"Your Reverence, do not try to intimidate me. It will change nothing. And whether I have questions or not is beside the point. Certainly others will, and they will ask them publicly, not here in chamber."
"Your Reverence," Drova broke in, "there is a way of answering such questions. I'm sure the young woman would agree to a medical examination…"
The Kalif's eyes flashed brief anger, but his reply to the old exarch was mild. "What would you have us do? Humiliate her, the kalifa to be, by publicizing that she had been examined and that her hymen was intact? That would be offensive and totally unacceptable, to me if not to her. In fact, this discussion is offensive."
This time Bijnath spoke. "Your Reverence, it need not be publicized. Let her be examined by your own physician. And have him testify to us that she is-intact. Then we will say we accept her as fit, and if anyone wishes to guess at why, that will be only their guess."
The Kalif frowned darkly, fists clenched at his sides, then shook his head. Before he said anything more, though, Jilsomo spoke.
"Your Reverence."
The Kalif turned to him. "Yes?"
"If Alb Bijnath's proposal is not acceptable to you, perhaps Neftha could testify privately to me. Then, assuming the answer is what we hope, and if my fellows of the council would accept my word for it…"
"Your Reverence," said Bijnath, "I, for one, would be happy to accept Jilsomo's word on it."
"And I," said Drova.
The Kalif shot a hard look at his lieutenant, then Tariil added his voice, though without enthusiasm. "I will accept that, Your Reverence, if you will."
Coso Biilathkamoro sat frowning past them for a long moment before saying anything more. Then he looked at Thoga Khaliyamathog. "I have not heard from you, Alb Thoga."
"You will do what you want regardless of me. Probably regardless of any of us, but now that the rest have knuckled under, what I feel is of little consequence."
"Do you accept Jilsomo's proposal, Alb Thoga, or do you not?"
The sour-faced exarch bent his stylus in his fingers. "If the rest accept-then I, too."
"Thank you. Then, Jilsomo, I accept your offer. Stay, and we shall make arrangements. The rest of you-I thank you for your consideration. Council is now adjourned till Fourday."
The Kalif and Alb Jilsomo walked side by side without talking till they reached the Kalif's apartment.
"I hope Your Reverence will excuse my forwardness in council," Jilsomo said then. "It seemed that something was necessary. Simply to override them is destructive of your overall leadership. And you need them, Your Reverence. The rest of the College tends to follow their lead, and you have difficult months ahead in the Diet."
The Kalif nodded ruefully. "I'm afraid I don't brook opposition well in such personal matters."
"When shall I see your physician, Your Reverence? And where?"
"At his office, this afternoon at four. Unless I let you know otherwise. He may have a conflicting appointment."
"At four then. I'll call him. Do you need me further this morning, Your Reverence?"
"I don't think so. No."
"Well then, if you'll excuse me." Jilsomo bowed slightly and left.
The Kalif sat down at his commset and touched keys. "Neftha, is there any problem in coming to my apartment now? I need to speak with you… Good. Come by the blue corridor… Five minutes will be fine. Thank you."
He notified the door guards to let Neftha in, then sat back in thought. He'd been handling the council poorly this morning. No, not poorly; damned badly. It was lucky Jilsomo had stepped in. He'd want the support of every exarch possible in the Diet; to pass a special appropriation required approval by seventy percent of the combined two estates: the Prelacy, represented by the College, and the nobility, represented by the House of Nobles. And the College had only eighteen votes, the Nobles twenty-seven.
On the other hand, a Kalif couldn't let himself appear weak or soft. It was better to be overbearing than flabby. But it was better still to seem reasonable while strong.
Neftha arrived in less than five minutes, and was let in. "Your Reverence wanted to see me."
"Right. I need a statement from you. Given orally to Alb Jilsomo. About Tain Faronya."
"Yes, Your Reverence?"
"You will tell him you've made a physical examination of Miss Faronya. You will not tell him when. He'll assume it was later today."
"Yes, sir."
The Kalif's eyes fixed the man. "And you will tell him you found no evidence that she is not a virgin."
The physician had trouble answering. "Your Reverence… I-"
"Good friend, I do not ask you to lie. Truly, you found no evidence that she is not a virgin. You simply failed to find evidence that she is. Surely you see the distinction?"
Neftha avoided his eyes. "Yes, Your Reverence," he said unhappily.
"So then. What will you tell Jilsomo when he sees you at four o'clock?"
"I-That I have examined Miss Faronya. And found no evidence that she is not a virgin. But, Your Reverence-What do I say if he asks me further questions? He's an exarch!"
The Kalif raised an eyebrow. "Further questions are unlikely, if you speak positively enough. Practice if you need to. And seem busy, slightly impatient. Above all, speak firmly. As if you were telling him he must stop eating so much."
He grinned at Neftha, surprising the man. "Do not expect further questions and you're less likely to get any. And if he does ask, simply repeat what you'd already said; tell him that should be plain enough for anyone. Sound exasperated."
When the physician had left, the Kalif's mood slumped. He got to his feet and went into the garden feeling troubled, depressed. It seemed to him he wasn't handling things as well as he should: council, physician, even Jilsomo.
Well, to rule had never been easy, even for kalifs who'd held the throne in uneventful times. Having known Tain, it seemed to him he could never marry anyone else, and if marrying her made the next months more difficult, they at least would pass quickly.
When it came down to it, Neftha couldn't face possible questions from Jilsomo. So he lied to the exarch, telling him the alien woman was indeed a virgin.
"I've spoken with Neftha," Jilsomo said. "Ill reassure the council tomorrow. There's no need for them to wait till Fourday, and it will free their minds of the question."
Alb Jilsomo Savbatso was harder than most men for the Kalif to read; his face was mobile only in the service of his mind, and his eyes were not transparent. But it seemed to the Kalif that the fat exarch must suspect, given what he already knew.
"A question, Your Reverence, if I may."
"Ask."
"Why did you bring up the matter of marriage this morning in council? Or have you decided to wed her sooner than you'd planned?"
"We'll marry in three weeks. She'll receive tutoring from a bride's aunt next week; I wanted to bring it up to the council before that."
Jilsomo's eyebrows questioned the apparent non sequitur.
"At this time," the Kalif went on, "no one knows of my plans except the council and Neftha. Except of course for Tain and I. If there's a traitor, an untrustworthy member in the council, this may well be something he'll pass on to my opponents in the House. And if he does, it will come forcefully to my attention in the Diet."
Jilsomo nodded. In the past, almost all kalifs had named to their councils men who would not disagree chronically or sharply with them. Coso Biilathkamoro, different in so many things, had named, along with others, the conservative Alb Tariil, who opposed him more often than not and who was very influential in the College. And the irascible Alb Thoga, whose hostility could be depended on. "To keep an eye on their actions and a finger on their pulses," was how the Kalif had explained his appointments.