The most senior slave of her household was Manias, who had served her father and known her as a little girl. He had helped Xanthippus with his weapons and armour before going out to Marathon. With a blade in his hand, he stood by the iron gate and nodded to the mistress of the house, ready for her command. The road was hidden behind it, but a slot could be opened. There was a risk of a spear-thrust, of course, which was why he looked to her for orders.

‘See who it is, Manias,’ Agariste said, the breath catching cold in her throat.

He opened the slot and peered out. Standing behind him, Agariste saw the man’s shoulders dip and the tension go from his grip on the sword.

‘It is the master,’ Manias said.

Agariste might have replied, but a voice bellowed outside.

‘Door! What, are you all deaf? Open the door.’

Agariste did not release the others, though she signalled to Manias to pull back the bolts that ran from the iron door into the wall itself. It was unforgivable for Xanthippus to wake the family in this way.

The door opened and then shuddered as Xanthippus half-fell through it, held upright by two strangers. They seemed crudely amused rather than embarrassed. Agariste drew her robe more tightly around her as they tried to bow and not drop her husband at the same time. She could smell wine and vomit on them all and she raised a hand to her mouth.

‘Where would you like him, mistress?’ one of the men slurred at her, choosing to wink for some reason.

‘I would like him left in the gutter,’ she said. ‘However, as you have woken my entire household to bring him in, leave him on that bench there and depart. Manias – give them a drachm apiece for their trouble, would you?’

Manias found two silver coins and passed them to the delighted men, who thanked him profusely. Xanthippus lolled on the bench with his head tilted back, already asleep. The other two stood in the doorway, looking blearily around themselves.

‘Might there be something to eat as well?’ one of them asked.

‘No,’ Agariste said. ‘Are you slaves?’

Her manner to them would depend on their station, of course. In the half-light, it was hard to tell, as both young men were dressed simply, without rings. She was relieved when they nodded. She had been at a disadvantage before, but that vanished.

‘You have my gratitude. And who is your master, to have brought my husband home in such a state?’

‘Archon Themistocles, madam,’ one of them said proudly. ‘He has bought a brothel.’

‘Wonderful,’ Agariste said. ‘This was in the nature of a celebration, then, was it?’

Both men nodded, though one of them was looking pale, as if he might be ill once more.

‘Return to your master, with my thanks,’ she said, as gently as she could.

She showed no further sign of her irritation at them, or her fury at her husband. They beamed at her and allowed Manias to push them back into the road. The gate was closed and locked and they could be heard singing as they wandered back towards the city.