Chapter Three

**Lady Cullen**

Thankfully Hans woke up, Jason didn’t think he would have been able to carry the bulky man-at-arms to the door let alone to wherever the Cullen's townhouse was. With Trent’s instruction, Jason tossed a bucket of cold water on the soldier’s head. Trent had to pull the enraged soldier off Jason to stop him from being beaten to death but Hans woke regardless.

“Oh, Trent… um I mean captain, nice to see you,” Hans said sheepishly when he recognized the man pulling him off Jason.

“I would like to say the same Hans,” Trent said icily, he was back in his normal mood now that the fun was over. “Are you going to carry the lord home for us? I think you two have had enough fun for a while.”

“Yes… yes sir, please forgive me,” Hans said quickly then moved with wobbles in his steps to pick Cullen from the ground. Hans wheezed audibly as he lifted his drunken master from the ground and stumbled for a few steps up then was steady.

“It's good to see you can still do your duties,” Trent smirked then moved to the door.

“Hey,” the man Cullen had been playing dice with cried, “that bastard still owes me four silvers.”

“Not my problem,” Trent said back without pausing in his step. The man looked at Jason angrily but all the trader could do was shrug his shoulders and follow after Trent and Hans. He continued to yell at them but Jason guessed he wasn't brave enough to challenge four armed men even though half of them were blackout drunk.

“It… good… to see… you captain,” Hans repeated through strained gasps, "you look well." Hans was a giant, somewhere between six and seven feet tall, but Cullen dwarfed even him in height and weight.

“Don’t worry Hans I’m not going to rat you out to the lady,” Trent said seeing through the man’s poor attempts at being overly nice.

“Thank the bloody gods,” Hans wheezed. "Last time we came back like this she put me on night guard duty for a week."

“Where are your horses?” Trent asked. The sheriff paused on the street and looked around ignoring everything that had come out of Han's mouth.

“We… the lord lost them in a bet,” Hans explained.

Trent closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He sighed and calmly asked, “how long have you been here?”

Han titled his head, “Laxtar sir?”

“No you bloody idiot,” Trent yelled, “in this flea hole?” Trent waved his hand at the tavern beside them. As if on cue a window from an apartment above opened and a scantily dressed woman looked out as she stretched her arms. “I’m sorry this disease festering brothel,” Trent added.

Hans squinted his eyes as if in deep thought, “um sorry sir but what day is it?”

“Gods you’re useless,” Trent sighed.

Hans lowered his eyes and mumbled incoherently. To Jason, it sounded as if he were trying to console himself. “I was only following orders,” Hans grumbled.

“Orders to party,” Trent snorted. “Well, your new orders are to start walking home son.”

*****

Jason didn’t believe Hans would make it to the townhouse. Trent didn’t offer the drunken soldier any assistance and all Jason could do was stand back and watch. In the docks they weren’t an interesting sight, there were plenty of rolling drunks, lewd prostitutes, and howling senile to catch any onlooker’s eyes. But once they were back behind the walls people began to stare at them. Lord Cullen had to have been somewhat famous in the city because Jason heard the name mumbled accompanied by shaking of heads by more than a few bystanders.

Unlike Exton, Laxtar was a wild labyrinth of small streets and avenues of every shape in size. This was mostly due to the fact the city was built on and around a tall hill. At the peak of the hill and viewable from almost anywhere in the city was the castle. The rest of the city within the walls was split into three sections. The market, the largest area which encompassed all the land around the walls. The market was where all the merchants worked and live as well as a few of the wealthier artisans. Deeper within the city was Low Street. Like a wall, Low Street encircled the base of the hill and contained most of the inns and homes of the wealthiest merchants and artisans as well as the city homes of the less wealthy noble families. Finally, like a snake, High Street wove up the hill as one long road connecting Low Street to the castle itself. Built into the side of the hill were the most magnificent palaces and mansions. Each home on High Street took up at the minimum the same amount of space as a normal block in the market. Everywhere there were manicured gardens and fountain, carriages driven by uniformed servants raced down the even cobblestone street, and a city guard was always in sight.

“Gah let go of me you sod,” Cullen groaned. Jason turned and saw Hans gratefully release his master. “Wah, how did we get here?” Cullen cried looking around and then settled his eyes on the gates of a stone house in front of them.

The gates opened and a female voice cried, “uncle, we’ve been worried about you, come inside.” A woman, in her late teens, stepped out into the streets from the gate.

“Lady Cullen,” Hans said with a bow but then tumbled to the ground and passed out.

“Damn it, Hans,” Lord Cullen grumbled. His voice and body swished as if he was a ship in a storm. “If you weren’t the best swordsman in the kingdom I’d skin you alive,” he yelled then fell to the ground besides Hans.

“My lady,” Trent said with a bow and a grin.

Lady Cullen closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. She sighed then turned to Trent and Jason. “Hello, sheriff. Thank you for dragging these two back home.” A pair of guards came out of the gate and carried Hans and Lord Cullen into the compound. “Great I see they lost their horses too,” she mumbled to herself, “paid twenty perfectly good golds on the set on;y to lose them the next day. Oh I’m sorry, we haven’t met,” she said when she noticed Jason.

Jason awkwardly bowed himself and Trent introduced him, “this is the Trader Jason, my Lady. He is a new addition to Finchead. Jason, this is the Lady Annabel Cullen, the Earl’s niece.”

“His only niece,” the girl added, “and only child of the last earl.”

“Yes, gods protect his soul,” Trent said sincerely with a nod.

“Nice to meet you, Jason,” Annabel said, she reached out her hand. Jason stared at her slender fingers for a moment confused. He was about to reach out and shake the hand but Trent nudged him and Jason fumbled forward and gave the hand a gentle kiss. Her skin pillowed his lips warmly.

Jason stood back and said, “it is nice to meet you too… ah my lady.” The last part was odd coming from his lips but once out they felt perfectly natural like there was nothing else to call Annabel except lady.

“Well,” Annabel said breaking the silence that had built after the kiss, “let me invite you inside, you’d only be here if you had something to tell me.” She smiled then turned to walk into the compound. Trent clapped Jason’s forearm signaling for them to follow.

Inside the walls, Jason was slightly underwhelmed by the house. Although still large and grand like all the other palaces on High Street, it was built like a miniature fort. Jason had been expecting a mansion or some other opulent design. Through the gates, they entered a courtyard. A large stable and guardhouse sat in either corner closest to the road and the remainder of the enclosing was taken up by a rectangular keep, three stories high. The main building even had ramparts along the top although they were unmanned. The yard was bustling with servants moving from building to building. Kitchenhands were unloading foodstuffs from the back of a merchant’s wagon, an elderly groundskeeper was manicuring a row on the front side of the keep, maids were hanging ivory white bedsheets on a clothesline.

When they got to the front door of the keep, a single thick slab of wood bound with iron, a guard hauled the door open for them allowing them into a long hall. The room's high ceiling and stone architecture reminded Jason of a cathedral but instead of church pews, elaborate furniture lined the hall, and instead of naves half a dozen doors lined each wall.

Annabel entered the first door on the right and Jason and Trent followed in after her. The room they entered was small but well furnished with couches and tables, it seemed like a place for talking. A maid shuffled into the room and waited near the door to be called on. Annabel sat down on one of the couches and relaxed. Jason moved to sit in a chair across from her but Trent stopped him. "No, let him sit Trent, no need for etiquette between associates," Annabel said coquettishly. She gave Jason a smile and he returned the gesture as he sat down. How can someone so young be so intimidating, he thought but guessed in his old life some people wondered the same thing about him even though he only ever did what he thought was natural. "So Jason," Annabel said looking at him, "tell me what the matter is."

Jason had been expecting Trent to take the reigns but Jason steeled himself and took advantage of the opportunity. Where should I start, Jason wondered. He decided to start from the Fiery Calling up until Byron's rescue. Annabel sat attentively throughout the story. When Jason was done she nodded then lifted her right hand. Her wrist flicked out like a flag in the wind and the maid came rushing over. "Would either of you like anything besides wine?" She asked.

Trent shrugged and Jason said, "that sounds perfect."

"Good," Annabel smiled. "Bring us a bottle of the new Ravara Blend," she ordered the maid. The woman nodded then rushed out of the room without a word. Annabel shifted in her spot then said, "I've been aware of the Fallows situation for some time now but I'm surprised it's escalated this far, so fast. Jason, you seem to be a very productive man. I'm glad to have you as a subject."

Jason squinted at the last statement. "Um thank you, my lady."

"You take me the wrong way," she laughed, reached out and laid a hand on Jason's leg. He moved slightly but steady himself. "I can see great things happening for you if you continue to be useful," she said innocently.

"A lot of homes in Finchead burned in the fire," Jason explained although he had already made the point in his story. "I hope to own land in town soon so that I can work on other ventures, such as a brewery. There is only so much wool to be sold," he added.

"You make a good point Jason," Annabel said, "Finchead is going to need a lot of improvements and soon. After we have finished this business with... was Malcolm his name? I am going to make rebuilding Finchead one of my top priorities. While our family's mines to the north bring in most of our revenue, Finchead is our largest settlement and has been an important thoroughfare historically."

"It will be hard work," Jason said hoping to draw objective promises out of the women.

"Yes which is why I plan on returning to Finchead with you," Annabel replied.

Trent bulked, "my lady... are your sure. Fallows may still attempt a counterattack."

"Which is while I'll bring a retinue with me," Annabel explained, "I don't care how many country bumpkins they bring, a few trained soldiers can displace them. I told my father while he was the earl and my uncle after him repeatedly that investment in Finchead should be one of their priorities. My uncle, while a good general and warrior, is not a man for peacetime. Thankfully he's had the sense, or lack thereof, to allow me to act on his behalf in most things. As long as I leave the steward with enough gold to feed his gambling addiction and my aunt's eating addiction all will be well. Ah, the wine," she sighed happily. The maid entered the room carrying a large black bottle and followed by a male servant holding a plate carrying three glasses. The maid set the bottle down and the servent pulled a corkscrew from his pocket, opened the bottle, and poured each of them a glass. "Do you like wine Trent?" Annabel asked as she took a sip.

"It is fine my lady," he said. Jason saw the sheriff sniff the red liquid in his cup and then take a hesitant sip. Jason on the other hand drank his glass greedily.

"I've always dreamed of having a vineyard," Annabel said happily as she looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe I'll build one in Finchead."

"I can help you sell it," Jason offered.

Annabel looked at him and a devilish grin painted her face and for the first time she looked her own age, "I think we are going to get along well Jason."