They cheered that, some of them, though it was no full-throated roar. They were afraid, he realised. The angry accusations of him having overstepped his authority were all because they were afraid.

‘We have people watching in the north,’ Themistocles continued, ‘ready to gallop in with the news. When their army appears, we will march to meet them. Athens and Sparta and Corinth and all the rest of our alliance. An alliance you sent me to secure for the Assembly. If the price of that is Sparta in command, I am willing to pay it – and a thousand times more. I stood as the representative of this Assembly and I gave over the command.’

‘What of the fleet?’ someone called in anger.

Themistocles felt his finger throbbing as the first pain died away, leaving him drained. He knew the fleet better than any man. It was the source of his authority in Athens, with over thirty thousand employed and paid as rowers. The entire city seemed to work on his ships in some role or other – certainly the bulk of the Assembly. They thanked Themistocles for that wage and took pride in the labour. On that day, it seemed they felt he had given their service to Sparta, that he had thrown them aside like an old lover. Of course, the one thing he could not say was that he had no intention of following a bad Spartan order. No, he realised. He had to say something or he would lose them.

‘We will have over three hundred ships in our alliance. A fleet of Hellenes, of rowers and hoplites and archers and bronze rams. I will be there, among you. Cimon, too, will have command of a dozen ships.’

He looked to the younger man as if in question, though it was all agreed. Only his youth had limited Cimon to so few. Cimon nodded, accepting.

‘With me will be Eurybiades of Sparta,’ Themistocles went on. ‘No, gentlemen! Are you geese? You demean yourselves with your hissing, no other! You will treat that name with honour. Eurybiades stands with us, as all Sparta stands with us. There is no place for petty rivalries, not this year. We stand together or we die alone. Understand that! There is no retreat, no place where we can retire to lick our wounds. This Persian king comes for us. He comes to burn, rape and murder. He comes to own, to make all Greeks slaves. I tell you, there is no hiding place.’

He paused a beat.

‘The senior officers will put our fleet where it can bring oars and rams and force of arms to bear. Like a spear thrown to kill a running man, we will send them to the bottom of the sea. Yet in the end, it will come down to the crews. You know it better than I do. When battle is joined, your ships will be on your own, hunting like hawks and leopards. You will hole one enemy and pull back, faster and more cleanly than any of their poor slave rowers. Or you will board and make their decks red, then burn their hulls and go on! Will it matter then whether a Spartan or an Athenian brought you to the battle? You will know I am watching, regardless!’