Free The Song of the Winns by Frances Watts Page B

Alex muttered. He looked almost frightened.
    â€œSir,” said Alice, raising her hand to draw the teacher’s attention away from her brother, “what will we be doing in Cornoliana?”
    â€œIf you listened to Tobias’s speech last night, you’ll remember him talking about unusual troop movements in Souris.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly and his two pupils nodded.
    â€œFIG is now focusing all its energies in two directions,” he continued. “One, finding out what exactly the Sourians are up to, and two, preparing to organize Gerandans to rise against them.”
    â€œAnd you think that while we’re in the palace we might hear something about the Sourians’ plans,” said Alice.
    â€œCorrect.” The rusty-orange and white mouse nodded once, curtly. “And to be able to interpret the significance of what you hear, you need to understand something of Sourian politics. Let’s start with General Ashwover, who is the top-ranking Sourian officer in Gerander. He effectively rules Gerander on Queen Eugenia’s behalf, from the Sourian headquarters in the palace in Cornoliana. Queen Eugenia is directly descended from the House of Cornolius, remember, so she claims the right to the palace. Of course, she isn’t the only heir to the throne of Cornolius. Can either of you tell me another one—someone who is directly descended from the triplet who inherited Gerander?”
    Although they were still new to FIG, both young mice knew the answer to this question.
    â€œZanzibar!” they shouted in unison.
    Solomon Honker smiled briefly. “Correct!” Then . . . bang! The ruler smacked down on Alice’s desk. “But you will raise your hands before speaking and you will address me as ‘sir.’”

    By six o’clock, when Solomon Honker finally called a halt to the lesson, Alice thought her head would explode with all the information crammed in it. After a break for lunch, they’d spent the whole afternoon studying the history of the Sourian occupation of Gerander from the Sourian point of view, since that was what Raz and Rita would have learned.
    â€œIf I’d known that an undercover assignment would be worse than school I never would have volunteered,” Alex groaned as they made their way to the cafeteria for dinner.
    They found Beezer and Ebenezer already there. Ebenezer was his old cheerful self, Alice was pleased to see.
    â€œI’ve been shadowing Serena this afternoon, learning the ordering system and so on,” her uncle explained. “She’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow. She’s given me some of the recipes from her restaurant. I’m really looking forward to trying them out.”
    They had just carried their plates, piled high with cheesy crepes, to one of the long tables when an all-too-familiar figure came toward them.
    â€œOh no,” groaned Alex under his breath.
    â€œWhy it’s my two favorite pupils,” Solomon Honker said.
    â€œHello, sir,” they chorused politely.
    Their teacher had exchanged his somber blue bow tie for a cheery candy-striped one. And that wasn’t all that had changed. “What’s all this ‘sir’ business?” he asked jovially. “We’re not in the classroom now—call me Solomon Honker.”
    â€œYes, Solomon Honker,” Alex and Alice said obediently.
    â€œHave you tried the Stetson Camembert yet?” he asked over his shoulder as he moved off toward the buffet. “It’s delicious.”
    â€œIs that your teacher?” Beezer asked. “He seems nice.”
    â€œNice?” Alex snorted. “What he was like just then—all cheerful and friendly—is the complete opposite of what he’s like in the classroom. He kept yelling and banging our desks with a ruler.” Alex slammed his fork onto the table, making them all jump. “He’s like that mouse in the book that