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“I'll know what I planted when the plants come up,” the wildling said, completely unconcerned. “It will be written on their leaves.”
“Leaves die,” William said. “Words don't.”
The wildling gave him a curious look of incomprehension. “I see leaves, not words.”
“Words are for the air.” Another wildling joined in the discussion.
“But you can catch the words when you write them down,” William tried to explain.
“Catch words, ha!” The wildling began flailing at the air as if trying to catch invisible words. “They're escaping! Catch the words!”
Sarah watched, giggling as William shook his head and gave up. The wildlings weren't stupid people, but they did refuse to care about that which did not matter. No amount of lecturing or cajoling could change that. The wildlings hunted, gathered, and copulated, and they were not interested in changing their lifestyle.
William and Sarah retreated back to their cabin, William's little bastion of order amidst the reckless wilds. Not much was said on the way back, for Sarah was too busy finding new routes and paths through the trees and picking the occasional berry or fruit. By the time they got home she had half a basket of food to add to their stores.
Then there was work to be done. The garden had to be tended, the food had to be stored, the torches had to be lit before evening fell and wild beasts started prowling around the house, following the scent of man and food.
It was almost dusk before they settled down to dinner, and Sarah was still amused by the events of the day. The mental image of wild men pretending to catch their words played over and over, leaving her giggling.
“Stop smiling,” William said gruffly. The harshness of his words was ameliorated by a little wink in her direction as they sat at their hand-hewn dinner table enjoying a stew of vegetables from their very own garden. “This is about those damn wildlings today, isn't it?”
“They were funny,” she said. “And so were you.”
“There's nothing funny about education,” William insisted. “You know how beneficial the written word can be. It saved your life.”
“They were never going to kill me,” she reminded him. “Besides, you're a hunter. You would have found me whether I'd left a note or not.”
“It's still important,” he insisted. “If we teach them to write, we teach them to record their history.”
“Because if there's anything we need, it's history.”
“It's important to know what came before,” he said, his expression consumed with a kind of seriousness that didn't have anything to do with writing. He wasn't trying to teach a skill. He was trying to build a civilization. He did not often speak of his old life, but she knew he must yearn for it. The decision to live wild had been made impulsively in the aftermath of a grand disaster. He was probably regretting his decision and the hardships it had brought.
“You miss the city,” she said, reaching across to touch his hand gently.
He shrugged and returned to his meal without comment. Sarah felt a pang of sadness for him. Try as he might, he was not fully adapting to the wilds. He kept trying to make things as they were in the city, orderly and neat. But nothing in the wild was neat, and order was swept away in winds and rain and other elements far more powerful than a man.
“Hello?”
William and Sarah looked up from their meal to discover a stranger at the door. A stranger who was not a wildling, but a man who wore the armor of the cities. He was a tall, handsome man with shaven cheeks and all the proud bearing of a citizen. For a long moment, neither Sarah nor William responded to him. He seemed more like a hallucination than something real.
“Are you the hunter from Albion, the one they call William?” The stranger asked the question with officious confidence, as if the question itself were a mere formality, an opportunity to show his superior knowledge.
“I am,” William said. “Who are you?”
“My name is Rik Malfrew,” the man said. “I am the Nalbin City search party. I have been looking for you.”
“You have?” William's surprise was clear.
“Of course, no citizen can be left behind.” He tapped a device on his wrist. “It would have been easier if you'd stayed in the general vicinity of Albion, but I can't blame you for vacating the area as quickly as possible. Give us a couple of days and we'll arrange a transport to get us to Nalbin City.”
“Wait,” William said. “I'm not sure we want a transport.”
Rik's look of shock was quite priceless. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not sure we want to leave.”
You don't want to live out here with these animals, do you?” Rik gestured in Sarah's direction.
“They're not animals.” William's voice lowered to a more serious register. “They're people like you and me.”
