Read Night of the Eye for Free Online

river, including Berwick’s own ships from Hillfort.” Cormac sighed again and tossed back more port. “But it’s not to be.”
    With a disapproving eye, Rietta watched his drinking. “As usual, Cormac, you’re not using your head.”
    “I endeavor to, whenever possible.” Cormac’s perpetual scowl at his wife deepened. “Should I infer from your tone that you have the answer that has eluded me?”
    “As usual.” She strode to his desk and removed the nearly empty bottle of port to a distant shelf. “And, as usual, it’s right under your cherry-red nose.” He scowled again at her inference. “Propose another union between the families.”
    “Of course I thought of that, but you can’t possibly mean Honora,” Cormac said. “You have loftier ambitions for your daughter than to marry her into a merchant family.”
    Rietta raised one thin, dark brow. “Don’t be absurd.”
    “I know you look forward to the day, but you can’t mean to offer up Kirah,” he said, tapping the desk with the quill. “Even if she weren’t too young, her marriage would mean that I’d
pay
a dowry, not receive one. That goes for Honora, too.” Scratching his temple, he thought for a moment more. “Bram is also too young. Even Berwick, desperate as he is for a noble connection, would not promise Ingard for a marriage to one so much younger than she.”
    “Ingrid,” Rietta corrected. “You’re right. Bram is out of the question. He’s going to become a Knight of the Rose, like my father, and his father before him, and—”
    “Yes, I know, like all male Cuissets, back to Vinus Solamnus,” interrupted Cormac in an unflattering imitation of Rietta’s own haughty voice. “A bunch of pansy-assed, overdressed, magic-wielding charlatans.”
    If Rietta had had any respect for Cormac, his words might have angered her. They didn’t. “You’re such a peasant, Cormac. But that’s an old argument I don’t wish to pursue now.” She straightened her skirts needlessly. “You’ve forgotten Guerrand.”
    Cormac threw his head back and laughed at the absurd suggestion. “Don’t you remember? We eliminated Guerrand as a possibility before we offered up Quinn. The reason hasn’t changed. He’s a wastrel.”
    Rietta leaned over the desk toward her husband, her expression intent. “It’s true the reason hasn’t changed, but the circumstances have. Now he’s the only son available. You said yourself that Berwick is desperate. You simply have to persuade him that Guerrand
has
changed.” Rietta snickered unkindly. “That tradesman hasn’t many options with a daughter like his.”
    “What if Guerrand doesn’t agree?”
    Rietta sighed with exasperation. “You’ll have to help him see that he hasn’t many—any—options. Threaten to cut him off. He hasn’t any means of support besides you, has he? He hasn’t completed his training as a cavalier, so he’s not likely to run off and join a crusade. Appeal to his sense of DiThon family loyalty. Make him see that he’d be doing it for family and castle—and to make himself more comfortable.”
    Rietta’s words sounded surprisingly reasonable to Cormac, yet he doubted the comfort argument would gain him ground with his indolent half brother. Guerrand seemed unconcerned about material things. Cormac had never been able to use that as leverage to get Guerrand to do anything he didn’t already want to do.
    “For Kiri-Jolith’s sake, Cormac, you’re the lord and master here!” Rietta cut into his musings. “Don’t ask him, just tell him he has to do it. Guerrand wanted to become a mage, not a cavalier. Yet you forced him to train as the latter, and he seems to have forgotten the former.”
    Secretly, Cormac did not consider that subject a victory, since Guerrand was taking the longest time in history to advance from squire to knight.
    “If you’re as wise as I think,” said Rietta slickly, nearly choking on the words, “you’ll insist that the marriage take place in