“Well, I…” Dobro began modestly.
“Not nearly as civilized as he thinks,” Aidan offered, “though he has become something of a theatergoer.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” said Bayard, “what are you doing in a gully?”
Dobro said, “Me and Aidan just run up with a sure-enough modern day Veezo, Bayard. Feller says he dug this whole gully with a plow.”
Bayard nodded. “I have seen such things before. But what are you doing in this part of the island? I knew the two of you had come out of the Feechiefen. But I thought you were in Sinking Canyons.”
“Don’t that beat all you ever heard?” asked Dobro. “A feechie living in a big hole in the ground!”
“‘Fallen are the Vezeyfolks,’” Bayard quoted. “‘In a gully, down a hole. No more fistfights, no more jokes.’” Dobro joined in on the chorus: “‘In a gully, down a hole.’”
“Every night I go to sleep with my mama’s voice in my head,” said Dobro. “‘Fallen are the feechiefolks, in a gully, down a hole.’ I wake up in the morning, and there I am, down a hole. Ain’t no place for feechiefolks, I can tell you.”
“But, Bayard,” Aidan said, “you said Vezeyfolks. ‘Fallen are the Vezeyfolks.’”
“Did I?” Bayard shrugged. “Dobro was talking about Veezo a minute ago. I must have confused ‘Veezo’ and ‘feechiefolks’ into ‘Vezeyfolks.’”
Aidan eyed Bayard. It wasn’t like him to mix up the old lore, whether it was feechie lore or civilizer lore. Was the old prophet starting to lose his wits in his old age?
“I understand you have an army now,” Bayard said.
“Yes,” Aidan answered.
“You’re going to need it. The Pyrthens are coming, you know.”
“Is that a prophecy?” Aidan asked. “Or just an observation?”
Bayard smiled. “You don’t have to be a prophet to predict that the Pyrthens are coming when a kingdom grows weak. Are you ready to fight?”
“We’ll have to be ready, won’t we? You make do with what you have.” Aidan began to think of everything he and his officers needed to do before the militiamen could really be called a serious fighting force.
“Old Errol’s been working them villagers pretty good,” Dobro offered. “Marchin’, shootin’ arrows at just- pretend soldiers, diggin’ tunnels. And when they ain’t doin’ that, Jasper’s got them diggin’ up timbers and cold-shiny pots and rubbish like that.”
Bayard laughed, though he had no idea what Dobro was talking about. “Aidan,” he asked, “what’s Dobro saying about digging up timbers and pots?”
Aidan was deep in thought about the inevitable battles against the Pyrthens. “Timbers and pots?” he repeated absently. “Oh, that. A flood in the canyons uncovered a piece of a shingled roof. We got to digging around, and we found what appears to be part of two or three cabins, an old plow, some pots and pans.”
“Cabins?” Bayard asked. “Why would there be cabins in the Clay Wastes?”
“We was hoping you might be able to tell us, Bayard,” Dobro said. “Arliss found a coin the other day had a picture of Harvo Hornhead on it.”
“Dobro says it looks like Harvo Hornhead,” Aidan said. “I think it looks like Halverd the Antlered, first king of Halverdy. It wasn’t a Corenwalder coin, though, or Halverden either. Had the word Veziland engraved on it.”
Aidan noticed that Bayard was gazing into the gully. He had a faraway look in his eyes. Aidan had seen that look before-on that day, six years earlier, when Bayard came to Longleaf, searching for the Wilderking. The day he foretold that Aidan would be the Wilderking. The old prophet seemed to be in another world. Aidan couldn’t tell whether Bayard could even hear what he was saying.
“‘Fallen are the Vezeyfolk,’” Bayard muttered, still staring at the opposite bank of the gully. He turned on his heel and strode along the edge of the gully toward the Western Road. His goats trotted to keep up.
“Bayard!” Aidan cried, a little alarmed at the sudden change in the man. “Where are you going?”
“To the library!” Bayard shouted without looking back.
“Wait, Bayard! Come to Sinking Canyons with us!” Aidan called after him. “We need you!”
Bayard didn’t answer, but kept walking with the long, fast strides of a man with a purpose.
“Bayard, I need your help!” Aidan was almost begging now, trying to push past the goats to catch up with the Truthspeaker. “I need advice, Bayard.”
Bayard kept walking but turned his head to speak. “Live the life that unfolds before you.”
“Not that kind of advice, Bayard!”
“Love goodness more than you fear evil.”
“No, Bayard! That’s what you always tell me. I need some new advice!”
Bayard stopped dead at the edge of the road and turned to face Aidan. “No, Aidan,” he said firmly, “you don’t need any new advice. You need to heed the old advice.”
“But, Bayard, everything has gotten so complicated. I try to lead, but people don’t always follow. I try to follow, and nobody seems to be leading. I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to-”
Bayard quieted Aidan with a raised hand. “Well then, Aidan, here’s my advice: Do what you were doing already. Hurry to Sinking Canyons. Be ready to fight. The Pyrthens are coming.”
Aidan nodded.
“Did you need a prophet to tell you that?”
Aidan shook his head no.
“The future is a dark path, Aidan. It’s even dark for me most of the time, and I’m a prophet. But the living God always gives you light to get to the next turning. Stay in the path, Aidan. There’s light enough. When you get to the second turning, the third, the twentieth, they’ll be lit too.”
Bayard put a hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “You don’t need a prophet as much as you think you do, Aidan. You need to live the life the living God is unfolding before you.”
Bayard turned to go east, the direction from which Aidan and Dobro had come. Then he turned back for one last word. “This was no chance meeting.” He pointed up the gully. “Remember this place. Here is written the history of Corenwald.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Aidan just wanted to rest when he got back to Sinking Canyons. It had been a long trip from Tambluff. But Jasper wouldn’t wait. He grabbed Aidan by the arm and began leading him down-canyon. “Aidan!” he said. “You’re not going to believe this!”
“Can it wait?” Aidan asked. “I really need to see Father.”
“See Father later,” Jasper insisted. “You’ve got to see this.”
“Are you taking me to the diggings?” Aidan asked.
Jasper nodded eagerly.
“Jasper, we’ve got a lot of things to do that are a lot more important than digging up old timbers and broken pottery. You’re supposed to be helping train an army.”
“I have been helping train an army, Aidan,” Jasper retorted, a touch of indignation in his voice. “You’re the one who’s been gallivanting all over the place.”
They soon arrived at the diggings, which were significantly bigger than they had been when Aidan left for Tambluff. “Looks like you’ve put the new recruits to work,” Aidan observed.
“Every good soldier needs to have some practice digging fortifications,” Jasper said. “They might as well practice here.”
“But this is what I wanted to show you,” Jasper continued. He pointed at a blue-gray granite block, about two feet in height, depth, and width.
“You dug this up?” Aidan asked.
“Yes. It took eight men to drag it out of the hole.”
