Xanthippus could not stand there and hear Athens defamed. Though his heart raced, he stood tall and called across that place.

‘Regent Pausanias! I came as envoy of Athens to answer your concerns. Will you read ill will into that as well?’

The crowd turned to see who dared to speak. For a dozen desperate heartbeats that lasted a mere instant, Xanthippus felt more alone than he had ever done before. Pausanias bent his head and murmured briefly with the soothsayer.

‘Come forward, Athenian,’ Pausanias ordered after an airless pause.

Xanthippus felt pressure from behind that made it clear he would go, regardless of his will. He heard Cimon growl a response to something, but the small group of Athenians were made to move through the rest, brought to the foot of the speaker’s stone, so that they looked up at Pausanias.

‘We were to meet at noon,’ Xanthippus found himself saying. ‘Though I saw the crowds coming here …’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Pausanias said, waving his words away. The man seemed to look out on the world with one raised eyebrow, Xanthippus saw. Aristides had described the expression very well. ‘It seems I must travel to Athens this very day, to see what damage has been done. Who would have thought the Persians had the subtlety to turn Athens against us? With such an army, I’d have expected them simply to rest through winter and attack in spring. Yet they spend the cold months plotting and filling the mouths of allies with gold.’

‘I …’ Xanthippus blinked. ‘You are travelling to Athens?’

He thought Pausanias might not reply. The man’s expression was hard, as if carved of flint.

‘I have dealt honourably with your people, Athenian. I met your man Aristides, in Eleusis. He pleaded with me to remember our oaths. Is that not why you are here? Perhaps it is time for Sparta to remind Athens of the same! There will be no peace signed between Persia and Athens!’

As Xanthippus struggled to understand the new information, Pausanias raised his voice to address the crowd once more.

‘I will take word to them. While I am gone, my father, Cleombrotus, is in command of all war forces of Sparta, all Spartiates, perioikoi and helots. He stands regent for Pleistarchus, son to Leonidas. Look to King Leotychides, the ephors and the gods. Be vigilant. Obey.’

Men and women knelt, heads bowed across the acropolis, revealing the four Athenians, standing awkwardly. Cimon exchanged a stubborn glance with Xanthippus, pleased to see no give in the other man. With Relas and Onesimos, they endured silent Spartan hostility to stand with their heads unbowed. Cimon shrugged. Pausanias was not his king.

‘If you are leaving today, Majesty,’ Xanthippus said, ‘I shall return with you. My concern was to have you understand why Athens feels we have to fight. Seeing my city will speak more clearly than I ever could.’