The Secret of London Tower

Chapter Seven: Ire Frestu's Invitation

Chapter Seven: Ire Frestu’s Invitation

That evening we went and had dinner at the inn. We stayed downstairs a little, but then Master Mozz bid us goodnight and told us to go up to sleep because the men in the bar were getting slightly rowdy and the number of beer mugs were accumulating rapidly.

Grudgingly Siegfried and I mounted the stairs. “Watch out for the Jackblacks,” he mocked.

“Can’t anything kill them?”

“Someone who’s really strong and courageous and handsome, and their name starts with the letter ‘s’,” Siegfried said.

I walked into my room. A fire was in the grate. Here it was summer, but the last days were trickling by and it was becoming cold. In one of the trunks, I found a nightgown (I would have preferred pajamas, but even men wore nightgowns here), and climbed into the bed. It was cold like beds are when you first get into them. In fact, the whole room was cold. Only near the fire was it warm.

I fell asleep slowly. The stupid Jackblacks were a lot scarier when the room was dark and the fire threw shadows across the dark walls.

The next morning we had breakfast early at the nearly empty lower level. Most people were probably trying to get over the ale and beer they’d consumed. When we’d finished, the eccentric Eskid Mozz said that he was out to find a house. Then in the afternoon we’d take a visit to Master Ie.

Master Mozz set out, and Siegfried and I decided to tour the town together. It was Saturday, the busiest day of the week, and everywhere there were people. People buying, selling, quibbling over pricing, screaming, begging, running. The smell and noises were overwhelming, but Siegfried looked fine. He’d grown up with it.

“Let’s go to the baker’s,” he said, and I took his hand as we barged our way through tons of people. As small as Freckle was, it was crowded on Saturday.

The baker’s house was neat and trim and smelled wonderful. Flour covered the counter, and the sweets were even better than at home. Siegfried took out his a small sack of copper coins.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked.

“Eskid Mozz gave it to me,” he replied. “Said to spend it wisely. I’m supposed to share it.”

He picked a cherry tart and I picked an apple roll. The baker’s assistant looked at us across the counter. He said,

“Never seen you kids here before.”

“We’ve just moved in,” Siegfried said. “That’s Mimi, and I’m See.”

“As in Milan Irons?” asked the assistant, astonished.

“No, no, I’m his sister!” I said.

The baker brought up our goods, and Siegfried paid him a copper coin. “You don’t look much like each other, but you never know now ’a days. And don’t be silly, Donald—Milan Irons is up in the castle of the Lion.” He handed us our goods and shooed us out.

When we were done and the crowd had thinned enough to talk, I asked Siegfried, “Is your new name See?”

“Mhmm. They wanted me to choose something that was slightly connected to my old name, so it would be easier to remember. And remember, our last name is Mozz, after Master Mozz, alright?”

“And I get to keep my name?”

“That’s right,” he said.

“Why did they tell you all this?” I asked, frustrated. “Better have told us both, so I didn’t accidentally slip up.”