On this mountain in northern Cyprus, overlooking the village of Vouni, stands a palace. As you gaze at the fragmented walls, let your guide be a figure from 483 B.C. C., when Persia and Greece fought to dominate the island. Cyprus is divided into several small kingdoms. Your guide is Himilcar, ancient statesman and advisor to Doxandros, King of Marion. Marion is a city not too far away, and the Persians built this palace for Doxandros, who has sworn allegiance to them.

Go to the old entrance on the southwest side of the building. Can you hear Himilcar muttering to himself as he approaches the palace?

“Fifteen years have passed since the Ionian Greeks began the Great Revolt. Did they learn nothing from defeat?

“Oh, greetings, stranger. I didn’t see you there. Come here, under the porch. Otherwise our hot Cypriot sun will burn your brains out. What is the Great Revolt, you ask? What cave have you been living in? The Greek cities of Ionia in Asia Minor revolted against our Persian King of Kings. Cypriot kings who favored Greece, in cities like Soli, also revolted.

“But the revolt was doomed from the start. The King of Kings’ domains stretch from Egypt to India and his army is uncountable. He crushed the revolt in Cyprus in a matter of days.

“But come in, come in. I am Himilcar, chief adviser to King Doxandros of Marion. Have you ever been in a Persian palace? Yes, it really is Persian, Persian designed and Persian built.

“How did that happen, you ask? During the Great Revolt, King Doxandros remained loyal to the Persians. As a reward, the King of Kings built this palace for him.

A pair of guards, their round shields slung across their backs and their long swords sheathed, stand in front of the door.

In a corner of the room, a scribe sits cross-legged on a cushion, his writing board on his knees. Beside him are sheets of papyrus paper, sharp reeds that he will use as feathers, and a clay jug of ink.

“Go down the stairs here to the right. These are living quarters for the high officials and myself.

“Across the hall from our rooms are the palace storerooms. Here the king keeps provisions of food, cloth, precious herbs, and dyes. See how the great vases, the amphoras, are sunk into the ground. Toward the front of the palace are the guards’ rooms. You can hear the guards laughing as they play dice. No, they don’t live there. They are on duty, passing the time until needed.

“Go to the reception rooms. The common people wait here. On the right is the king’s official recorder. On the left is the queen’s. People come here to have land transfers recorded, to pay taxes, to bring a case before the court.

“Come, come, don’t be shy. The people you see in this third room are the rich and the nobles. You can tell by the lavish embroidery on their robes. The rich have gold and silver thread; the nobles may wear Tyrian purple, the most precious of dyes.

“My own office is on the right hand side of this last waiting room. Just take a look and see the jumble of scrolls on my desk. I’m getting further behind every day. Now let’s go directly to the throne room.”

“Go up these seven steps. The steps are wide to announce that the king will receive all his people. Of course, he mostly sees the important ones. He looks at the brightly painted columns and thrones. There, the king and queen greet petitioners and supporters. The rich and nobles wander here, seeking favor, always conspiring for favor.

“The queen’s apartments are on the left. The king and his son have rooms on the right. Magnificent as these rooms are, with their painted walls and potted lilies and roses, I will show you the true wonder of the palace.

“Do you see here behind the King’s chamber? Two baths with toilets and beyond, a hot bath. The water comes from our own cisterns and is heated and piped. You won’t find anything like it between Crete and Persia.

“We can go through here to the large courtyard. The rooms around it are storerooms and garrison rooms for the troops. Armor and weapons are stored here, along with food supplies. Do you see the well? It enters a cavern that we have dug into the mountain itself. It serves as one of the many cisterns that hold winter rain for us to use throughout the year.

“Excuse me please. I need to talk to that guy over there. You can check the warehouses and staff quarters surrounding this central courtyard.”

The courtyard is bustling with activity. Muscular men in kilts polish armor in the shade. In one corner, a blacksmith puts a new edge on a pile of swords. The cook and her assistants are plucking chickens on the road, singing softly as they work. But here is Amílcar returning.

“Who is he? The man I spoke to? There’s no problem telling you, I guess. He’s one of my spies.”

“King Xerxes is preparing to march on Greece. He needs to know which cities will support him and which might try to stab him in the back. Soli stood up against Persia once and might again. So I have spies on Soli.

“I must get back to my work. But feel free to roam. May Anat bless you as you come and go.”

So goodbye to the old ghost, from long ago when Asia and Europe held Cyprus in a tug-of-war and bitterness divided city by city.

Find out what happened to the Palace by reading the longer version at [ttp://www.cyprus-seaterra.com/articles/vouni.html]