“I think so, child.”
“But why?”
“Because they are not only doing their own task but keeping the Spartans to theirs. Then, too, Athens city itself is almost sure to be destroyed.”
“Father!”
Theria leaned forward in her usual absorbed fashion. Nikander suddenly realized how he would miss Theria’s questionings at home. Of late, he had actually cleared his plans by talking fully to Theria. This he did not acknowledge even to himself. Yet it affected his mood. He was tenderly frank in speech with her.
“Athens destroyed!” she repeated.
“It will all depend upon the battle in the north. The battle which we hope will bar the Persians out of Greece. We have decided now to hold them back at a place called Thermopylæ, the narrowest pass anywhere in our northern mountain barrier. The pass lies thus,” he gestured, “between steep mountain and sea. It is scarce six feet wide.”
“How far from here?” she queried.
“Seventy-five miles by mountain road. The Spartans, we hope, will march thither. The Athenians’ ships will hold the strait at Artemesium. Land and sea will fight at once.”