There were well over two hundred just associated with the house and grounds. She was ready to pull out every hair on her head in frustration. “How many, exactly?” she asked Verte, aghast.
“216” came the prompt reply. A headache immediately started just behind her eyes. How would she ever come up with names for all of them? Not to mention organizing —
But no — she was making work for herself that she didn’t need to.
Wait, they are already organized. Sebastian said he just conjured up one when things needed doing. And since the household is running smoothly with minor problems like making too much food, then they must have organized themselves.
That meant that there might only be a fraction that were more than Sebastian thought them to be. “How many of them are as clever as you and Sapphire and Thyme, Verte?” she asked.
“43. Most very stupid.”
The headache started to fade, as she heard that number. That was more manageable. “So, most of you are just what Sebastian thought — very simple creatures that just do a single job. Like, oh, the animated broom in the tale of ‘The Sorcerer’s Lazy Apprentice.’”
Verte was smart enough to realize that was a question framed as a statement. “Yes.” Or rather “Y,” for Verte had also mastered abbreviations. Their own communication was getting easier with every passing hour.
“So the smart ones supervise the stupid ones?” she asked. That made sense; presumably they could see each other, and communicate, too.
“Yes.”
The headache faded to almost nothing. This was looking more promising. “I would imagine that all of the kitchen staff are smart ones,” she said, thinking out loud, but was pleased with Verte’s confirmation of that. “And most of the household staff. All of Sebastian’s, of course. What about Eric’s staff?”
“All stupid but one. Smart one hides.”
Aha. “You mean, ‘hides,’ as in keeps Eric from knowing it is smart?” she asked, thinking that if she were a smart invisible, that was what she would do. If he knew that they were intelligent, he’d begin ordering them to do a lot more.
“Yes.”
“So you need one smart one to keep Eric from interfering or complaining to Sebastian.” She nodded. “How many of you can write?”
“Five. Sapphire, Thyme, Verte, two more.”
Probably just as well. That was already a higher rate of literacy than among the Beauchampses’ household, of whom only Housekeeper and Cook were able to read and write with any fluency. Another reason why Mathew wasn’t going to become Butler anytime soon.
“Which one of you is the Steward?” she asked, which was the next logical question. In a household the size of her own, generally the Housekeeper was in charge, unless there was a Butler. But in the enormous households of the nobility it was a loftier fellow, the Steward.
“?”
“Who is in charge of all of you?” she said, rephrasing her question.
“Eric.”
“And in charge of taking money and bringing things back?”
“Eric.”
And Eric was the only physical contact between Sebastian and the outside world. And now she began to think through the question she had raised with herself this morning: Who is managing all of this? There had to be someone who was making sure the estate was properly cared for — and at need the King’s own Chancellor of the Exchequer would see to it, if for no other reason than to make sure the Kingdom got the taxes. You didn’t get taxes out of a poorly managed estate.
Under normal cases, where there had been a Steward, the Steward would have dealt with the mines and the income from them, unless there was a separate factotum in the city that handled the commerce and merely kept the Ducal coffers filled, small as they were.