The Family Shame
(The Zero Enigma IV)
Christopher G. Nuttall
* * *
Book One: The Zero Blessing
Book Two: The Zero Curse
Book Three: The Zero Equation
Book Four: The Family Shame
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Cover by Brad Fraunfelter
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All Comments and Reviews Welcome!
Cover Blurb
Isabella Rubén is a traitor - at twelve years old.
Disgraced, abandoned by her friends and shunned by her family, Isabella is sent into exile with scant hope of returning to her former home. Her destination, Kirkhaven Hall; a stone mansion miles from civilisation, inhabited only by a pair of older exiles. Existence as she knew it is over.
But as she tries to settle into Kirkhaven Hall, and a life far from the one she enjoyed before her fall from grace, she discovers that the hall has secrets. Intruders on the grounds, ghostly shadows moving at night …
… and a plot that may destroy everything she once held dear.
Dedication
To my sons, Eric and John.
Dear Reader,
This story may require some explanation.
I was midway through writing The Zero Curse when it crossed my mind that I could write a handful of stand-alone stories set in the Zero universe. A number of ideas occurred to me, some of which I plotted out at once, but I had to put them aside while I finished the first trilogy. I was, in fact, writing The Zero Equation when it occurred to me that I could hang an entire story on Isabella Rubén, allowing me to show that she was a more complex character than she might have appeared and, perhaps more importantly, allowing me to explore different aspects of the universe. The story in front of you is the result.
If this is your first foray into the Zero universe, all you need to know is that twelve-year-old Isabella Rubén - manipulated by Stregheria Aguirre - betrayed her family to outside forces and, after the crisis was concluded, was summarily sentenced to exile. The story opens with her in a carriage, driving away from the only home she’s known …
… And making her way into an uncertain future.
As always, I welcome comments, feedback, and reviews.
Christopher Nuttall
Edinburgh, 2018
Prologue I
If I had known that it would be the last time Akin and I would talk to each other, at least as semi-equals, I like to think I would have handled it better. But I didn’t.
My brother and I had never really been close, although - as fraternal twins - we had been expected to look out for each other from a very early age. Perhaps we would have been closer, perhaps, if things had been different. But Akin had the sheer luck to be born male, into a house that steadfastly refused to allow a female to rise to the very highest rank. He, son of the Patriarch, was groomed to become Patriarch himself someday; me, daughter of the Patriarch, was denied a chance at power in my own right. And House Rubén - our house - was the sole Great House that kept the old traditions. All the other Great Houses had left them behind long ago.
It was unfair! Akin had no interest in power; indeed, he had no interest in anything beyond forging. He didn’t want to create a patronage network, let alone inherit the network of family and clients that our ancestors had built up over the years. I, on the other hand, did want it. I wanted to wield power, I wanted to be in control, I wanted to have everyone hanging on my every word … I wanted to make my family proud of me. And I couldn’t hope to reach the highest levels, no matter how much magic I mastered or how many clients I brought into the family network. My fate had been set by an accident of birth.
I’d made a fool of myself, those first few months at Jude’s. And yet … I couldn’t see how I could have done anything else.
I believed in the family. I wanted to run the family. And so I’d set out to do everything an up-and-coming family member should do. I’d made friends and allies with the scions of powerful families, I’d identified a number of promising clients for later cultivation … and, as I had to share a dorm with Caitlyn Aguirre, I’d done everything in my power to prove she truly had no magic. And I had been right. She did have no magic. But she had a different gift, one that made her more important than me. My patronage networks evaporated like morning mist, while she started to build a network of her own. Of course she was trying to build a network of her own! It was what was expected of her.
And Akin was her friend.
It tore at me, more than I cared to admit. I’d have understood if Caitlyn - Cat - was almost anyone else, but her? My rival? The one who’d made a fool of me? How could they be friends? Our families were bitter enemies. We’d been feuding for hundreds of years. There could be only one dominant house, after all, and it was going to be us. And there Akin was, befriending the daughter of a rival house … and staying with her, even after the kidnapping. It could not be tolerated. Father had told him to stay away from her. Why didn’t he listen to Father?
My brother and I didn’t look that much alike, for all that we were twins. We both had the blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to be dominant in House Rubén, but I was tall and willowy while Akin was shorter and more muscular. He’d been forging practically since he could walk, immersing himself in the art while I’d followed a more general field of study. He had me beat when it came to forging - I admit that, willingly - but I had the edge in charms, defence and potions. I’d paid special attention to potions. Father was a Potions Master.
The House War was in its infancy when I finally managed to get Akin alone. It wasn’t easy. There were places he could go that I couldn’t follow, places where I wouldn’t go … and places where too many eyes were watching. Jude’s was supposed to be neutral, but everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before angry muttering and the occasional hex turned into something nastier. Akin might not be interested in politics, but politics were interested in him. He could hardly turn around without running into someone who wanted to befriend him … for political reasons, of course. I’d had the same problem until recently. But I hadn’t considered it to be a problem.
Akin watched me patiently as I erected a set of privacy wards around the study room. I wanted him to help, even though I didn’t really trust him to do it properly. Technically, no one was supposed to use scrying magic within the school, but I suspected that rule was about to be broken too. I’d heard whispers about upperclassmen stockpiling weapons and spells that were borderline dark …
… Although, if there was one thing I’d learnt in my twelve years, it was that rumours simply couldn’t be trusted.
“You were told not to spend any more time with her,” I said, curtly. “Why are you still even giving her the time of day?”
Akin’s eyes narrowed. “This … this … is about Cat?”
“Caitlyn Aguirre, Daughter of Lord and Lady Aguirre,” I said, fighting down a flicker of anger. “And they are our family’s enemies.”
“Cat isn’t a bad person,” Akin said. “She saved my life.”
“After endangering it in the first place,” I said. I’d listened very carefully to Akin’s story, after they’d made their escape from the Eternal City. Father hadn’t tried to stop me from eavesdropping on the conversation. “She should never have let herself be lured into that trap!”
Akin glared at me. “And you have never done anything stupid in your life?”
I glared back at him, feeling a surge of sudden jealousy. My brother didn’t want power - and it had been dropped in his lap. Cat didn’t have power - and she was suddenly the most important person
in the world. They’d both lucked into importance, while I - no matter how hard I worked - could never catch up. Father would cheerfully hand his empire over to Akin without a second thought. But not to his daughter.
“There is a House War on,” I said. I was pressing close to the line - there were things I could never tell anyone, even my twin - but it had to be said. “Our family and hers are at war. And what happens if we lose?”
My eyes narrowed. “Or are you expecting her to intercede for us if we lose?”
Akin half-rose. “Isabella …”
“Why?” It was incomprehensible to me. “Why are you and her even friends?”
Akin settled back in his chair. “Because she’s a decent person? Because we share interests? Because I happen to like her? Because our families are feuding over something that happened hundreds of years ago …”
“Our families are rivals because only one of us can rule the city,” I told him, sharply. “And even if she is a nice person, her family is not.”
“That doesn’t mean we should hate them,” Akin said, quietly. “Why can’t you give her a chance?”
I glared. “Like the chance that was never given to me?”
“And if you had been born without magic,” Akin asked, “what would have happened to you?”
That was a good point. I decided to ignore it.
“The Patriarch has ordered you to stop talking to her,” I said, instead. “This is the end!”
Akin’s face darkened. For a moment, I thought he was going to hex me. Instead, he stood and stormed out of the study, slamming the door behind him. I glared at the closed door, cursing my brother under his breath. I wished I could have told him everything, but I’d given my word. Some secrets had to be kept until the time was right. In hindsight, I should have told him …
I was right. It was the end of a great many things.
Prologue II
It was a truth often acknowledged, Lord Carioca Rubén thought grimly, that House Rubén was the oldest Great House in Shallot. House Rubén could trace its lineage all the way back to the Senatorial Families of the Eternal City, a claim that none of the other Great Houses could make. Indeed, House Rubén was also the only Great House to cling to the customs and traditions of a long-vanished world that had, as far as the rest of the city was concerned, outlived their usefulness long ago. He’d seen it, once, as proof that they were different, as proof that they were born to eventually take supreme power.
Now, the traditions were a noose around his neck.
He stood in the centre of the Chamber of Judgement, his hands clasped behind his back as the arbiters took their places. Their faces were concealed behind black cloaks and powerful wards, their identities hidden even from the Patriarch himself. They would be men, of course, considering their House, but beyond that …? Carioca understood the logic behind the tradition - he would have tried to bribe or threaten the arbiters, if he knew who they were - and at one point he would have supported it. Now … he would gladly throw tradition out the window if it would save his daughter’s life. He’d been very lucky that Isabella simply hadn’t been executed on the spot.
“We have discussed the matter of Isabella Rubén at great length,” the lead arbiter said. His voice was muffled by the wards. No one, not even the other arbiters, would know who he was. A friend, an enemy … or merely someone who’d lost confidence in Carioca’s leadership? “It is beyond doubt that she committed treason, against both the family and the kingdom itself. And that she acted without direction from a senior member of our family.”
Carioca felt his heart clench. Isabella wouldn’t have been expected to defy a senior member of the family, if he’d ordered her to follow his instructions. She was twelve. She wasn’t expected to make decisions for herself. If she had even a flimsy excuse to blame her actions on someone older, wiser and more powerful than herself …
“Worse, she chose to ally herself with Stregheria Aguirre,” the arbiter continued. “It is impossible to believe that she thought she was acting in the best interests of the family, or even that she was trying to secure the family’s future in the event of Crown Prince Henry’s coup suceeding. Isabella would have claimed power over the remainder of the Great Houses, assuming Stregheria Aguirre actually honoured her side of the agreement, but there would be little left to rule. House Rubén would be left broken in the wake of the coup.”
And the House War, Carioca thought. Stregheria Aguirre had laid her plans well. She’d played Isabella like a puppet. And, because she was an Aguirre, there was no way Isabella could be forgiven for allying with her. House Aguirre had been the enemy. She thought she had no choice.
He winced, inwardly. Any father whose child turned against the family was a failure as a parent. That much was undeniable. How much of what had happened was his fault? Perhaps, if he’d been a stricter or a more attentive parent, Isabella would never have looked elsewhere for validation. Perhaps, if he’d fought for her right to succeed him as Patriarch, she wouldn’t have felt she needed to step outside the family line for power. Isabella was his daughter. How could she not be ambitious? But even he could not overturn centuries of tradition. He hadn’t even realised he needed to try until it was too late.
“If Isabella was a grown woman, she would have been executed by now,” the arbiter stated, flatly, confirming Carioca’s previous beliefs. “Treason is a serious offense. The king has already executed a number of Crown Prince Henry’s supporters, even members of the highest nobility. As it is, considering her age, we have decided to be merciful.”
Carioca wasn’t relieved. Mercy was a word with many meanings. Isabella was too young to be executed, perhaps, but there was no way she could be saved from punishment. He’d been lucky to escape being summarily stripped of his title himself. If he hadn’t been a war hero, if Caitlyn Aguirre hadn’t made her proposal to end the House War - and the endless feud - he might have lost everything. As it was, there was no guarantee that his son would be able to succeed him. The family council might choose to elect someone else in his place.
And the king will be demanding some punishment, he thought, grimly. Too many noblemen - and army officers - had backed Crown Prince Henry’s bid for the throne. It had been sheer luck that the original plan had had to be replaced at short notice. He cannot let a known traitor get away with it.
“Isabella will be sent into exile,” the arbiter informed him. “We have decided that Kirkhaven Hall will make a suitable home for her until we see fit to recall her from exile.”
“I protest,” Carioca said, immediately. “Kirkhaven Hall is no place for a young girl.”
“She will not be alone,” the arbiter said.
“But there will be no one of her age there,” Carioca said. He was all too aware that he was coming close to pleading. “She will …”
“She is being punished,” the arbiter said. “A few years in exile will teach her a lesson and satisfy the king. Should she comport herself in a manner that suggests she has learnt something from the experience, she will eventually be allowed to return to the city.”
But what she did will never be forgotten, Carioca thought, glumly. Too many people knew the truth for it to be forgotten, even if he bribed or threatened people into silence. House Rubén had enemies. They’d drag the matter up every time they needed to weaken the family’s reputation still further. Isabella will never live it down.
He stared into the arbiter’s hooded face and knew there was no point in arguing. The family demanded its pound of flesh. Isabella had betrayed them, a crime that could never be forgiven. Scheming to become Patriarch was one thing, but actually planning to ruin the entire family was quite another. There were few worse crimes. Carioca’s enemies might take pleasure in putting a knife in his back, while he was weak, but even his allies would agree that Isabella needed to be punished. Sending her into exile, cutting her off from the friends and family she’d need to make a name for herself, was harsh. Her future prospects would be utterly ruined.
As if they weren’t anyway, Carioca thought. Who would want her to marry into their family now?
“Isabella will leave tomorrow morning,” the arbiter said, firmly. “You will not be permitted to talk to her before her departure, nor will you or your inner family write to her without the family council’s approval. Should you attempt to contact her secretly, her exile may be extended and your own position will be subject to examination.”
Carioca gritted his teeth, wondering - again - who was under the hood. One of his enemies, definitely. The list was a depressingly long one. He’d stood on too many toes during his rise to power. And now that he was weak, someone had decided to have a go at him. If he didn’t try to contact Isabella, his fitness as a father - and Patriarch - would be called into question. But if he did try to contact his daughter, his enemies would have all the excuse they needed to strip him of his position. He could not win.
“I understand,” he said.
Isabella would not have an easy time of it. Kirkhaven Hall was in the highlands, right on the border with Galashiels. There were only a couple of people living there, both of whom had been sent into exile themselves years ago. Isabella would have books, of course, and plenty of room to practice her magic, but her education would suffer. And she would be unable to build the circle of patronage that any young person needed to make something of themselves in adult life. She would be alone, in a very real sense, for the rest of her life.
But at least she will be alive, he told himself. And, one day, she will return to us.
But he knew that day would be a very long time in coming.
Chapter One
It was cold. Bitterly cold.
I muttered a heating incantation under my breath, although I knew it was useless. The bracelet the armsman had forced upon me, before we left the hall five days ago, kept me from performing even the simplest of spells. I could no more warm myself than I could look out of the shuttered windows, let alone cast a spell that might get me out of the carriage. The clothes I wore were too thin, the charms woven into the fabric nowhere near powerful enough to turn back the cold. I was going to freeze.
The Family Shame Page 1
