Fifty

Protocol was permissive in some cases. These particular visitors would not arrive as petitioners, nor as foreign functionaries on the business of their sultan. They would be there at the Kalif's invitation-indeed at his request. Thus he could receive them in his study as well as in the receiving room, and he liked his study better.

Jilsomo was with him as usual. In this case, though, the exarch's role was not that of silent lieutenant, because the guests would be Elder Dosu, leader of the Assembly of Elders, and the four members of his executive council.

And Jilsomo had begun in the Pastorate. Further, he'd been the first man in 560 years to enter the College of Exarchs after beginning in the Pastorate, and from provincial Niithvoktos, at that. Add to that his gentry origins… In the Niithvoktu Pastorate he'd made his name as a negotiator-a diplomat, so to speak, a bringer together of factions. And a man of integrity and justice as well as intelligence.

He'd graduated from seminary at the unusually early age of nineteen, receiving his own parish at the even more remarkable age of twenty-one, an age when most pastoral candidates were still students. At twenty-six he'd become the youngest dean in the history of Niithvoktos. At twenty-nine he'd been appointed archdean, and liaison between the Niithvoktu Pastorate and the Niithvoktu Synod of Archprelates-the sultanate's equivalent of the Imperial College of Exarchs.

While Jilsomo was still short of his thirty-first birthday, a major Niithvoktu prelacy had been shamed by scandal and vacated by a declaration of anathema. Specifically, its prelate had extorted money from well-to-do gentry charged before him with crimes of character, some of which had been fabricated for the purpose.

As partial punishment, the sultan had stripped the family of its long-standing rights to a prelacy, and with the concurrence of the Synod of Archprelates had appointed the young Archdean Jilsomo to the diocesan throne, in part to ameliorate the deep offense felt by the gentry there.

Being an experiment, so to speak, he'd been under the continual scrutiny of his sultan, and the remarkable recovery of the diocese under his direction brought him an Archprelacy at thirty-four. At thirty-seven he'd been called to Varatos to serve as Collegial staff, and at thirty-nine appointed exarch by old Kalif Parthaalu, and assigned to the College. Every seminarian training for the Pastorate knew Jilsomo's name and honors.

Although the junior member of the College, he'd been the exarch most ready to disagree with, and even occasionally lecture Kalif Gorsu. And survived not only with his life but his position, presumably because of his non-censorious, matter-of-fact manner of criticism. Gorsu even seemed to hold a certain fondness for the exarch who was fatter than himself.

Thus Jilsomo knew intimately both sides of the Church: The Pastorate-that hierarchy responsible for the spiritual instruction, guidance, and welfare of the people from peasants to nobles; and the Prelacy-that parallel senior hierarchy responsible for the administrative and judicial governance of Kargh's empire and individual worlds. He was the Kalif's spokesman in any dealings with the Pastorate.

The five pastors came into the Kalif's study carrying umbrellas. Outside the thick glass garden doors, hard rain was a steady mumble on the canopy. The curtains had been drawn back, showing the downpour dancing violently on the patio.

"Your Reverence," Elder Dosu said, and bowed slightly. The bow was not required. If he'd wished to show disapproval of the Kalif, or even reserve toward him, he would have withheld it, and two of his council did.

The far younger Kalif bowed slightly in return. "Thank you, honored Elders, for coming. Would you like refreshment?" The offer was an especial courtesy, implying that he would not rush them, that his business with them had priority over any audiences scheduled to follow.

"No thank you, Your Reverence. We appreciate your generosity, but we have breakfasted, and we know your time is precious. We are also very curious as to why you asked us here."

The Kalif gestured at his aide. "Alb Jilsomo will tell you. I'm aware that not all your Assembly trusts me."

Their attention shifted to the exarch. "Kalif Coso has a proposal for your consideration," Jilsomo said. "In the second week of his reign, he told me that one of the things he wanted to accomplish during his tenure was to change the status of your estate in the Diet. From non-voting to voting."

He had their attention.

"Recently we discussed how it might be accomplished. He can, of course, simply proclaim it, but it falls under the Charter of Establishment, and thus would not take affect until the next autumnal equinox, when the new Diet is seated. And it can be blocked for an entire session by a majority voice vote of the House-blocked in the session proclaimed, or in the first meeting of the session following. Then, without the concurrence of the College, the House of Nobles by itself can repudiate the proclamation, or any proclamation that would alter the Charter, by a roll-call vote of sixty percent of its delegates."

Jilsomo looked around at the pastors. "You know, of course, the record on these things. Only one such proclamation has ever survived: the proclamation which provided the Pastorate its voice in the Diet, a voice without a vote. And that proclamation was issued by no less than Papa Sambak.

"In the few other instances when a Kalif has proclaimed a change in the Charter, it has been repudiated. And afterward, the noble delegates have felt it a point of principle to thwart and frustrate him. Under Kalif Kambara, this so crippled government that the College impeached and dethroned him.

"Thus, wishing a vote for the Pastorate and accomplishing it are two very different things, and in the press of kalifal operations, Kalif Coso lost sight of it at times. As did I. Elder Dosu's oratory the other day reminded us.

Jilsomo turned and nodded to the Kalif, who stood up then and spoke.

"You can see, I believe, why I requested that you not talk about this meeting to anyone outside yourselves. If the House learns of it, it will be more displeased with me than it already is."

He paused, looking them over. "If we succeed in gaining the vote for you, it will be because the stage has been set for it. The Pastorate must preach for it, from the pulpit in every house of worship, from the lectern in every school.

"Speak of it not only to the nobility, but to the gentry. It is the Elders, more than any, who speak for their interests in the Diet; now let gentry voices speak for you in the marketplaces and taverns. And speak occasionally of it to the peasants, for you are their principal friends, and it will gladden them to think that you may gain the vote."

He stopped and looked at them, his gaze direct. "And in time-not at the beginning-tell them you have a friend in the Diet. Tell them their Kalif is favorable to your aspiration. And when you preach to the nobles, tell them to tell their delegates to support you.

"In five years, or ten, or perhaps only two, you will have a large body of supporters in the work places and the marketplaces. And in the House of Nobles, the delegates will have gotten used to the idea. You'll have supporters among them, too, by then, and I can proclaim you a voting estate with some likelihood that the House will not repudiate it and punish me with recalcitrance."

He spread his hands. "I presume you have questions; I'll try to answer them."

A bald, thickly bearded Elder spoke from his chair. "You propose this only for your own purposes. There are millions of pastors on Varatos alone. By positioning yourself with us in this, you will draw strength from us-strengthen yourself in the Diet, and strengthen the prospect of obtaining funds for your proposed invasion."