Datis could see the grim faces of the men walking mounts back onboard, into foetid holds with their stalls and filth and rat-infested gloom. Yet they did not complain, nor hold back. The wide, flat beach surrounded by mountains and a marsh had been a perfect place to rest and ready the next strike. Invasion took a toll, on men and equipment alike. Still, they had sacked Eretria easily enough. Once the army had embarked and the ships had been towed out once again, they would sail round the coast to Athens, blockading the city and landing forty thousand veteran soldiers. It was a good thought. In oar-slaves alone, the Persians outnumbered the Hellenes. They would make a fine pyre of their Greek temples, just as those at Sardis had burned.

General Datis smiled as the last of the horse-transports began the laborious process of refloating. Ropes grew taut as they were carried out by small boat to other ships, ready to harness the strength of oars and men and drag the wooden keels off the beach into deep water. It was a delicate task and a nervous one. It was not unknown for entire ships to turn over in the shallows, drowning all those aboard. Datis looked down the sands to where the king watched from the shade and comfort of his pavilion. He sent a prayer to the angels to hold the last ship upright. The Great King was troubled by bad omens, so it was said.

Datis found he had been holding his breath until the last pair of horse-transports rolled precariously in the surf. It was not too far for him to hear angry voices raised amidst the whinnying of horses, but he breathed in satisfaction as the oars settled and began to sweep the ships out.

With the horse transports all safe, the task of embarking the waiting regiments themselves could begin. Sleek triremes circled like sharks, with decks that could be packed with men. Some of them were already coming in, their captains tired of waiting with just the creak of wind and wave and sullen oar-slaves for company. Datis felt himself relax as the first ranks drew up on the beach in formation, ready to go on board. That piece of coast was a perfect natural harbour, protected from the ocean waves that turned men’s stomachs. Datis had seen only gentle waters there since they’d landed the evening before. His men had eaten well and rested, checked equipment and weapons, tallied all they had taken from Eretria and sent back the new slaves. All in a single night, he thought. The empire was efficient. Datis wondered if the Great King would allow him to build a house there, when all Greece had been brought to heel. The view would make a fine prospect on waking.

His gaze was inland, to the plain that stretched away from the coast, blurring into mountains that rose against the horizon. As a result, he was one of the first to see a snake of gold and dust shimmering between the hills from the west. Datis shaded his eyes as he stared into the afternoon sun. He cursed softly as the lazy scouts caught sight at last of the marching force and blew their horns.