He saw Nicodemus roll his eyes and Themistocles let his mouth become a thin line. They owed him honour for creating the fleet.

‘We live with the knowledge that they will come. Yet they have not. I think sometimes the rise in unrest here is part of that. Two murders just yesterday! I do not remember such things in my youth, not when we had hunger and thirst to occupy us. No, these days, our people wait with the ground shaking beneath our feet, never knowing if the roof will fall in.’ He began to pace once more, his hands clasped behind him. ‘Now you say it is upon us? By Athena, we are not ready.’

‘Even so, they will come,’ the old man said. ‘If the gods decree it, that will be the end.’

Themistocles stared at Nicodemus, wondering if it was age or a weakness of character.

‘No. If they come … when they come, we will break them on foot as we did at Marathon. Our fleet will destroy them at sea. I swear it.’

‘We are too few,’ Archon Nicodemus replied, shaking his head.

Themistocles said nothing at first. He had seen the council of archons as an irritant for some time. He realised they were looking to him for answers. They had woken the Persian lion and the beast was coming. They were terrified.

‘Send word to Sparta, then,’ he said. ‘They refused to give water and earth to the Persians, just as we did. Send word to Thebes, to Corinth – wherever there are men willing to take up the hoplon shield and long spear. They are Hellenes, as we are. Call on that kinship of blood. Tell them to train and build fitness, to sharpen their swords. Be sure they know the enemy is coming and threatens us all.’

‘Even to the cities that welcomed the Persian envoys? Traitors will not fight,’ Nicodemus said softly.

‘Then they are fools. A flame does not spare one house over another, not when the whole city burns. Either way, if they come, we will meet them. Athens will lead Greece. At sea, on land.’

‘I will pray for storms, or that the Persian king goes the way of his father,’ Nicodemus said.

Themistocles shrugged.

‘Why not? We thought they would march four years ago, but then Darius died and all the whispers stopped. We could be as blessed again.’

He chuckled, though there was not much humour in it.

‘Either way, if they send a small force, as at Marathon, we will crush them. If they send a great host, they will starve before they ever reach Greece. Persian soldiers cannot grow wings and fly like harpies! Have you any idea how long it would take Persian ships and fishing boats just to row them across the Hellespont to Thrace? Years, gentlemen. I tell you, the first ones will starve or grow white-haired waiting for the rest! Really, how many can they even bring against us?’