“Amjad,” I said. “Shadhi often spoke with me about you. He had a high regard for your intelligence and yet, despite this, we know little of each other. Who are you? When did you come to Damascus, and how did you end up in the citadel as a retainer of the Sultan?”
His eyes became melancholic and he sighed, before speaking in his soft, unbroken voice.
“The reason I have resisted the Sultana’s previous injunctions to speak of myself is because I know very little of my past. I am a saqalabi, that much is clear from my appearance, and I am a eunuch, which almost reduces me to the level of a caged animal.
“As you are both no doubt aware, people like me come in different shapes and sizes. There are some eunuchs whose entire penis has been removed. This variety is popular amongst those kings and sultans who watch their women like tigers, ready to pounce on them at the first signs of betrayal. They imagine that a eunuch whose organ has been completely removed can, for that reason, be trusted completely. Strange how the degree of trust for some nobles and emirs is dependent on the degree to which a eunuch has been mutilated. If they really wanted to avoid all physical contact between a eunuch and a woman they would have to eliminate more than a poor penis. Fingers, toes and the wonderfully agile tongue would also need to be removed. But I have long given up studying the inconsistencies of emirs and sultans.
“There are others like me, who are simply castrated and sold to churches. We are taught to sing in praise of Isa, and in our spare time we gratify the carnal desires of priests and bishops. Fate favoured me. I did not undergo any such ordeal. I was castrated when I was four or five years old, bought by Jewish merchants in the lands of the Bulgars, and sold in the market in Andalus. Here I was bought by another trader, who believed in Allah and the Prophet, and brought me to Damascus. All this I was told by the family to whom I was sold at the age of seven.
“As the Sultana is aware, our faith expressly forbids the castration of boys or men. So the only way in which the demand for eunuchs can be met by our sultans and emirs is through buying them from churches or freeing them from the tyranny of the priests, after a city has fallen to the followers of the Prophet. Then we become faithful and willing converts to Allah, because we have never been treated better or permitted so much influence and power.
“The Sultana understands well that intelligence resides not in the penis, but in the brain of a man. To regard eunuchs as powerless purely on the basis of their emasculation is foolish, as many rulers, the late Sultan Zengi amongst them, have discovered to their cost.
“I know of at least three different cabals of eunuchs in the citadel alone. They are loyal to the Sultan, yet after he dies they will take different sides in the struggle for the succession. I belong to none of them and, for that reason, am both trusted and mistrusted by all. It is a happy position because they tell me what I wish to know, but keep secret their plots. That also pleases me. If I was aware of any plan to kill al-Afdal, I would inform the chamberlain without hesitation.
“You, wise and good Ibn Yakub, asked of my childhood memories. Alas, I have no recollection of my parents or when and why they sold me. Perhaps they were poor peasants and needed money. There are several eunuchs in Damascus who have told me stories of how they were castrated by their own parents, and sold to merchants acting on behalf of the Patriarch of Constantinople.
“I have no memory of the voyage from the land of the Bulgars to Andalus, or from those parts to Damascus. I was sold by the trader who had bought me in Andalus to the merchant, Daniyal ibn Yusuf. His family treated me kindly. I was taught how to read and write as if I was their own child. They clothed me and made sure I was well fed. I always knew I was different from the rest of the family because I did not sleep in the house. I lodged in the quarters allocated to the cook. They were always hot and dominated by an offensive odour, which emanated from the body and clothes of the cook. He never mistreated or abused me and, since he was a good cook, I forgave him the unpleasant smell.
“By the time I was sixteen, the master commented that I had a natural ability with figures and he took me out of the house. Every morning I would accompany him to his work in the suk, where he owned two shops. The first sold expensive cloths and rugs: satins and brocades from Samarkand, silk from China, muslin and shawls from India, and Persian rugs.
“The neighbouring shop sold only swords, and these, too, were of the highest quality. The master told me that one of the swords of the Sultan Salah al-Din had been bought from his shop, though later Shadhi told me that this could not have been the case. All the Sultan’s weapons were specially made to measure by craftsmen attached to the armouries established for this purpose in Cairo and Damascus.
“What is undoubtedly true is that the cloth shop was visited one day by the Sultana Ismat, may she rest in peace, and her retinue. I am talking now of the time when she was married to the great Nur al-Din and not to our Sultan. I was in the shop that day, and she was impressed by the way I spoke to the ladies who waited on her. I refused to haggle and stuck firmly to the price that had been fixed by my master. I had no idea who these grand ladies were or from whence they came.
“The Sultana laughed at my impudence and within a week she had me transferred to the citadel. When she discovered I was a eunuch, she was overjoyed. I was attached to the harem as her special messenger to the world outside. After Nur al-Din’s death, she married our Sultan. The rest you know. I am sorry that my life has been so uneventful.”
I could now see why Amjad was so highly valued by those who trusted his discretion. He knew many of the darker secrets of life in the citadel, but had refused to divulge them. Perhaps it was my presence that inhibited him. Perhaps he did not wish to speak out of turn while Jamila was present, for then she might think that if he could talk about others in front of her he could easily do the same about her to others, and trust would be destroyed.
That same day, following the evening meal, I resisted all attempts to make me join the various games with which the soldiers amused themselves. I was not in a mood to enjoy the company of my fellow men. Morbid thoughts had begun to crowd my mind. I returned to my tent and began to meditate on the stage my life had reached. Might it not be prematurely cut short in the weeks and months ahead?
The tent itself began to feel oppressive and, anxious to rid my head of cobwebs, I decided to walk out into the night, to regain my inner calm by breathing the cold night air and watching the movement of the stars.
I had sat down on a little mound and was thinking of Rachel, when a hand tapped my shoulder. I had thought I was alone and the touch sent a shock-wave of fright through my body. In times like this, one thought of Franj spies, but the voice was familiar.
“My heartfelt apologies for frightening you, Ibn Yakub. I, too, found the camp very restricting tonight and decided to follow you here. I should have made my presence known earlier, but I felt you needed to be alone for a while.”
It was Amjad. Relief dissipated the anger I had felt at being followed in this sly fashion. He had done so for a purpose.
“I could feel that you did not fully trust the account of my life that I gave you and the Sultana this morning.”
I reassured him that this was not the case. I had no reason to doubt his veracity. My dissatisfaction, for it was nothing more, had arisen because I felt instinctively that he knew a great deal more than he had cared to divulge. Jamila had felt this more strongly than myself, and had been irritated by what she characterised as Amjad’s refusal to take sides on any issue. The eunuch smiled when I informed him of her annoyance.