that is coming. You will pay taxes to Persia. You will provide hoplites for her imperial armies. You will accept officials from the empire to administer your cities. But in return, your women and children will be spared, your temples will not burn, your gods will remain untouched. Your lives will continue as they were. What does it matter whose face is on your coins? What does it matter who rules you? This is my offer – one I do not need to make. I command a host of hosts, an army unbeaten. Yet I would show mercy – as it has been shown to loyal Hellene states already. There is your proof of our goodwill. I ask only obedience, on behalf of my king. Or war. My answer depends on yours.”’

Alexander sighed out a long breath and rolled up the sheet once more. In a louder voice, he spoke.

‘I will make this available to you, to read again. I have been told to wait for your answer.’

‘And you will wait, because you are a vassal of Persia,’ Themistocles said.

The Macedonian king stared coldly at him, but Themistocles had only scorn in his gaze.

It was the man’s Persian companion who murmured something at Alexander’s shoulder, making him nod.

‘Yes, you should listen to your friend there,’ Themistocles said. Aristides tapped him once more on the foot. He ignored it. ‘Leave your scroll. We’ll discuss it when you have gone. Go on, Macedonian. This is a rock for free men only. You are not one of us.’

In answer, the Macedonian king threw the scroll at Themistocles’ feet and turned on his heel, striding back down the hill. Aristides picked it up and grunted in irritation.

‘What did you gain by that?’ Aristides asked.

Themistocles looked surprised.

‘Satisfaction. I cannot bear to breathe the same air as that man. Macedon should have stood with us, not kissed the sandals of a foreign king.’

‘Do you not see what they did to Athens?’ Aristides demanded. ‘Perhaps he wished to avoid such a fate for his people. Perhaps Alexander had no ships to take his people to safety.’

Aristides was caught in indecision. He felt he needed to go after the Macedonian party making their way down, yet half the crowd were hanging on his words, looking for leadership.