Free Solomon's Throne by Jennings Wright Page B

morning. I am happy to be spending the day with my sister here in the village, and the men will get rest, yes?”
    “ Obrigado, senhor. I will be very happy to explore the ruins again, and to show them more carefully to my bride.”
    The guide bowed, and went back to his men, who were now relaxing with a hot beverage. He said something to them and they all laughed. He thinks I’m a bit eccentric, thought Joao. He smiled. If he only knew!
    The next morning, after hot, bitter coffee and a mixture of sweet rice and bits of dried fruit, the Xaviers made their way back to the ruins of the Taq-i Kisra with the elder of the village, Aqa Rahimi. The elderly Rahimi was the only local man who knew all about the history of the Persians, about the ruins of the palaces, and about the various carvings and inscriptions that could be found on the walls and remaining columns of the structure. He had learned from his father, and he from his father, and on and on through the generations, in a strong tradition of oral history, and he would be their eyes to the past. And for Joao, a prophet of the future. Alongside him was his cousin Khadem, who had worked for the Portuguese during their brief occupation of the area and would serve as translator.
    The palace continued to entrance Isabel, and she sat with a small sketch pad under an umbrella while the men walked around the massive structure.
    “ Aqa , why is it that no one has lived beneath these walls all these years?” Joao asked.
    Through Khadem, Rahimi said, “It is bad to live in the king’s house if you are not the king.”
    “But there are no Persian kings now…”
    “One day there may be a king again. It is bad to be in the king’s house if the king returns.”
    Joao nodded. They walked around the rear of the structure, looking up at the towering wall. Joao touched an area of brick that had been scratched. “What does this mean?”
    Rahimi looked closely at the graffiti. “It is a prayer. For the dead.”
    Joao kept walking. The walls were remarkably intact. The brick was barely crumbling, and, although the roof had been burned centuries before, and the center section seemed to have lost many of its walls, it was still a breath-taking site.
    “Do you know what was here?” He waved to the area behind the arch, which was a large open space.
    “The palace was very grand. The ceiling was…” He made a tenting motion with his hands. Khadem consulted and came up with the word. “Round. The roof was very high from the ground, and the king and his people did their business there.” The king’s court.
    He walked through the center to the arch. It was well known through the building of the gothic cathedrals in Europe that arches were very strong. The wings of the palace were beginning to fall apart, but the arch… the arch would stand until the brick crumbled to dust in the winds. Judging by the solidity of the building blocks, that would not be for a very, very long time. He had his spot.
    “I will get my wife, and then we would like to see the carvings, if you please.” He strode to Isabel and helped her gather her drawing paper and pens.
    “I’d like you to copy some of the carvings for me, my dear. Can you do that, do you think?”
    “Oh certainly! That would be wonderful, Joao. We would have lembranca , souvenirs, for our new home.” She walked along beside him, bustling with excitement. “I have never seen such a place as this, my love! I did not relish the camel journey, I must confess, but now that we are here I am ever so thankful to you for even those camels! Obrigado, meu amor.”
    Inside the structure, they enjoyed the cool shade. The day had heated up considerably, and the cool brick and shadows were much welcomed. Rahimi showed the couple several of the carvings made by the kings’ artisans, and they both went to work copying them. While they were thus engaged, the two Persian men went to the camels and brought back cool wine, fruit, smoked meats, and bread.