"I will consult with the colonel, who'll be too disheartened to oppose her request. Thus their marriage will be annuled."

The two prelates walked on a little farther, the Kalif waiting for the exarch's comment. "Your Reverence," Jilsomo said at last, "it may well work. But-why? Why this charade when you could simply grant the woman a divorce?"

"Because the colonel was impotent, he could not have fornicated with the female prisoner. Of course, it's just possible that he didn't anyway. And if he did not fornicate with her, then so far as we know, she's a virgin. And if she's a virgin…" The Kalif looked hard at his deputy. "If she's a virgin, then I can take her to wife."

The two men were approaching a grove of flowering vaasera when the Kalif said this, and Jilsomo, stunned, stepped aside to sit down on a cushioned marble bench in their heavy shade. The Kalif sat down beside him. "You have misgivings," he said, almost accusingly.

Jilsomo nodded. "It sounds contrived, Your Reverence. People will say you set this all up so you could marry the beautiful foreigner."

"Possibly. But I'll take care of that by waiting before arranging the marriage. Long enough that any suspicions will not seem compelling."

Jilsomo gathered his wits and looked at the situation. He was, after all, expected to advise. "Hmm. That would work, if you waited a year, say, or maybe half a year. But a few weeks won't be long enough. Someone, no doubt various someones, will say, 'Look at what the Kalif has done!' And the accusation will spread like wildfire; most people will at least wonder."

The Kalif said nothing, but his jaw was set.

"And-Forgive my saying it, Your Reverence, but you do not know the young woman."

The jaw muscles clenched, standing out like un-shelled pecans.

"You're angry at me," Jilsomo said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not!… Yes I am. I am angry. I'm still a young man, thirty-six, and I have never been in love before. Now I am, and I deserve to have her. If she is willing."

He turned to face the big exarch, almost glaring. "Haven't I given the empire its best government in more than a century? That's what they say of me-the professors in the university and even some of the noble delegates. Even Tariil has said it, and he resists half the things I propose, as if I were Shatim. At least I've made a case for it, whether it's true or not. Even my opponents, most of them, will give me the benefit of that."

Jilsomo shook his head. "Your Reverence, many undoubtedly will. But others will say, 'Look! The Kalif has done a dishonest act for his personal benefit! Why can't we then?' And, 'How can he punish these others?' "

"They will get their answer," the Kalif said sharply. "I will punish corruption as harshly as ever." Chodrisei "Coso" Biilathkamoro looked challengingly at his lieutenant for a long half minute, then sagged, looked away, and spoke quietly.

"Thank you for speaking your mind, good friend. And forgive my temper. But I am going to do it. And you will back me, and see that others do.

"We fear too much what people will say. I will do it, and most of those who disbelieve me will say 'the Kalif is human, but he is a very good Kalif,' and wish me well."

Perhaps, he's right, Jilsomo thought. Or more right than wrong. No Kalif in living memory, probably no Kalif since Papa Sambak, has ruled so well. And many people, most people, will be tolerant. But it will give his opponents in the Diet a stick to jab him with. "Nothing I can say will sway you then?" Jilsomo asked.

The Kalif didn't answer, and after waiting, the exarch spoke again. "Well then, you will do it. And I will back you. Because of our friendship and because you're right when you say you're the best ruler the empire has had in a long time. And if it becomes a question before the College or the Diet, I will see that others back you, too; as you said."

He paused. "Perhaps I am making too much of this. But till now…"

"Yes?"

"Till now your ethics in office have been unstained, and the people have had government by law. Conditions greatly to be desired and admired. And your strongest points before both the College and the Diet."

The Kalif's mouth pursed. "Good friend," he said quietly, "they haven't yet seen my strongest point."

Thirteen

The Kalif was reading a report on his screen and dictating a running commentary to his computer, when his commset interrupted him. "Your Reverence, your physician is here."

He pushed back from his desk. "Send him in." A moment later the man entered. The Kalif motioned him to a chair. "Yes, Neftha?"

"Your Reverence, the female detainee is healthy in every physical respect. And I must tell you, she is the loveliest woman I have ever seen." He raised a hand as if to ward off comment. "It's true that most of the women I examine are in their middle years or older, the wives of your exarchs, but…"

The Kalif cut him short. "Who were young in their turn. Yes. What else did you learn?"

"Her health is excellent. I already said that, didn't I? And her physical strength is exceptional. I have never personally examined so strong a woman."

He stopped, not meeting the Kalif's eyes, then went on. "As for the other matter-She might well make someone a very good wife." He stressed the someone just slightly. "But-Her hymen is not intact. Of course, that could be the result of an accident or self abuse; those things are not rare. And in the presence of such beauty, I doubt most men would object to its absence. But to-some men it would disqualify her; they couldn't be sure she was a virgin. Nor can she vouch for it herself, with her memory gone."

"Surely other means exist for learning the truth of it?" the Kalif said thoughtfully. As if the report had been unexpected.

"None, Your Reverence. Not short of her recovering her memory and declaring it under instrumentation."

The Kalif sat purse-mouthed. At length he grunted. "So the examination proved neither innocence nor otherwise. Well. There was no indication of violence?"

"None, Your Reverence."

"But that means little, I suppose."

"Not on the matter of virginity, Your Reverence."

The Kalif said nothing for several seconds, then grunted. "Well. Thank you for your information, Neftha. You will, of course, keep this to yourself."

"By all means, Your Reverence. I have made a chart, but recorded only matters relevant to her actual health."

"Good. And you do have my appreciation. Now I have things to do."

The physician got quickly to his feet. "Of course, Your Reverence."

The Kalif watched the door close behind him, then pressed a key on his commset. "Partiil, call the guest house. Tell them to bring the female prisoner to my office. I wish to question her again." Then he remembered his boyhood, and his sister's need to prepare before she went anywhere. "In one hour," he added.

He stood as she entered. She was dressed in yellow this time, but to his untrained eyes the costume seemed otherwise similar. Lady Leolani's work, he felt sure. He'd approved her request to let Tain share her apartment and servants, and allowed them to shop escorted. Tain had no doubt caused a stir, he thought, with her face, hair, eyes, skin. Her grace. Her long legs.

"Tain," he said, "please be seated."

She sat down as gracefully as before. He repeated her name, tasting the sound of it. "Tain. That's a lovely name. And you are a very lovely woman."

He saw the flicker of fear behind her eyes. It may take time to lose that, he thought, and spoke on. "In most respects a Kalif is not unlike other men, a mixture of good and bad. I like to think that I am more good than bad." He smiled slightly. "Hopefully quite a bit more.

"In some respects a Kalif has more freedoms than most men, but in other matters he has the same limits. Thus he may wish to marry someone, but she may refuse him." He raised his hands slightly, spreading them. "I would like to marry you, Tain. If you are willing."