Chapters (45)
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
- NUMA 4 - White Death
The sky-blue eyes in the ruddy face danced with pleasure at the sound of the familiar voice ofKurt Austin.
“To the contrary, Kurt m'lad. I'm like Hansel and Gretel. Follow the food crumbs, and you'll find me nibbling at the gingerbread house.”
“It was easier to follow the suggestion of your housekeeper. She told me you were in Italy. How's the tour going?”
Perlmutter patted his substantial stomach. “It's very fulfilling, to say the least. All goes well in the District of Columbia, I trust?”
“As far as I know. I just flew back from Copenhagen last night.”
“Ah, the city ofHans Christian Andersen and the Little Mermaid. I remember when I was there some years ago, there was this restau- rant I dined at-”
Austin cut Perlmutter off before he launched into a course-by- course account of his meal. “I'd love to hear about it. But right now, I need your historical expertise.”
“Always willing to talk about food or history. Fire away.” Perl- mutter was often asked to lend his expertise to NUMA queries.
“Have you ever come across a Basque mariner by the name of Diego Aguirrez? Fifteenth or sixteenth century.”
Perlmutter dug into his encyclopedic mind. “Ah yes, something to do with the Song of Roland, the epic French poem.”
“Chanson de Roland? I struggled through that as part of a high school French course.”
“Then you know the legend. Roland was the nephew of the em- peror Charlemagne. He held off the Saracens at Roncesvalles with the help of his magic sword, Durendal. As he was dying, Roland beat his sword against a rock to keep it out of the hands of his enemies, but it wouldn't break. He blew his horn to summon help. Charle- magne, hearing it, came with his armies, but it was too late. Roland was dead. Through the centuries, Roland became a Basque hero, a symbol of their stubborn character.”
“How do we get from Roland to Aguirrez?”
“I recall a reference to the Aguirrez family in an eighteenth cen- tury treatise on pre-Columbian voyages to the Americas. Aguirrez was said to have made many fishing trips to North American waters decades before Columbus's voyage. Unfortunately, he ran afoul of the Spanish Inquisition. There were unverified reports he had been en- trusted with the Roland relics.”
“From what you say, the Roland story was not just a legend. The sword and the horn actually existed.”
“The Inquisition apparently thought so. They feared the relics could be used to rally the Basques.”
“What happened to Aguirrez and the relics?” “They both disappeared. There is no record of a shipwreck that I can recall. May I ask what prompts your interest in the subject?” "I met a descendant of Diego Aguirrez. He's retracing the voyage
of his long-lost ancestor, but he never said anything about sacred relics."