‘I am Miltiades of the Philaidae family, victor of Marathon. I am a descendant of Achilles, who was grandson to King Aeacus, who was son to Zeus. My father was the Cimon who raced chariots in the Olympics. I named my son after him, who has reached manhood and joined this Assembly of Athenians to stand at my side today. I give thanks for my return, as I grieve for those who have not returned.’

He took a breath and Xanthippus saw tears gleam in the man’s eyes. He was suspicious enough already to wonder at the theatrical nature of the display. Those at the back would be unable to see. Would the general wipe tears away to be sure they noticed his sorrow?

‘I left Piraeus with seventy triremes,’ Miltiades went on. ‘We headed east, intending to hunt for the Persian fleet along the coast of Ionia and the islands there. Yet from the first, whenever we berthed and interrogated fishermen, we heard of sightings. We were in their wake for a month at sea, I think. We ran short of fresh water and had to lay up on islands I did not know. There, I heard of colonies that had declared for Persia. Islands once loyal to Athens that had turned against us.’

He waited for a ripple of unease to end before going on. Perhaps without realising it, he raised his injured leg a fraction to ease his discomfort, so that he stood on the tip of one toe. It reminded them all of his wound. Xanthippus watched with his head raised and tilted to one side.

‘I followed rumours and I paid silver to the captains of merchant galleys – to pirates and adventurers, all seeking their fortune in our waters. They said the island of Paros had turned to Persia and so I went there, widening our search, looking for the enemy. Our water casks ran dry once more and we starved. Yet I pushed on and my men trusted me.’

He paused to sip water from a cup his son held up. Xanthippus stood very still, his focus absolute as the man continued.

‘We found them on Paros. The Persians had landed a hundred galleys there, two hundred, I do not know. They lay empty, abandoned, but there were horses on the beaches – huge herds, thousands of them. When we landed, they ran away. It seemed a paradise, empty of all signs of men. My captains began to land our hoplites, ready to march into the interior.’

He took another drink, his hands trembling.

‘They came then, in greater numbers than I can describe. They were the slaves from the ships and the soldiers of their cavalry, all in a great rush from the trees and hills. They had hidden when they saw us coming and they caught us unawares. We fought – we made a great slaughter and spattered the white sand red as wine! Yet not all of us had landed and they were too many.’