‘But you will tell no one,’ Themistocles said. His smile as he said it was, to me, proof, and led me to wonder if Themistocles was enough of a player to have me killed.
‘Imagine how long you would last if I told Aristides,’ I said.
Themistocles looked away.
I had asked Cleitus because he was not really a member of any party except the eupatridae. He turned his head towards me — trying to read if I was tricking him, I think. But when we had left and were wallowing along the sand of our beach, he paused beyond the firelight.
‘What was all that about?’ he asked.
‘Everyone knows you and I do not see eye to eye,’ I said. ‘I wanted you to see and hear, so that I had an impartial witness.’
Cleitus winced. ‘I’ve never liked him. A democrat of the most vulgar style. No one will believe me-’
‘Aristides would, if it came to that,’ I said.
Cleitus paused, and then motioned to his marines to step away.
‘This is poison,’ he said. ‘If men thought that Themistocles was betraying us, our League could collapse.’
‘I know,’ I said.
‘What do you propose to do now?’ he asked.
‘Go plan my son’s wedding,’ I said.
Cleitus laughed. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘Probably the best course.’
I awoke with the dawn for the usual reasons and dragged my aching limbs out of my blankets. The morning had a chill to it but the sun rose into a cloudless sky and the wind was from the west. I walked down to the edge of the sea where many men were already about their business. In the bustle, Siccinius bumped into me and, rather cleverly, handed me back the wooden needle case. He bowed, apologised for being clumsy, and went to attend his master while I returned to my tent and read the message in the case.
Greeting, Doru.
My new master, Artaphernes son of Artaphernes, rides in the morning. He is going all the way to Ephesus. He will go very quickly. He will leave my war-brothers and me because he knows we will fight him in this.
He means to kill her and her children.
Doru, I owe my honour to my king. But I will pray that you save her. And I remain your friend.
It was plainly written in Persian, in the new script that the soldiers used. I knew it well enough, and I knew who would have written it — Cyrus. I wondered at it though. Why on earth would young Artaphernes, who’d already, I assumed, been accepted as Satrap, need to kill Briseis? Why would he ride home to do so?
I found Seckla just rising, and visited Leukas, who was still in agony. But not dead. Onisandros, however, was. Seckla had just closed his eyes.
I put a hand on his forehead, and it was already cold. Death is … death.
I went and knelt by Leukas. He looked terrible — grey instead of fleshy. He was in control of his voice though, and he locked my right hand in a grip of adamant.
‘I want to come to sea,’ he said.
I knelt by him. ‘You’re better off here — look at all these pretty girls,’ I said with, I confess it, false humour.
Leukas pulled me close. ‘I want to die at sea,’ he said. ‘Clean. Put my body in the water. Float home. Closer to my gods. You owe me, sir. Promise me!’
I gave my oath and Seckla and Brasidas had him taken aboard. We also shipped Harpagos’s corpse. I intended to return him to his sister.
We rigged a big awning forward of the helmsman’s station and made Leukas as comfortable as we could.
That is, Seckla did. I went and visited the other wounded men. A dozen had died but now the rest would probably make it. That’s what I thought at the time — the horrible maths of the butcher’s bill. If a man lives a week, he’s probably going to make it. Apollo takes a few in the third week, from infection, but if you live even three days your odds are much better.
I thought about Leukas. And about Seckla. About Briseis and Artaphernes and even about Xerxes; and war, and men who inflict war.
And then I moved on. This is one of the hardest aspects of leading men, and women. You cannot stop, not to mourn, not to admit defeat or even to rest on the laurels of a well-won victory. Because people need to be fed and clothed and motivated, and you just cannot stop. Sometimes, when my spirits are low, all I want is sleep, and yet … there are wounded men to visit, there’s the supply list to check, there’s Seckla feeling the darkness and needing a friend.
Don’t start on the road of leading men unless you plan to finish, or die trying. Because when you accept responsibility for them — by the gods, if you fail, they all fall with you, and on your head be it.
I drink now to my own dead. If you could see them, if, like Odysseus, I might pour out a libation of blood and see them come to drink it, what a crowd there would be in this room, my friends!
Anyway, I asked all the oarsmen to gather on the beach. While they were coming in, many with hard heads and some looking almost green, we heard cheering from the headland and before I had my people together, news had come that the whole of Xerxes’ fleet was putting to sea.
I wasn’t surprised — they’d been getting their masts and sails aboard the day before — and yet I was surprised. These days, when people speak of Salamis, it is as if our big fight won the war. I know better. Until we saw them running, most of us assumed we’d have to fight again. When they ran, they still outnumbered us.
The problem, of course, was that the part of the fleet that had been destroyed was the part most loyal to the Great King, and the part now cutting and running for home was mostly Ionian. They had fought well — many were ships commanded by the Tyrants and their families, who would lose everything if a democratic government arose. But at the same time they had little love for the Persians. And no interest in taking further losses fighting us.
War is complicated because it is politics.
I gave up on speaking to my people. We all ran, pell-mell, to the peninsula and looked out over the sea, where hundreds of sails covered the ocean to the east, as far as the eye could make them out — not just triremes, either, but smaller ships, all the Egyptians who’d never been engaged and all the hundreds of merchantmen who had supplied the fleet.
Most of the men saw in that stampede of enemy ships the moment of victory.
Cimon was by me. He grabbed my chiton. ‘Look at that!’ he said. ‘A fortune for any pirate quick enough to snap them up.’
‘But we’re not to pursue them,’ Lykon said.
As events proved, Eurybiades and Themistocles had already decided on the next step. We had a brief conference near the ashes of the altar fire.
Eurybiades didn’t need advice. He simply reiterated the ideas put forth the day before as to why we should not race the enemy for the Hellespont.
‘But,’ he said, ‘it would be foolish for us to let them go without any pursuit. If those more eager for freedom see our ships coming behind, some may yet defect.’
That made sense, too. A half-dozen Ionians had defected before the battle.
Eurybiades looked around. ‘I ask you gentlemen to make one more throw. The weather is fair. Let us pursue them a few days at least.’
Themistocles wouldn’t meet my eye, but he waved for attention. ‘Nor can we simply give chase,’ he said. ‘We must be prepared to fight. I would like to put to sea in three columns: the Athenians under Xanthippus, the Corinthians and Peloponnesians under Adeimantus, and the Aeginians under Polycritus.’
Polycritus smiled without mirth. ‘I can be off the beaches before the sun rises another finger’s width,’ he said. ‘See that you Athenians keep up.’
Cimon caught me as other men began to race for their ships. ‘Let’s form together,’ he said.
‘When Themistocles turns,’ I said, ‘I’ll be going on. All the way to Ephesus.’
Cimon knew why. But he was still hesitant. ‘You could find yourself alone in a sea of enemies.’