The Guardians (21 page)

He too was big, but fleshy. He had a high forehead, fat cheeks, and spectacles whose lenses had no rims. He picked me out as I headed toward the classroom.

“Young Ben of Old Isle! How are you, boy?”

“Well, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He was smiling, but he smiled easily. People said he was the best Sheriff in living memory, more easygoing than his predecessors. The stocks which stood across the green from his house were empty more often than not. I thought I ought to like him, but could not.

“The Master is well, I hope?”

The tone was solicitous, but I didn't believe the hope was honest. I had once observed him in conversation with the Master, and though I could not distinguish their words, there had been contempt in the Master's
voice, wheedling unease in the Sheriff's.

I said, “He is well, sir.”

“Respect him, boy. He is a great man.”

“Indeed he is!”

I spoke warmly and thought his eyes narrowed behind the rimless lenses, but he smiled still more widely and patted my head to send me on my way.

•  •  •

Although I would not have preferred to live there, I found Sheriff's an exciting place. Apart from ruinous mounds from the days of the Madness, fascinating forbidden territory, there was the bustle of people, and there were shops. The
Hesperus
, which took produce to the mainland and brought back other goods, had recently returned. Paddy and I found mainland sweets tastier than the Widow Barnes's fudge, and with hoarded pennies we bought sticks of toffee studded with hazelnuts. We munched our way happily to the quay, where Joe was waiting for us.

I began to rattle off an account of the day, but Paddy interrupted.

“What is it, Joe? What's wrong?”

When I looked, his expression was troubled. He turned his head away.

“Nothing that won't wait. We've a tide to catch.”

She grasped his arm. “Tell us now.”

I envied her manner of commanding him. He stared unhappily. “Well, you'll have to know. It's the Master.”

“What about him?” I asked.

But Paddy had read Joe's face. “Not
dead
?”

“No,” I said. “That can't be!”

Yet now I could read his grimness too, and knew it was.

Also by John Christopher

From Aladdin

THE TRIPODS SERIES

The White Mountains

The City of Gold and Lead

The Pool of Fire

When the Tripods Came

The Lotus Caves

A Dusk of Demons

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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This Aladdin hardcover edition November 2014

Text copyright © 1970 by John Christopher

Jacket illustration copyright © 2014 by Anton Petrov

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Interior designed by Hilary Zarycky

The text of this book was set in Venetian 301.

Library of Congress Control Number 2014942556

ISBN 978-1-4814-1835-5 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-4814-1834-8 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-4814-1836-2 (eBook)