Remo nodded. The House of Sinanju had been home to the greatest assassins the world had ever known for more than five millennia. Remo and Chiun were the latest in a long line of Sinanju Masters that dated back to prehistory.

"When Charlemagne had himself crowned emperor, it was thought that he would give rise to an empire as great as that of ancient Rome," Chiun said. "This in spite of his dubious flirtation with Catholicism."

"Didn't he?"

"Certainly not. The fool set up educational systems in monasteries and encouraged literacy among his advisers. He aided the Roman church in winding its wretched tentacles throughout his vast conquered territories. His lunacy led to what is called the Carolingian Renaissance."

"I take it from your tone there wasn't much work for the House back then," Remo said.

"Work?" Chiun balked. "The fool created a civilization. Assassins cannot function where men are civilized. Even when he embarked on his idiotic crusades, he conscripted local help. The House never got a single day's work from the impostor Carolus."

Chiun was silently thoughtful for a pregnant moment. "Well, perhaps one," he admitted.

Remo tore his eyes away from the gray roadway. "Are you telling me we bumped off Charlemagne?"

Chiun turned a level eye on Remo. "The man believed in education and religion. His interference in history led directly to the Christian West, the Magna Carta and-worst of all-American democracy. You tell me."

Remo looked back to the road "We did in Charlemagne," he said, shrugging to himself.

"A blot on the European continent that has never been erased. He gave an insufferable air of smugness to you whites that lives to this day."

"Listen, can we get through this last trip without the race-baiting?" Remo begged.

"You brought it up," Chiun challenged.

"All I said was I thought that cathedral was impressive," Remo said.