It was a light and airy place, with sun streaming in and the noise of the market nearby. Themistocles had intended to lounge on one of the benches as Aristides and Xanthippus were shown in, a figure clearly and magnificently unworried. Yet when the doors were opened, he found himself rising to his feet as if pulled on a rope.

The two men who entered looked fit, he thought. In comparison, Themistocles was paler than either of them. He said nothing as the councillors backed from the room and closed the doors. He had asked for a private meeting, though he thought there would still be ears somewhere. The only true privacy lay under the sun, in the open air.

Aristides wore a new robe of white linen. It seemed to have irritated the skin at his neck, where a raw red stripe showed. Themistocles watched as the man caught sight of him and approached, taking a seat a few spaces further along. From that side, they could look out onto the Agora, with its busy crowds and street sellers.

‘I give you greeting, Aristides,’ Themistocles said formally.

Before Aristides could reply, Xanthippus was striding up to where they sat, using the benches as steps. He carried no weapon except his anger, but Themistocles felt the stone behind his knees even so. He could not retreat, would not.

‘I called you both from exile,’ Themistocles said quickly. ‘I demanded an emergency vote and won it, with Cimon’s help.’

‘You cost me seven years,’ Xanthippus said.

His voice was hoarse, but in speaking the words, the anger faded. Themistocles had lost some of the cocky arrogance he remembered. There were new lines on the man’s face and in the stoop of his shoulders. Xanthippus scowled in confusion. Where was the laughing kurios he had known before?

‘You would have remained for three more had I not called you back,’ Themistocles said. ‘Let there be only honesty between us. Strike me if you want, but then sit down and listen. Don’t stand and glare. We don’t have time for that.’

‘Why would I strike you?’ Xanthippus said in sharp triumph. ‘Are you behind it all, then?’

‘Come and sit, Xanthippus,’ Aristides said. ‘Let us hear what he has to say.’

Xanthippus clenched his fists, though Themistocles was so broad across the shoulders, it was hard to imagine knocking him down. It would certainly take more than one blow. He hoped the same was true of himself.

‘I am glad we found you,’ Themistocles said.

He could not quite bring himself to sit down while Xanthippus stood breathing hard and still looking as if he might run mad. Instead, the two men stood facing one another awkwardly.

‘I sent men to fetch you, but somehow your wife already had word. She must have been on the road before the Assembly had even finished voting.’

‘Do not speak of my wife,’ Xanthippus said.

Themistocles nodded, staying silent and wary. Time stretched as neither man gave way.