Naduk changed his grip on Valens, and smashed him into the wall again. A surge of pain from deep in his stomach made Valens retch. The warden pinned him to the wall with one great paw, and readied the other for the fatal thrust.

‘Leave him!’

Not slackening his grip, Naduk looked over his shoulder.

The old eunuch had emerged from behind the hangings. He had the young Prince in a headlock, the minute dagger at his throat.

‘What will Shapur do, if you have let Prince Sasan die in your care?’

‘Put the knife down, you old fool. Everyone knows a eunuch lacks the courage to do such a thing.’

The eunuch’s hands were trembling. The tip of the blade pricked the tender skin. A drop of blood as red as a ruby rolled down.

‘Drop the knife! Think of the pincers and the hot knives, Barbad.’

Valens hung, limp as a rag doll, momentarily almost forgotten.

‘Think what you will suffer in the cellars.’

No matter how big and tough and strong, every man has a weak point. Valens grabbed Naduk’s crotch. His fingers closing, he squeezed and twisted.

The big red mouth in the big red beard bellowed with pain.

Bracing his right boot against the wall, Valens hurled them both to the ground. He landed on top of Naduk. The impact jarred the knife out of the warden’s fist and sent it skittering off across the rug.

Now Valens drove the palm of his hand into the other’s face. There was a crack as the nose broke. Valens rolled off, and scuttled on all fours like an animal towards his fallen knife. He heard Naduk getting to his knees. As Valens dived, a hand seized his ankle. His fingers closed on the hilt as he was yanked backwards. Twisting, Valens drove the blade down between the huge shoulders. Naduk bellowed like a bull in the arena. Valens wrenched the knife free, stabbed down again and again. Eventually the noise ceased.

The dead weight was heavy on Valens’s legs. It took him a moment to summon the strength to push it off.

The eunuch and the boy were standing staring at the dead man. The knife was no longer at the boy’s throat.

Valens got unsteadily to his feet, trying to clear his mind and orientate himself. The coals from the overturned brazier smouldered on the rugs. The breeze from the window brought a tang of woodsmoke. There were things to do before he got out of here.

‘Gather anything you can’t leave behind,’ Valens said to the boy.

Prince Sasan and the eunuch just stood there.

Kneeling, Valens found the ring with the seal of the zendanig. He severed the finger it was on, took the ring, and threw the finger away.

‘Get your belongings, only the essentials. You are coming with me.’

‘Not without Barbad,’ the boy replied.

Valens looked at the aged eunuch. ‘Can you ride?’