“I don’t follow,” said Brrr. “Which army, which direction?”

“West to east, so it must be the EC Messiars,” said Sister Apothecaire. As she was professed to neutrality, her tone was curt, but her sympathies lay with her own countrymen, so her eyes snapped like coal fire. “But there’s also a blaze happening to the south. Perhaps a band of the Messiars is burning the forest so as to destroy the blinds that can conceal snipers and guerrillas. They’ll force a Munchkinlander retreat to the south. In any case, the Messiars are meeting no resistance so far and will be here by sunset.”

“I am on their side,” said the Lion, to no one in particular-to himself, then.

“Bully for you. You can make the tea and crumpets for eight hundred.” Fear was turning her waspish. She continued in a rush. “The administrative troika of the mauntery has called an emergency Council-I mean, Sister Doctor of course, and her two assistants-of which I am not one, not in the business of governance. They will propose how we shall meet the ruthless invaders.”

“Hardly invaders,” Brrr corrected her. “This mauntery is not in Munchkinland.”

“In my book, an army intent on invading is an invading army no matter which side of the border you view it from. Sister Doctor may view things differently; that’s her prerogative. I’m simply staff.” Her head turned to the hall, and she called out, “Aren’t you attending? Please. You can come in here, if you will.”

“We have company?” said Yackle.

“We have no time for company,” said Brrr.

“You have no say in the matter,” said Sister Apothecaire. “Do you forget you’re a guest here? A Council is called, and Sisters Hospitality and Cook are required to attend. So I have arranged a cold luncheon for all strangers who have sought sanctuary here. You can eat together. We will dismiss you when and if the Council decides that would be a prudent course of action.”

“I can’t work under these conditions,” said Brrr.

“Courage,” said Yackle. “Who knows what you can or cannot do?”

Sister Apothecaire made no move to help the novices, who came in with flasks of water, slit husks of pearlfruit, ham sandwiches, and a bowl of blue olives. The young women set the repast down on a sideboard and fled.

Into the room traipsed a dwarf, a woman in a plain veil, and a few muscle boys sporting tangerine tunics and leggings as well as shaved heads, which looked tangerine-ish by association.

“I’ll let you make your own introductions,” said Sister Apothecaire. She elevated her chin till her nose was nearly as high as her forehead. The gesture proved she could be taller than a dwarf-which was lost on no one.

“We don’t trust louts loose among the novices,” she continued briskly, “and as I mentioned, we have an emergency Council to convene. So forgive me the indignity of this key-it is a necessity in these wartimes, and signifies no disrespect.” She departed, closing the door with a decisive slam. They all listened to hear the key turn in the lock.