An hour and a half later, the Kalif was chairing the College of Exarchs. Alb Drova had given the invocation, and the Kalif had called the meeting to order.
"I presume," he said, "that some of you have comments you want very much to voice. About yesterday. So instead of starting with a review of issues and assignments from the last meeting, I'll take comments and questions. Tariil?"
The burly exarch rose and voiced comments much like those Jilsomo had voiced the afternoon before. And around the long oval table, heads bobbed agreement. When Tariil had finished, the Kalif spoke from his chair.
"Good friend," he said mildly, "Alb Jilsomo has scolded me already, for much the same things, and I've given my behavior serious review. My initial reaction, after Jilsomo was done scathing me... No, that's not fair. He didn't scathe me, just spoke bluntly. And when he was finished, it seemed to me he'd made compelling points, but that my act being done and my words already spoken, I'd have to make the best I can of it.
"By morning's light, though, it seems to me that my actions and words were basically correct, even though conceived in anger." He raised his hands to still their murmurs. "Let me elaborate. First, I established myself as formidable. Too many liberties were being taken against the throne and against myself, and by extension against the Prelacy.
"And next—Here in the Sreegana we tend to lose touch with the people and how they look at things. We cannot ignore the strong tradition of protecting one's women—wife as well as mother—whether physically or against verbal insult. Had I not taken strong personal action—personal action—the people would have lost some respect for me.
"At the same time, of course, I established myself as a man willing to risk his life in a matter of honor, albeit the risk was smaller than it might have seemed."
One exarch was too beside himself to wait for recognition, calling out: "The people do not vote in the Diet!"
The Kalif did not reply directly to the outburst, simply looked a long rebuke at the man before continuing mildly as before. "In the House of Nobles, the animosity I may have caused—undoubtedly caused—will persist and be troublesome only among those who were already hostile to me." He looked the exarchs over pointedly. "While of course I will expect support from all the members of this College."
In fact, he knew that if the vote were held that day, at least four of them, perhaps as many as seven, would vote against the invasion funds.
"Meanwhile, there are the military and the gentry. Nathiir, in his harangue, helped make me look good to the military by his own implied derogation of them. And he's long been even more notorious than most in his party for his hostility toward anything favorable to the gentry. His death at my hand will increase the sentiment for me among them, and by extension, sentiment for my intended invasion. As for the military, most of the officers are noble, and they influence their families and friends. They also vote for caucus delegates."
He raised a calming hand. "I know. I know. The gentry have no vote for anything. But they are a factor, because one, they're numerous, and two, they're increasingly discontented, have even been a major element in recent disturbances, which worries our brethren in the House. Who were already worried about the growing discontent among the lesser nobility, who predominate in the officer corps. If the gentry, along with the military, voice strong sentiments for invasion, some noble delegates will begin to think in terms of reducing the number of military voices by sending them off to the Confederation. To conquer worlds where gentry malcontents can be sent to take land for their own."
The exarch who'd interrupted before, surged to his feet. "Your Reverence, I am dismayed! That our Kalif considers only expediency and not principles!"
The man stood visibly shaking with indignation. The Kalif said nothing though, until, deflating, the exarch settled back onto his chair. Then, in a voice dry but not harsh, the Kalif responded. "Alb Riisav, we have rules of order in this College. I appreciate that you're upset, but I will not tolerate another outburst."
He waited a moment before continuing. "As for expediency and principles—They are not incompatible, not mutually exclusive. As necessary, I use expediency in the service of principle."
He paused to examine his audience. It still was not happy with him, but he'd blunted its upset. "Well. Do I have your approval to let this matter be and go on to business held over from our last meeting?"
He did, of course. And from there went to new business. Without mentioning his visit to the House of SUMBAA, nor any of what he'd learned there. That would wait for a better time.