Broken down and starving as they are, you’d imagine they wouldn’t give a shite if some Syracusan loved Athenian theatre, but they do. You only need the quickest scan of their faces, and you see it. Something that I haven’t glimpsed since I stared across at these Athenians two years previous in battle when they were gleaming in armour. That very same thing is in their eyes now, though in a much, much frailer form: pride. These fellas are proud to be Athenian. It doesn’t last long, but while it’s there, it’s unmistakable and kind of beautiful and foolish.
