As the sun rose higher, he could not stand and merely observe any longer, not with Themistocles watching him. Aristides climbed the steps and saw how young men bristled around both Cimon and Themistocles. Their masters patted the air or murmured instructions to them so that they stood back and let Aristides approach. The voting went on as Aristides drew up and halted. Cimon was too drunk and too young to concern him, he decided. Instead, his gaze was on Themistocles.

‘One by one …’ Aristides said. ‘You remove your competitors one by one.’

He waited, but Themistocles only gave the smallest of shrugs, while Cimon scowled in confusion.

‘And what will you do now, Themistocles?’ Aristides asked. ‘Once I have been driven out?’

‘I serve the city, Aristides. I am not responsible for the tides, nor individual votes.’

‘Your answer demeans you. Can you not be honest? Here today, as they vote? Cimon has returned a favour, has he not? He has lent you his support today, with all those who look to him.’ Aristides took a deep breath, calming himself. ‘You have taken my position in the city from me. All I love. Will it be worth it, do you think?’

For the first time, Themistocles flushed, looking embarrassed.

Cimon sneered through his fog.

‘You are the old … generation, Arilsid … Aritsid …’

Both Themistocles and Aristides ignored him.

‘The people fear tyrants, Themistocles, with good reason. They will not let one man rise to rule, not without tearing him down. How long will you last, without me to stand on the other side of the scales? How long before they see you stand alone?’

‘I do not seek power,’ Themistocles said loudly. ‘I don’t interfere at the docks and report back to the council. I don’t speak in every debate as if I am the only adult, as if my opinion is the only one worth hearing.’

‘Your humility is refreshing,’ Aristides said. ‘I’d hoped for honesty from you, but I see there are too many ears around.’

He stepped away to look into the urn. The latest epistates was a stranger to him and didn’t react as he peered in. Aristides nodded to himself.

‘I see enough votes there. Ten days. Very well. I will prepare my estate.’

He was trembling with anger by then, so that he felt light-headed. He did not look at Themistocles again, though he felt the man’s triumphant gaze follow him down and across the Agora.

Aristides unclenched his fists with an effort as he walked through the city he loved. He’d thought Themistocles had understood enough of the Assembly to put aside personal ambition. Athens needed the constant clash of wits to thrive, Aristides believed with a passion. His beloved city was more than just households and a city wall! She was an idea, of rule by the people, hammered on the forge every day, in trials, in debates, even in war. He accepted those laws, even though he knew Themistocles had made them work for his ends.