Solomon's Throne

by Jennings Wright

  Rei thanked her and slid the money across the counter. She also bought two oranges and two more bottles of water. Putting the helmet over her hair once again, she went outside with her purchases in a battered plastic bag and climbed behind Gideon. She flipped up her face mask and told him the directions, showing him the paper map. He nodded, and they headed north.

  They took one turn to the left, and another to the right, and were on a rutted dirt road about one and a half car widths wide. If they had been in the Prado it would have been a challenge to navigate the giant holes, but on the bike Gideon was able to stay almost on the shoulder and pick out a reasonably smooth, straight route. They were motoring beside the plantation, with the bay on their left, and Gideon slowed down. As the old woman had said, there was a pile of stones at the edge of the field, entangled in flowering vines, but just visible if one knew what to look for. They turned the bike inland.

  They only got a dozen yards before there was no more path for the bike. Gideon stopped.

  “We can either skirt over to those bananas or whatever they are, and try to follow along the edge under them, or walk.”

  “I think we’d better walk,” Rei said. “We don’t know if the plantation goes straight east, and we also don’t know that the owners would be too keen on us wheeling through their plantation. I don’t really want to meet some mad farmer who has a machete in his hand, so you?”

  They agreed that wasn’t an ideal scenario, but Gideon was still loathe to leave the bike. After wandering around the area, they decided to hide the motorcycle in a thicket near the edge of the motoke trees. It wasn’t invisible, but it wouldn’t been seen at a glance, and they felt that was the best they could hope for.

  They shouldered their backpacks and walked to the original path. Gideon had driven as dead east as he could from the marker, and following a straight east west track would help them find their way back to the motorcycle. After a few hundred feet, Rei began to wish they had their own machete. The African vines had taken hold, and the thorn bushes crowded the rest of the unused area.

  “Holy cow, these thorns are about three inches long! One just made a rip in my pants!” She fingered the hole. “That sucks.”

  Gideon was more worried about missing the ruins for the vines and termite mounds. He knew the peninsula wasn’t very wide here, and didn’t think their chance of getting lost was high. But he thought they could probably walk right by a one story house if it was covered in vines and half eaten by termites and never realize it. He was starting to sweat from his long sleeves, long pants, and the lack of breeze inside the jungle.

  They stopped and drank from one of the water bottles, and Gideon made sure the compass on his watch was still pointing east.

  “I feel like we should have dropped into the ocean by now!” he said. “It can’t be much further, or else we’ve passed it.”

  “I haven’t seen any rocks yet. It sounded like a big landmark, from what the lady said. Let’s just keep going. If we hit the ocean road… well, we’ll have to come back and try again.”

  Gideon put away the bottle and picked some broken thorns from his jeans. “After you…”

  Rei set off. Gideon got snagged by a tangle of thorns and stopped to disengage, while Rei went on. He had just untangled himself when he heard her yell for him. “Gideon!”

  He jogged ahead, and saw that she was standing in a clearing, a huge rock on the left and the obvious ruins of buildings scattered around. Near the rock wall was part of a fireplace and chimney, the lower half of a wall connecting the two. The church’s rock altar was still upright in the ruins, the walls of which were mostly reduced to rubble.

  Rei looked at him. “I think we’re in trouble… There’s almost nothing of the walls left at all!”

  “Let’s look at the church first. That altar looks like solid slabs of rock, and it’s sitting on what looks like paving stones, not this brick.” They wandered through the piles of broken bricks to the altar and each took a side, squatting down and running their hands along the stone. They checked the inside of each leg, and the stone pavers it stood on. Nothing.

  “Ok, let’s think it through. He comes here.” She started pacing, and picked up a brick. “These bricks are fine… but they’re made mostly of this red soil and reeds. So he can’t imagine that they’re substantial like stone would be. And I don’t know what the mortar was… It obviously didn’t hold up that well. And anything wood… well the termites have taken care of that.” She pointed to a large termite mound in the center of the clearing.

  Gideon walked over towards the rock face that had been a part of the living quarters. He stood near the fireplace, looking at the remains of the brick wall.

  “This is all the same brick, except for the stones that line the fireplace. But they’re just loosely fitted in here… and I can’t see any X.” He started to move the stones. After he’d picked each one up, looked underneath, and replaced it, he looked at Rei and shook his head. “Just dirt.”

  He walked to the rock and ran his hand along the surface. Rei joined him.

  “There are holes… Looks like they somehow hung shelves or pegs or something on this wall. I don’t see any carvings…” Gideon continued to scan the face. “But there are some rougher areas that might hide our X.”

  Meticulously they covered the wall. Nothing. Frustrated, Rei stood looking at it with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. She spotted a small ledge that was near the ground level. She couldn’t tell if it had been inside or outside the structure. But thinking about it, she didn’t see any reason that it would have had to be inside anyway. The last clue wasn’t. She walked over and got down on her knees, leaning over to see underneath the ledge. She brushed away dirt and mud that had splashed up on the rock during many a rainy season.

  “Hey! Here! I think it’s here!” She used both hands to brush at the dried mud. “Bring me some water!”

  Gideon came over and handed her the half full water bottle. She couldn’t pour it directly on the wall, since it sloped back and away under the ledge. She handed the bottle back to Gideon and cupped her hands.

  “Pour some in my hand and I’ll splash it up there.” He did, and she tried to throw it on the wall. “OK, that was a complete fail… Try again.” She cupped her hands again, and this time had better aim. After three more handfuls of water, she had the mud off and an X was clearly visible. She grinned at her husband.

  “Ta da!” She made a game show sweep of her arm. Gideon pulled the small trowel out of his backpack and started to dig under the mark. He realized that the rock continued to angle back under the surface of the now wet soil, and quickly dug a hole about ten inches deep. He was about to give up when the trowel hit something hard, and rang out. Clang! He reached in with his hands and dug around the spot, coming up with the now familiar telescope tube and strip of leather.

  “Excellent! Now let’s get out of here!” Rei said.

  They found their way back to town uneventfully, if driving in Africa can ever be said to be uneventful. They got the motorbike into the Prado with the help of the young car sitter, and paid him handsomely for his apparently great work. Upon being asked, he had assured them that no one had come asking about the vehicle or the wazugus. They had no idea where to go for the night, and had a feeling that they were going to need an internet connection to help them decipher the next clue. That was not an easy task in a country like Mozambique where even power was scarce, much less an internet connection.

  Rei opened her phone. “You know, it’s so weird. I have a better signal on this iPhone here than most places at home! No 3G, though, just phone. But we could call Mr. Xavier to do the internet searches, if worse comes to worse.”

  “Let’s not talk about worse! Let’s just figure out where we can spend the night, and then go from there. It would sure help to have a map.”

  Rei pulled out the crinkled map that the hotel manager in Maputo had drawn. She flattened it out on the dashboard. After studying it a few moments, she poi
nted north of the dot that represented Inhambane.

  “Here. He put another dot.” She brought the paper close to her face. “I think it says… Massingo? Massinga? Something like that. It’s not too far. Ok, with the roads… it’s kinda far. But it’s out of Inhambane, and if it’s big enough for a dot, maybe it’s got a hotel. Or maybe we’ll pass something else on the way.”

  “A Motel 6?” Gideon put the car into gear and headed south.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  As it turned out, the Quinns only had to drive an hour and a half north before they found a suitable bed and breakfast. They saw a sign for the Kingfisher Resort as they went through a medium sized village, pointing east.

  “Should we take a look?” Gideon asked.

  “Why not? Although it’s hard to imagine much of a resort way out here.”

  After ten kilometers of badly rutted road, over which they were extremely thankful for their four wheel drive, they saw a grouping of thatched roofs in the distance, right on the beach. As they pulled into the gated drive, passing under an old weathered metal sign that said “Kingfisher Resort” in faded blue letters, they were amazed to find that it actually was a resort.

  Directly in front of them was a two level swimming pool, a small waterfall slide connecting the two. A bridge crossed over it to the left and led to the open air boma that housed the bar and restaurant. To the right was an enclosed traditional round house that had “office” painted on the side with a painting of a kingfisher next to it. The door was open. Gideon turned off the car and they got out, looking up at the tree full of weaver birds overhead, and they walked slowly to the office.

  “Incredible!” Rei breathed.

  “Talk about the middle of nowhere. Wow.” Gideon said.

  The African woman at the desk was most happy to offer them a double room, with an en suite bath. The hot water would be available from 6:00 to 8:00 in the morning and evening, when the fires were lit to heat a large cistern. Generators ran until 11:00 at night, and resumed at 7:00 in the morning. There was no internet on the property, and when Rei checked her phone, she had no signal. A bellhop helped them retrieve their luggage, and other than raising his eyebrows at the motorbike in the vehicle, said nothing. He led them to a round thatched cottage about halfway down the row. It was named “Eagle.”

  He unlocked the door with an old fashioned iron key, which he handed to Gideon. He opened the frowsy curtains and cranked open the windows to let in a fresh breeze.

  “They will put down the mosquito net while you are at dinner, rafiki. You ring this bell if you need anything, and someone will hear.” Gideon gave him a tip, and the young man bowed. “Asante!” He left them alone in the room.

  Gideon and Rei just stared after him, shell shocked.

  “How did we land here? And where the heck are we, anyway?” Rei finally asked.

  They wandered around the resort, relishing the quiet. Small dhows were beached on the sand. The pool was cool and refreshing. The bar served brilliant drinks in whole pineapples. The staff was all smiles, helpful but unobtrusive. There was only one other cottage occupied, by a Dutch family with two small children.

  Before dinner, they returned to their room and pulled out the new clue. It didn’t appear that the brothers of the Congratio a Achalichus had managed to follow them, and they hadn’t seen anything to cause alarm during their stroll. Rei sat on the edge of the bed and removed the shade from the small bedside lamp. She removed the familiar leather strap, and the top, and handed them to Gideon, who placed them carefully on the floor. He moved to sit beside her as she unrolled the scroll.

  The vellum, ink and handwriting were all the same.

  “Well?” Gideon asked after they’d both stared at it for a long moment.

  “Hand me my notebook. It’ll take me a little while. I should have done it earlier—it’s going to be dark soon, and this handwriting is so scritchy!”

  “Scritchy? Is that a technical word in the art preservation world?” Gideon teased. He handed her the notebook and a pen. “I’m going to go sit out by the pool and have another adult beverage. Let me know when you’re done.”

  Rei didn’t answer, immersed in the translation. Father Eduardo had what was probably fabulous penmanship for 1688, but not so fabulous from her point of view. The letters were rather tall and elongated, and the script bunched together. The capital letters at the start of the sentences were quite elaborate, and hard to read. Then there were the differences in spellings that four centuries brings. She reached for her purse and pulled out her reading glasses and the flashlight.

  After an hour, she wandered out to the pool, notebook in hand. Gideon was lying, in the dusky light, on a large hardwood lounge, looking up at the stars. She sat next to him and looked up. The sky, even while not yet completely dark, was ablaze with lights.

  “Did you finish?” he asked.

  “Yep. And we’re going to need help. I have no idea what he’s talking about… but if someone can figure it out, we know the next location.” She clicked on her flashlight started to read aloud.

  My son,

  I pray that this letter finds you in continued good health and spirits. You have come far from Portugal now, and there remain two more letters for you to find before you arrive in Goa, and the Throne. I continually pray that our choices are wise, and that these letters will withstand the test of time. Knowing not when you are making this journey, nor whom God has appointed to the task, I can only do my best. Pray God it is enough.

  From the Land of the Good People, I traveled inland, following the great Save River for much of the time. Many Portuguese were exploring the inner reaches of Africa, looking for the lost city of gold. There was gold to be found, to be sure, but perhaps not such a thing as a city made from it. I visited one ruin that was long rumored to have been the site of King Solomon’s mine. I did not realize the significance of such a name until I made my great discovery in Goa, of course, but our Lord does lead us on His divine paths.

  The Munhumutapa people near the place of the great Stone Houses. They traded with us for gold, and were a most civilized people, granting us much hospitality. They laughed at our inquiries of a great gold city, but were gracious to show us the home of their lost ancestors. It is a vast place, and upon returning, my task of discovering a safe hiding place has been the most difficult yet. But I pray that God will give you guidance, and that my choice is inspired by His Spirit.

  Your mother Isabel and I are well, and have had continued favor against our unknown enemies. We pray for your success each night, in the name of our Almighty Lord and His Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ.

  Joao Xavier

  X

  Written in the year of our Lord 1687

  “Wonderful. Stone houses somewhere in Africa. That’s very helpful,” Gideon said disgustedly.

  “It can’t be somewhere in all of Africa, because neither of his voyages lasted more than a year. If they traveled up the Save River for some of the way, that goes into Zimbabwe. Surely Mr. Xavier can find out some options from that information.”

  Gideon pulled out his phone. One dot. “No signal, except one speck of a bar… Let’s go see if the office is still open.”

  They walked to the office and found it locked tight. It was time for the dinner service, so they made their way to the open air boma and sat. When the waiter came with the short menu, they asked him about telephone service. He shook his head.

  “Hapana bwana. No sir. No telephone. You must go to the kijiji. The village.” He pointed inland.

  They thanked him and gave their order. When he came back, however, he had better news.

  “Bosi, he says Bwana Wandere have phone. Tomorrow.” He nodded and left.

  “Guess we find Mr. Wandere tomorrow morning, then, and wake up Mr. Xavier again,” Gideon said, tucking into the hot chapatti the waiter had left.

  At 8:00 the Quinns were at the office, pacing before the still locked door. Finally a young woman opened it, looking surprised to find g
uests standing outside.

  “May I help you please, bwana?” she asked Gideon.

  “We would like to speak to Mr. Wandere, if he’s available,” Gideon said.

  “Bwana Wandere not here yet, please. Will he to find you there?” She pointed to the restaurant.

  Gideon sighed and nodded. “Yes, we will have coffee. Thank you.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, please.” She smiled.

  They had had their coffee, eggs, toast and fruit before Mr. Wandere found them. He bowed and smiled.

  “My lady said that you need help, bwana? I am Wandere.” The tall African man grinned at them with dazzling white teeth.

  “Yes, thank you! We need to place a call to London, and we do not have any service on our phones.” Gideon held up his iPhone. “We were told that you have a phone? May we pay you for a call, sir?”

  Mr. Wandere’s face lit up. “Ah yes, indeed! It is very much to call to the London, you know. But I have much air time on my phone, and you are most welcome. Please to come to the office when you have done?”

  “Yes, we’ll be right there.” They signaled to the waiter, the same one as the previous night, who came forward, proud to have the one to provide Mr. Wandere to them.

  After a couple of “we are unable to connect your call at this time, please try again later” messages, they had finally reached Mr. Xavier and explained the situation to him. He agreed to do the internet research himself, and not assign it to his assistant, although he was skeptical of the need for quite that much secrecy. He was not the most prolific web surfer, so they expected it to take at least an hour, although they had left him with a list of specific search options to use.