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All women were capable of defending themselves, if only they were taught. She couldn’t wait for Wednesday to get back to teaching her own pupils. Her thoughts flew to Moll and Annie, women on the margins, women who dwelled in London’s dangerous underbelly. She didn’t see any men lining up to protect them!
“Pissing pick handles again,” Moll the cutpurse said falling into step beside Lucinda as she crossed the southern exit of London Bridge. “Tis a good thing we arranged to have our lessons indoors.”
Reluctantly Lucinda agreed, an indoor venue had its advantages, but she would need to remind her pupils of the utmost need for secrecy.
“Don’t fret.” Moll reassured her. “The sisters can keep a secret.”
“Sisters? You and Annie are not sisters.”
“Hardly,” Moll laughed out loud. “Have you looked at us? Last week after you left, we decided to call ourselves The Sisters of the Sword. It has a certain ring to it, do you not think?”
Sisters of the Sword. She turned the name over in her mind.
“Why not? If you really think we need a name.”
“Every fencing academy needs a name.”
“It is hardly an academy”
“Not yet, but it will be one day.” Moll tapped the side of her nose. “We are going places, remember?” She did not share Moll’s supreme confidence, but Moll was right, it did not hurt to dream. Moll went on ahead promising to leave the door to the cellar unlocked. “We thought it better to space out our arrivals,” she said as she sped away.
Arrivals? It was only her and Moll yet to arrive since Annie lived at the brothel. Still, it was a wise plan so she thought no more of it until she stealthily made her way into the basement of The Cardinal’s Cap, her rapiers wrapped in a spare cloak ready for the second meeting of the newly christened Sisters of the Sword.
“Who is this?” Lucinda said counting an extra body lurking in the shadows. A woman who looked vaguely familiar stepped forward. She had striking red curly hair, a heart-shaped face and caramel brown eyes, but there was a shadow of wariness about her like a dog that is accustomed to being kicked. Her outer dress was of a good quality that had seen far better days, with many darned patches and mismatched kirtle and sleeves.
“My friend, Lizzie,” Annie said placing a protective arm around her friend, who studied Lucinda carefully but let Annie do the talking. “Lizzie is in desperate need of learning how to defend herself, or I would not have brought her. Please let us start straight away. I do not have long before I am needed upstairs, and I have been practicing what you showed us all week.” The way Annie was dressed in a very low-cut dress, her long blonde tresses hastily caught up under a cap well supported the impression that she was stealing time away from her “duties“.
“Very well,” Lucinda sighed. “The more the merrier, though I only brought three weapons with me.”
“That is not a problem,” Moll said producing a shiny new-looking rapier from behind her back.
“Please tell me you did not steal that.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Moll grinned. “I won it in a card game and had a blacksmith blunt the edge. All dressed as a man of course. A woman beating a man at cards? That could never happen!” Moll treated them all to another flash of her remarkably white teeth.
Without wasting any more time on preamble Lucinda lined the others up opposite her and ran them through some footwork. She explained for Lizzie’s benefit that the right foot is nearly always in front when fighting with a rapier. To advance on an opponent, the right foot steps forward and the back foot comes to meet it. To retreat is the opposite; the left or back foot leads, and the front foot comes to meet it. She bade Lizzie and Annie hitch up their skirts so she could keep a check on their foot movements.
Compared to men, the women seemed much lighter on their feet, the swift dance-like steps perhaps being more natural; however, learning the guard positions proved more of a challenge. Moll had grown up like Lucinda, using toy wooden swords and fighting boys, but Annie and Lizzie did not have that advantage. She found it best to stand opposite each woman and hold up a small square of wood to show which position an attack was coming from. This made it easier to distinguish the area of cover each guard position provided, either high or low, the inside line across the body, or the outside line on the right of their sword arm.
“What do we do with our other hand?” Annie asked, tucking a stray blonde curl back under her cap.
“Hold it behind you out of the way of your opponent’s sword. Later I shall teach you how to use a buckler or a dagger or even a cloak in your left hand to fight with, but that is getting way ahead of where we are now.”
They moved on from learning guard positions to lunging, the most crucial skill in fighting with a rapier, as a lightning-fast lunge brings the sword into range before your opponent has time to mount a counterattack. “The sequence of movement and judgment of distance are of vital importance for an effective lunge,” Lucinda continued.
“I should be good at this,” Annie nudged Lizzie with her elbow. “I can tell the difference between five or six inches at a glance.” It was the first smile Lizzie had managed despite the constant jesting and ribbing that bounced between Annie and Moll, but soon all jesting was replaced by intense concentration as Lucinda had them practice the correct lunge sequence over and over again. When finally they had it mastered, she tested them one by one, until each and every woman drooped in exhaustion.
“Excellent!” Lucinda beamed.
“Why are you not sweating or panting when we are collapsing like hard-ridden mares?” Moll complained.
“Speak for yourself,” Annie interjected. “I have never collapsed no matter how hard I am ridden, though I’ve caused a few old stallions to fall over.”
Her comment set the room cackling and effectively ended the class for it is quite impossible to handle a weapon if all you can do at the time is roll about and laugh. “I must go now,” Annie said once she recovered sufficiently to talk. She came behind her friend Lizzie and gave her a hug. “See, I told you it would make you feel better.” Lizzie gave a slight nod in assent.
“Where do I know you from?” Lucinda asked Lizzie. Those wild red curls seemed vaguely familiar. It had been puzzling her the whole time.
“I was a searcher during the plague. I tried to stop you going into a baker’s house to deliver a baby. You were with Nathan Field.” The circumstances came back to Lucinda in a vivid flash. “You put up quite the fight then if I recall. You are a natural born fighter.” Suddenly Lizzie dissolved into sobs leaving Lucinda at a loss as to why. She looked at Moll wondering what it was she said wrong.
