What would Xerxes make of a war in which the largest military ever assembled has spent five months failing to reopen thirty-three kilometres of water, held shut by a country whose leadership it killed in the first fortnight? He would recognise it on sight. He lost his own war in a strait about the same width, and has spent twenty-five centuries being remembered instead for shouting at one. He inherited, at thirty-five or so, not a horde but a filing system. The empire ran from the Indus to Thrace on relay roads, travel warrants, standardised tribute and tens of thousands of clay tablets recording rations issued and redeemed, women drawing wages, livestock counted. Then he spent four years preparing an invasion, and the preparation is the impressive part: grain buried along a coastline before it was needed, a bridge of lashed ships across a sea, a canal cut through a mountain because a headland had once eaten his father's fleet. He understood the only figure in a war that cannot be given a speech, which is the number of days you can go on doing exactly what you are doing today. It was not enough. The Greeks declined to fight his army and fought his dinner instead, in narrow water where his numbers were a liability, and he went home. Two and a half thousand years kept the flogging and threw away the receipts. Everyone can recite the three hundred lashes, the golden chair on the hillside, the 1,700,000 men. Nobody remembers that the count is a genre convention no historian accepts, that the canal was dug up in the twentieth century and is real, that he reigned fifteen more years without the empire cracking, or that the dynasty outlasted him by 135. He is the only figure the show could book whose entire personality was written by the people who beat him — and who now finds that vocabulary, despot, fanatic, mad king, aimed by a foreign power at his own descendants. This episode puts the inventor of the format in front of the format. He has opinions. On six war aims, stated across five months, against his one carved once in rock — not because he was honest but because a war with six reasons has none, and everyone can count. On killing a Supreme Leader on the first morning and discovering that an empire is not a man; he removed the leadership of Babylon and Babylon carried on being Babylon. On interceptors two-thirds gone, six hundred a year, a year of production spendable in a fortnight, and a post insisting there are massive amounts. On the one commander who told him not to fight at Salamis, whom he praised in front of everyone and overruled, and promoted afterwards, which is the most expensive way there is to admit somebody was right. And on the sea, which he raises himself, before anyone can: it was not madness. It was theatre with a budget. Everyone narrating this war is confident they are the historian, but history is written by the victor. Episode 24. What Would They Think?