A stone game board carved inside a medieval bathhouse in Morocco could rewrite what historians know about board games in early Islamic North Africa.

The discovery, published in the journal Libyan Studies, pushes back evidence for a game still played today by several centuries and sheds new light on social life in one of the region’s earliest Islamic settlements.

Tim Penn of the University of Reading led the study examining a previously unpublished game board at Walila, the site of ancient Roman Volubilis in Morocco. The board was carved into a stone step leading into a cold plunge pool inside a bathhouse, or “hammam,” built in the late eighth or early ninth century.

The structure was abandoned by the tenth or eleventh century. That narrow window gives researchers a rare, secure date for the board, something that is extremely difficult to establish for carved game boards found at ancient sites.

Morocco bathhouse yields a precisely dated medieval game board

The bathhouse was part of a larger complex that researchers believe served as the residence of Idrīs I, the founder of the Idrisid dynasty and one of the earliest Islamic rulers in North Africa.

Idrīs I arrived at Walila in 788 after fleeing the Hijaz and was declared imam by a local Berber tribe. The complex included a domestic building, a reception hall, and a storage compound, all built in a courtyard style more common to the Levant than North Africa.

The game board itself measures roughly 34 by 9.5 centimeters (13.4 by 3.7 inches) and consists of three rows of at least 13 small, shallow holes carved into the stone.

Researchers identified it as most likely used for “tab/sig,” a running-fight game in which two players move pieces across the board from opposite sides, trying to capture each other’s pieces. The game is still played in parts of North Africa, the Middle East, and Turkey today.

Tab identified as Walila’s ancient running-fight game

The identification matters because the first known written reference to tab appears in the work of Egyptian author Ibn Daniyāl, who died in 1310.

The Walila board predates that reference by roughly 400 to 500 years, suggesting the game has a far longer history in the region than texts alone would indicate.

Researchers also ruled out mancala, another widely played ancient game, because the Walila board’s holes are too shallow and too small to hold multiple playing pieces, which mancala requires. The odd number of holes per row also makes the mancala rules impractical.

Similar boards from the early Islamic period have been found in Arabia, the Middle East, and Portugal, but none had previously been confirmed anywhere in North Africa.

The broad distribution of these boards across the early Islamic world, and as far as Scandinavia, where a closely related game called “daldos” or “sahkku” was played, points to the game traveling through trade and cultural networks.

From Arabian trade routes to Scandinavian shores

At Walila, those connections to the east are well documented. Imported coins, glassware, and a wine jar from Egypt and the Levant were all recovered at the site.

The bathhouse itself uses a dry-heat system more closely linked to Levantine construction than to the Roman bathing tradition, further reinforcing ties to the Middle East. Researchers suggest the game may have arrived in Morocco with Idrīs I or members of his entourage.

The board sat at the center of the steps into the plunge pool, fully visible to anyone in the changing room or entering the water. Researchers noted that its prominent placement suggests gaming was openly accepted as part of the social experience of bathing.

Bone dice recovered from nearby buildings at the site further confirm that a range of games, including games of chance, were played at Walila during the early medieval period.

The study calls on archaeologists working across North Africa and the broader Mediterranean to document game boards more systematically, noting that carvings of this kind are routinely left out of excavation reports.

The story of the ring known as the “Ring of King Minos” sounds like a tale made in Hollywood. It is a mix of ancient Greek history, mythology, and a plot involving a poor boy, a cunning priest, an English archaeologist, and hidden treasure.

The story begins in 1928, when a boy, Michalis Papadakis (1918-1974), accidentally found a ring at the archaeological site of Knossos. The place of discovery alone meant that the ring certainly had a very long history attached to it probably even going back to the Minoan civilization.

Indeed, several decades later, the shiny, gold, seal ring proved to be 3,500 years old (1,500 to 1,400 BC), as archaeologists assured him, and his was the most significant discovery of Minoan Civilization.

The boy’s father, a destitute farmer named Emmanouil, for some unknown reason, hid the ring from his wife and, for another unknown reason, two years later, he handed it over to the village priest, Father Nikolaos Polakis. Yet, before giving it away, he carved a line on the ring with his knife in order to mark its originality.

Father Polakis initially presented it to English archaeologist Sir Arthur Evans with the intention of selling it. However, there was no deal struck between the two since the priest demanded an astronomical amount of money.

In 1933 or 1934, Father Polakis decided to take the ring to the Heraklion Museum. At the time, the distinguished archaeologists, Nikolaos Platon and Spyridon Marinatos, were on the staff of the institution. Platon decided that the ring was genuine while Marinatos believed the ring was a fake.

Since the two archaeologists could not come to an agreement, they decided it was best to return the ring to the priest.

However, Platon kept a copy of the ring by casting it in plasticine. The cast was later located in Platon’s archive. Several years later, he manifested a new interest in the ring and returned to the priest to ask for it. Father Polakis told him that he had given it to his wife for safekeeping, but she had lost it.

Minos ring depicts three themes

Platon wrote a treatise on the ring saying that it depicts three themes: the Minoans’ rule of the seas (“thalassocracy”), tree worship (dendrolatry), and a goddess descending from heaven to earth and getting into a row boat.

There are other, more recent interpretations of the depictions of the ring including the worship of goddesses, such as Mother Dimitra, and offerings to the Great Mother Rhea and the Great Mother Artemis.

For some time, the ring remained lost. The only information about the ring came from the copies that had been made and a number of archaeological reports which were associated with those copies.

Many years later, when Father Polakis was in his final days, he felt great regret about the “disappearance” of the precious ring. He called Evangelia Papadakis, the wife of the farmer Emmanouil, and apologized for lying to her family. He admitted that he had actually sold the ring to Evans, the English archaeologist, for 100,000 drachmas back in 1938.
However, that was one last lie by the cunning priest. What he had actually sold to Evans was a fine replica of the ring.

Evans had returned to England with the belief that he had bought the actual ring, along with a copy, and donated both, along with other precious artifacts, to the Ashmolean Museum. Today, two replicas of the legendary ring continue to be exhibited at the Ashmolean.

The story of the ring was forgotten for decades, but in the early 2000s, Giorgos Kazantzis, a retired police officer, inherited the house of the priest who was the last person in Greece who had had possession of the priceless artifact.

During renovation work, Kazantzis found a jar hidden inside the wall next to the fireplace. Inside the jar was a ring, which indeed proved to be the original Ring of King Minos. It even had the scratch made by Papadakis over seventy years ago.

Kazantzis delivered the precious artifact to the state, and in 2002, the Central Archaeological Council and a panel of expert archaeologists confirmed the authenticity of the ring. The actual monetary value of the ring was estimated to be €400,000 although its cultural value is incalculable.

Yet, for finding the ring and promptly delivering it to the appropriate authorities, Kazantzis was given a measly finder’s fee of €440.

Today, the priceless, gold Minoan ring is exhibited in all its splendor at the Heraklion Archaeological Museum.

Alexander the Great’s (356-323 BC) death meant his vision for a Greco-Persian Empire was extinguished with him—or was it?

A hodgepodge of East and West, Mithridates’ Pontic Empire emerges as a compelling possibility of what Alexander’s empire could’ve been, a faint apparition of that fleeting dream.

Alexander 2.0

Mithridates (135–63 BC) was the inheritor of two cultures and, naturally, an incarnation of two worlds. He delighted in his Macedonian heritage as much as his Persian forbearers.

Claiming Macedonian ancestry on one side and Persian dynastic lineage on the other, Mithridates used his mixed descent to reveal the commonalities between his diverse subjects.

Taking on Alexander’s mantle of global empire, Mithridates envisioned an alternative to Roman supremacy, a new world order.

To achieve this ambitious aim, the Pontian King united his Greek, Anatolian, and Persian subjects under an anti-Roman cross-cultural coalition.

The result of this cooperation was three wars mounted against Rome, wars that escalated to the point of genocide.

How could he amass such a diverse following against such a formidable foe?

Mithridates took a page from Alexander’s book and embodied East and West, both in appearance and idea. 

Pontus: Alexander’s vision of empire?

Mithridates hailed from the Kingdom of Pontus, a cultural melting pot that Alexander the Great would have approved of.

The north of Pontus’s snow-clad Alps was a largely Hellenic-dominated coastline. There, Greek colonists had erected the city of Sinope, Mithridates’ capital.

The historian Strabo, himself a Pontian, claimed that it was “the most noteworthy of the cities in the region.”

South of the Alps was known as Katpatuka (land of horses) by the Iranians and, later, Cappadocia by the Greeks. There, villages predominated apart from a few settlements, such as Amaseia, Strabo’s hometown, and Cabeira.

While Hellenic culture dominated the coast, the Cappadocian hinterland preserved its old Anatolian non-Greek heritage. Rostovtzeff (1932), a pioneer in Pontic history, described the Hellenic influence around the Black Sea as “a thin Greek shell around a hard native kernel.”

The third influence on the region was Iranian. The enduring relics of Persian rule would have been visible to many a Hellenistic Pontian. Strabo says that the Pontic people took sacred vows at the state temple, Zela, which were dedicated to Persian deities: Anaitis, Omanus, and Anadatus.

Moreover, Zeus Stratios, most likely a syncretic reincarnation of Ahura Mazda, received lavish offerings from Persian Kings, which Pontian rulers, including Mithridates Eupator, continued. The continuation of Persian religious customs well after an eclipse of Achaemenid authority attests to the impression Persian presence had made on Pontic royalty and their subjects.

In the subsequent Hellenistic period, the increasing pace of Hellenization of the kingdom meant that the Mithridates Dynasty had to evolve.  There needed to be a balance between the new incoming wave of this ancient form of globalization with their Perso-Anatolian traditions that still held sway in their domain. 

Divine descent

Mithridates Eupator’s dual lineages afforded him illustrious ancestors and a unique hybrid set of dynastic customs. He was a Helleno-Persian Prince who practiced mixed religious rites.

Mithradates divine connections are well in accordance with Alexander the Great’s own claims. Like the Pontic King, Alexander claimed Heracles and Dionysus, among other numinous figures, as ancestors.

Consequently, the Pontic King embodied redemptive qualities resonating in the Greek and Perso-Anatolian worlds. For the Greeks, he established a mythical connection with Dionysus, the god of liberation and new beginnings, and took the theonym Mithridates Eupator Dionysus.

Likewise, Mithridates claimed heritage from Herakles, who emancipated the titan Prometheus, humanity’s creator. On the other hand, Mithridates’ star-signaling birth was said to fulfill Persian prophecies of a coming savior from the East, as did his name, “Mithras-sent.” 

Global principles

In addition to religious mediation, Mithridates weaponized the growing resentment of his subjects. Just like Alexander’s vision for his diverse empire, the Pontian King tried to respect Greek and Iranian values.

Both Greeks and Perso-Anatolians were chafing under Roman occupation. In mainland Greece and Anatolia, the common hatred towards Roman rule provoked a transcultural antagonism against Roman hegemony.

Debt accrued by Roman taxation hindered asa or Truth, a prominent Persian tenet. For the Greeks, Roman occupation was seen as compromising their eleutheria, or freedom, which was fundamental to Greek identity.

Mithridates acknowledged these grievances in his speeches, along with coins and other allusions. By showing sensitivity to both cultures, the Pontian King illustrated how compatible Iranian and Greek cultures could be.

This may be surprising, considering the tumultuous history that plagued the relations between Greeks and Iranians. Egregious crimes were committed in Athens by the Persians and by Greeks in Persepolis at Alexander’s instigation as punishment.

Yet Mithridates successfully harmonized the two cultures, as Alexander the Great’s policies aimed to accomplish.

Was Mithridates’ Pontian kingdom what Alexander’s empire could have been?

Sensitive to Greek and Perso-Anatolian culture, Mithridates entangled much of the Eastern Mediterranean in opposition to Rome. Mithridates carried on Alexander’s vision for an international empire even though he was unsuccessful in his wars against Rome. By doing so, the Pontian king proved Alexander the Great’s Helleno-Persian hypothesis was possible.

Alexander’s vision for joining East and West wasn’t an idyllic dream but was ultimately an achievable reality. 

The Turkish Ministry of Culture and Tourism has officially declared the Granicus Battlefield—where Alexander the Great secured his first major victory against the Persian Empire—a “protected historical and archaeological site.”

According to a ministry announcement and statements shared on social media by Culture and Tourism Minister Mehmet Nuri Ersoy, the decision was based on recent archaeological discoveries and scientific studies in the Biga district of Çanakkale (Dardanelles).

Following extensive field surveys, scientific data evaluation, and the analysis of ancient sources linked to the Battle of the Granicus, the Çanakkale Regional Council for the Conservation of Cultural Property determined that the area meets all criteria for designation as an archaeological site.

The ministry highlighted the location as one of the most iconic landmarks in military history, marking the definitive starting point of Alexander the Great’s triumph over the Persian Empire.

Battle of the Granicus: “A Turning Point in World History”

In a social media post, Minister Mehmet Nuri Ersoy stated:

“We have officially placed the grounds of a battle that reshaped world history under state protection. The Granicus Battlefield, where Alexander the Great achieved his first major victory against the Persians and paved his way into Asia, has now been designated a ‘historical site.’ Located in Biga, Çanakkale, this unique landmark is officially protected in light of archaeological finds and rigorous scientific research. We believe this crucial step will significantly contribute to historical scholarship, boost cultural tourism, and enrich our country’s cultural routes.”

The Battle of Granicus

The Battle of the Granicus, fought in May 334 BC near modern-day Biga in northwestern Turkey, was Alexander the Great’s dramatic opening salvo against the Persian Empire. Having recently crossed the Hellespont into Asia Minor with roughly 32,000 infantry and 5,100 cavalry, the 21-year-old Macedonian king confronted a combined force of local Persian satraps (governors) and highly capable Greek mercenaries.

The Persians, positioned defensively along the steep, muddy eastern banks of the Granicus River, hoped to neutralize Alexander’s aggressive tactical style by forcing him to fight from a disadvantageous position in the water. Rejecting the cautious advice of his veteran general Parmenion to delay the attack, Alexander ordered an immediate, highly risky amphibious assault in broad daylight.

The engagement quickly devolved into a chaotic, brutal melee within the riverbed and up the muddy slopes. Alexander personally led the elite Companion Cavalry from the right wing, instantly becoming a prime target due to his conspicuous, brightly plumed helmet.

The fighting was so fierce that Alexander was nearly killed; a Persian noble shattered his helmet with a battleaxe, and just as another was about to deliver a fatal blow, his captain Cleitus the Black severed the attacker’s arm, saving the young king’s life.

Once the formidable Macedonian phalanx (infantry formation) crossed the river to support the cavalry, the Persian battle lines shattered. The victory was absolute: the Persian leadership was decimated, the surviving Greek mercenaries were ruthlessly executed or enslaved, and the psychological myth of Persian invincibility was shattered, effectively throwing open the gates of Asia Minor to Alexander’s conquering army.

Related: Archaeologists Identify Location of Alexander the Great’s Battle of Granicus