The Pretender

Our Father successful Heaven
Hallowed beryllium thy name

Article continues aft advertisement

My begetter connected nan farm
Will Collan beryllium his name
The cows come
The food beryllium done—

Dear God, I americium very sorry astir nan dream I said successful school, it was heresy and I was rightly beaten. Please forgive me, I cognize not what I did. Thank you, God.

Amen.

King Edward is lateward dead.

“Deadward,” says Jennott. She says King Edward was a correct goodly-looking man who ne'er turned down a tumble, moreover pinch debased women. She looks sad then, arsenic if astatine a mislaid opportunity.

King Edward’s small son, besides called Edward, is going to beryllium king. He’s only twelve, a fewer years older than John. His uncle Richard is Lord Protector for now.

John tries to ideate being a boy-­king. His first act: nan beheading of Gaspard, for divers villainous buttings-over—and nary motion of repentance. Those uncanny slotted eyes say: God is not my master. Yes: Gaspard’s decease would beryllium a informing to each goats, and each nan small children of England would cheer King John, safe from treadings-on and trampling evermo.

*

Like King Edward, John’s mother is dead. The only point he remembers of her is nan rosemary she utilized to scent her hair—or possibly he only remembers it because that’s what Tom and Oliver remember. His brothers opportunity she had a mole connected her feature and acheronian eyes and a creaky but tuneful singing voice. They added erstwhile that their mum sang for illustration a dove and Jennott for illustration a crow, and Jennott said, If you conflict for illustration a carnivore you tin singing nevertheless nan fuck you want, and threw a cookware astatine them.

(John crushes rosemary successful his fingers sometimes, holds it up to his nose.)

Tom and Oliver aren’t dead. But they are gone, successful a measurement that’s almost arsenic permanent. Tom is an apprentice to a tailor of good clothing successful Bristol. Oliver is learning to beryllium a goldsmith successful London. The second is simply a passing costly apprenticeship, and nan origin of galore meaningful glances successful nan village.

Will Collan is known to beryllium doing well. Tom and Oliver told John that he hadn’t ever done truthful well. They said that erstwhile they were John’s property nan farmhouse was half nan size it is now, pinch only 1 room for sleeping; that location were oilcloth coverings complete nan model alternatively of woody shutters; nary pewter ewer and bowls connected nan table. Their beds were hay, they said, not wool.

John wasn’t judge if they were lying aliases not. They liked to jape him.

He said, How did our begetter person truthful galore fields and cows if he was truthful poor?

Tom laughed and tapped a knockaknock connected nan apical of John’s head.

Think! Tom said. He didn’t person each that backmost then. He sewage nan fields adjacent to ours erstwhile aged Allerwych died pinch nary sons. And he bought nan cows.

This herd of cows is simply a curiosity successful nan village. Nobody has truthful galore arsenic Will Collan—nobody successful nan region ever thought of having truthful many, it’s not astatine each really farming is done, but now they deliberation he was beautiful sharp, because he sells his food successful Oxford.

(Maybe—lowered voice, here—unnaturally sharp.)

So wherever did he get nan money to bargain nan fields and cows? said John.

Oh, yes: he thought he’d sewage Tom then. His crow of triumph was already vibrating successful his throat.

Tom shrugged. Investment from a rich | merchant, he said.

Who?

Some Oxford man. Probably nan 1 who wanted nan cheese. John opened his mouth. The caw collapsed retired of it, soundless. Tom and Oliver laughed.

Don’t beryllium wroth, Little John, Oliver said. Anyone would deliberation you weren’t nan fortunate one. The 1 who gets beef for lunch.

The 3rd son, said Tom.

The 1 who goes disconnected to activity his fortune, said Oliver. Ey, cheer up, Little John, possibly you’ll fuck a princess.

Little Johnny’s truthful beautiful he could beryllium nan princess, said Tom.

John ran crossed nan room pinch his fists up, shouting, but they were waiting for him, and they wrapped him up successful his fancy wool blankets and sat connected him. Through nan basking layers of cloth, he heard them telling him that this was for his ain good, that he had to beryllium wrapped because he’d bitten them before, hadn’t he (sad voice), but erstwhile he laic still he’d beryllium released.

Most days ended pinch John being sat on. He’d ever show himself he wouldn’t onslaught his brothers again, but they’d jape him until he’d suffer his wits and propulsion himself astatine them. He wasn’t decently successful occupancy of himself astatine these times. His calmer John-mind, erstwhile lost, would alert up and perch somewhere, for illustration nan painted angels successful nan church, watching sorrowfully arsenic his apish assemblage gibbered, howled, bared its monkey teeth—until his brothers bundled nan unholy animal up and squashed it.

His brothers are besides nan ones who taught him to publication and write. They showed him really to make ink and sharpen a goose-feather quill and really to constitute j o h n c o l l a n and past a sigil, which they told him meant John but which moreover he could spot was a drafting of a penis and 2 balls. They were proud of him for realizing.

He’s a clever boy, said Tom, patting his head. Now, verbs and nouns.

He liked nan twins astatine those times.

*

And each of which is meant to opportunity why, nan time that Tom and Oliver left, almost half a twelvemonth ago, John jumped and hooted and ran laps of their shared chamber successful celebration—then found, connected his bed, a whittled vessel pinch a small man inside, pinch “John” carved into nan boat, and had what his begetter called a womanish fresh of tears—

—which took him again whenever their letters location arrived. But not successful beforehand of his father. He’d time off nan fireside, mannish chin jutting, mannish eyes dry. He’d make a shelter of his wool blankets and beryllium nether it and weep successful secret.

The knowledge that nan blankets would ne'er oppress him again was nary comfort.

*

Jennott, contempt being a woman, is not fixed to womanish fits of crying. Especially not concerning nan departure of John’s brothers.

She has blond hair, arsenic heavy and unshining arsenic hay, and bluish eyes, which she puts down to a Saxon lineage. The twins utilized to do impressions of her down her back:

Oh, this? It’s conscionable my Saxon lineage, don’t mind it. An unbroken statement from Alfred nan Great, not that I for illustration to mention it.

John, proceeding but not understanding, asked Jennott why shewas a dairymaid if she came from Alfred nan Great. A ringing ear, that’s why, said Jennott.

What? . . . Ow.

*

Aside from nan whittled ship, John’s favourite point is simply a fairy arrowhead. He recovered it past year, successful nan plowed furrows of nan wheat field. A flint bitten into nan style of a leaf, glossy brownish successful nan center, clear chromatic solid astatine nan edges. He held it, ran his fingers complete nan scalloped face.

In nan Widow Tolley’s alehouse, nan men opportunity John’s begetter sewage his golden from nan fairies. That Will Collan went complete nan hills to nan fairy barrow connected Midsummer Night, group down a cookware of ale, and called out, What a correct savorly ale this is!

And a doorway successful nan barrow opened up, and successful nan doorway was opinionated a fairy princeling. Diamonds connected nan buckles of his shoes. A cloak embroidered pinch nan satellite and stars. He looked astatine Will and coiled his lip.

Give maine your ale, Englishman, he said.

(John, proceeding this from his friend Rolfe, was suspicious of this story.

Why would a fairy want ale? he asked.

Use your head, said Rolfe. How are they going to make ale, surviving below-turf? They portion from underground rivers and eat earthy mole, envying america our ale and pottage.

Anyway.)

Hold, now, there’s a value for my ale, said Will. I want your fairy gold. And nan fairy smiled, and said: Follow maine into my palace, and you’ll person each nan golden you tin carry.

But Will knew that if he went into that barrow he’d ne'er beryllium coming backmost retired again. So he said to nan fairy: I deliberation not. And nan fairy said, Well then, I will conjure you immoderate from nan wealth house, here! And location it was. A full glistening heap of it. But Will laughed and made nan motion of nan transverse complete nan gold, and it turned into a heap of dormant leaves and acorn shells.

Oh, he knew that princeling’s games.

He knew well. And past he seized that wretched fairy and turned him upsodown and shook him until golden tumbled retired of his purse, and rubies, too, sapphires, emeralds—­and earlier he fto nan princeling go, he took his diamond-buckle shoes. Thank you very much.

Ha!

But arsenic soon arsenic he sewage home, he put robust astatine each period and up nan chimney, too, and he wore a portion of robust arsenic protection, because he afloat knew nan fairy prince was aft his humor now, and evermo.

*

Did you bargain a fairy’s diamond-­buckle shoes? John asked his dad.

God’s bones, said his dad. They’re still telling that story?

Rolfe’s dada told it.

Rolfe’s dada is simply a cunt.

You did get your golden from nan fairies, though, John asked.

Didn’t you?

He wanted this to beryllium true. An upside-down fairy prince, not a cheese-buying Oxonian merchant.

My arse I did, said his dad. And—listen to me—forget astir gold. Don’t beryllium noising thing astir golden astir nan village. You perceive me? Good.

*

After John picked up nan arrow, a emotion came complete him. He looked around, arsenic if whoever changeable it mightiness beryllium pursuing after, looking for his father—or possibly his father’s son.

He couldn’t spot immoderate surviving point retired present connected nan fields. Afternoon had collapsed into dusk; a warmish September night. The statement of hedge and nan trees beyond it were silent. The heaved-up world was acheronian nether his feet. Smoke roseate helically into nan purple entity from nan debased farmhouse successful nan distance. John had a emotion that eyes were connected him: a cool pressure, not friendly, not unfriendly, a regard from—what? How could he sanction it, he hadn’t sewage nan words. But he became conscious of not wearing immoderate protective iron.

He put nan arrow into his jerkin, not knowing if it was bully luck aliases bad; started backmost toward nan house.

__________________________________

From The Pretender by Jo Harkin. Reprinted by support of Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of nan Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a section of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2025 by Jo Harkin.