The Greeks and Romans were hypocritical about eunuchs. They condemned them as evidence of eastern cruelty and decadence. Castration was illegal in the Roman empire. Yet they imported them in their thousands. Provided they were cut beyond their frontiers, in out-of-the-way places like Abasgia by the Black Sea, it seemed not to matter. It was said that in their palaces the Caesars and the senators were served by eunuchs. There had always been eunuchs in Persia – their uses had been recognised since the time of Cyrus the Great. Unable to sire a family of their own, they were loyal. If cut young, it was safe for them to guard the women of the family. A pretty young eunuch made a good bed companion for a man. And, if anything went wrong, if scandal touched their master, the blame could be placed upon his eunuchs.

Of course there was another reason that boys, even men, were castrated. Vengeance. Barbad knew the story of Hermotimus. It was in Herodotus, one of the first works that he had read when learning Greek. As a prisoner of war, Hermotimus had fallen into the hands of Panionius, a slave trader. Panionius had castrated Hermotimus, and sold him in the market at Sardis. By chance, or the will of the gods, Hermotimus had been bought for the household of the Persian king. Later, when Hermotimus had become the King’s most valued eunuch, he sought out Panionius. Listing all the benefits that had come his way thanks to the slave trader, Hermotimus persuaded Panionius to come with his family to live with him, so that he could do as much good in return. When Hermotimus had Panionius in his power, he dropped the pretence, took him prisoner, and cursed him. For his crimes, the gods had delivered Panionius into his hands. Hermotimus had the four sons of Panionius dragged in. One by one he forced the slave trader to castrate his sons, then the sons to castrate the father.

The sky was paling. It would soon be dawn. It was time to begin the endlessly repeated routine of the day.

Forcing himself not to groan, Barbad levered his old bones from his bed. Having found his slippers and robe, he shuffled quietly to the door. The boy was still sleeping, his dark curls spread across the pillow. The gaolers had given Barbad oil for the hinges. The door opened without a sound. Gently, Barbad pulled it shut behind him.