Xanthippus breathed long and slow and raised his arm with the rest to be counted. Miltiades noted it, he saw. Amongst all the others, he seemed to spot Xanthippus in that instant. The man missed very little as he looked across the people he would have betrayed, tears shining in his eyes.

10

Xanthippus breathed in the smell of clean new wood as he watched ribs of pine and oak being shaped and lowered into place. The keels of forty new triremes had been laid in cradles all along the shore of the port of Piraeus. All but three had been finished through the winter months, ready for the spring he could already smell in the air. The work was almost at an end and with it came a sense of anticipation. Some of the new fleet were out, the crews training to work together, to learn commands roared in the heat of battle, to stop and turn in just a few lengths, astonishing anyone who saw them move. They would be able to defend themselves against any Persian warship. More, they would be hawks to them.

When the last ones were ready, there would be a final launch, with all the rest in formation on the sea. Galleys of pine, oak and bronze would surge out then, past the sheltered shores and into the deep. Ninety oars to a side in three banks of thirty, sweeping the dark waters of the Aegean. Free men rowed the ships of Athens, men who bore arms and could defend their ships from being boarded. They had surprised enemies before with that simplest of tactics. Chained slaves did not fight like free Greeks. Though they had to be paid, it was honourable work for those who wanted to play a part but had no armour or weapons. They too had a vote in the Assembly – and they wanted to defend the city.

Athens lay behind him as he watched the carpenters at their labours. Xanthippus smiled when he realised the beat of mallet and chisels made his ears ring, yet left him perfectly calm. There were different kinds of noise, it seemed. The shaping of wood and shouts for nails and glue did not trouble him. In comparison to arguments in the city, mere physical labour was a balm.

The port lay just thirty stades or so to the south-west of the city walls. Xanthippus could run to the shore in half an hour and he enjoyed having a destination. Some of the serious young men of the Assembly pounded laps at the gymnasia, lost in a sort of dreaming state as they poured with sweat. Xanthippus preferred to aim at a place – and he had an interest in the ships being constructed.

The city could not afford them, not really. The richest families had all been approached to do their part and provide vast sums of silver. Two of the keels taking shape in sections on the shore had been financed by the Alcmaeonid family. A piece of his wife’s wealth – his wealth! – would travel with Miltiades when he set out in the spring.