Page 33 of The Swordmaster's Daughter

Grandma Jones was not so easily deflected. “Maud tells me you have offered to teach her how to defend herself,” came the voice from behind her shoulder, “and also how to use a sword? Is this true?” No one knew the power of silence better than Grandma Jones, a silence which she now used to the fullest effect.

“It is true,” Lucinda confessed though she did not turn around but kept looking at Maud for courage and inspiration. She was the reason for her rash promise. She would not let her down. “I thought it might help her not to feel so helpless. To take something of herself back. I have not told you yet, though I did mean to, I have been teaching some other women how to use a sword and how to defend themselves. We meet on a Wednesday when Father goes to his meetings, and I have some free time.”

Silence again. No reaction, prompting Lucinda to rush back into the conversational void. “Another of my friends was the victim of an attack and gave me the idea. She has only come to the lessons once thus far, but she did find it helpful, so I thought maybe Maud would too.”

Silence again.

Walls dripping with anticipation.

Maud wide-eyed and flicking her attention back and forth from her to Grandma.

“I thought I could give Maud a lesson next Wednesday? Sometime after noon?”

“Would you really do that for me? I would be so grateful. I could give Father his midday meal then come straight over before I need to finish my other chores.”

Finally Grandma Jones spoke again by which time Lucinda no longer felt like she was on a spit roast but instead being pinioned to the Inquisitor’s rack.

“Where have you been conducting these other lessons, pray tell?”

“On a Wednesday morning. That is why I suggested the afternoon for Maud...”

“I asked where, not when? A straight answer. No prevaricating.” Grandma Jones knew her too well. She folded her arms and tapped her booted feet on the stone. Not a good sign.

“At a tavern.”

“Which tavern?”

“One in Southbank.”

“There are many taverns in Southbank, precisely which one?”

“The Cardinal’s Cap,” she mumbled, but Grandma’s hearing was too sharp and her own voice distressingly shrill.

“You have been teaching women to fight in a brothel! Please tell me this is not so.” Lucinda lowered her head while the Sword of Damocles hovered. She imagined the blade an inch from the back of her neck, but it was only Grandma’s heavy breathing that had set the hairs to attention on her skin. Time seemed to hold its breath for a few moments as she waited for the sword to fall and take her head with it. Maud stared wide-eyed at Lucinda, waiting for Grandma Jones to react.

“THAT. STOPS. NOW.”

Each word was a hard deliberate whack.

“No granddaughter of mine visits a brothel.”

“Yes Grandma. And Maud’s lesson?”

“You will ask the other ladies to join you here. That is, if Maud agrees to share her lesson?”

“Gladly,” Maud squeaked, “I would enjoy the company. Since mother died, I do not have time to see any friends.”

It was only then that Lucinda turned around to look at her grandmother. There was disapproval in her expression, but she must not be entirely against the idea or she would not have proposed moving the lesson to Whitefriars. No doubt her aim was to keep it under her control. She might have a different notion once she met Moll and Annie, and for that matter Lizzie. Propriety and decorum were not the Sisters of the Sword’s most notable features.

“There is more I must tell you, though Maud does not need to know the details...”

With a curt nod Grandma Jones told her to stay put while she escorted Maud out to the laneway. There were still a few fencers leaving, and the light was growing dimmer. It would not do to put the traumatized girl in the pathway of men with daggers and swords.

When Grandma returned, she was purse-lipped and justifiably angry. “What madness has possessed you?” she started. “Whatever were you thinking?”

“Before you condemn me, I need to show you this.” Lucinda pulled the rope from out of her bodice. “This is the rope I picked up that was used on Maud.” She strode over to the basket sitting upon a corner bench, rummaged through the contents and pulled the matching rope from the bottom. “This rope was used to tie up Lizzie, the other acquaintance of mine who was attacked.”

Grandma picked up the two pieces of rope and carefully examined them. “They look the same. So that means...”

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