Page 31 of Waking Roslyn

“Yes, please.”

“I think focusing on knives and staff would be best.”

My face twisted in confusion. “I’m not going to carry a staff with me.”

He smiled. “Of course not,” he said with a little chuckle. “You’ll carry a knife, maybe two.”

I squirmed at the thought but nodded.

“However, if you don’t have a weapon on you, the thing you’re most likely to find on hand in any place is a staff. Whether that’s a tree branch you find in the forest or a broom you find in a kitchen, I think it’s your best chance at finding a weapon on hand.”

I rubbed my palms against my skirts but nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Very good. You take this,” he said, holding a staff out toward me.

I took it, my hands wrapping so tightly around it that my knuckles went white.

“Now. I’m going to step out of the way, and I want you to swing it around. Get used to the weight of it, the way it feels in your hands, how it moves.”

I did so, having to remind myself why I was doing this.

John

She tested the weight in her hands and then started moving it around. Most people tested it out for a few moments and then wanted to move on to learning specific skills. But not Miss Rose. No, she moved in all sorts of different ways, swinging, moving, stepping, noticing when one end of the staff caught on the ground. I admired that she wanted to really feel comfortable with it before moving on, and I thought perhaps she’d end up being a natural learner.

After a handful of minutes, she set the staff at her side and looked to me. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” I stepped forward. “We’ll start with a strike from above. Hold the middle of the staff and put your hands at shoulder height.”

She did as I said, looking awkward and unsure.

“Put your right leg back, your hips forward. Like this,” I said as I demonstrated.

She looked at me and then down at herself as she tried to imitate me.

“Now, you’ll want to step forward and a little to the right as you bring the staff down toward your opponent.”

She followed my instructions and did fine with the striking movement.

“Good. Now do that same movement, but aim toward me.” I positioned myself in front of her.

“But I’ll hit you.”

“No, you’ll hit my sword because I’ll block the blow. Go ahead,” I urged and held my sword at the ready so that she could see I was prepared to raise it and block her attack.

She adjusted her grip and shifted her feet back and forth, then struck.

I was very proud of myself for not laughing. She had closed her eyes when she moved to strike. I caught the blow with my sword, and when I looked at her, her eyes were pinched tight. Then she cracked one eye open to look at me.

I pressed my lips and then managed to say, “Well done.”

Her shoulders slumped. “No, it wasn’t.” She sounded defeated and let the end of her staff drop to the ground.

“It was your first attempt. Try again.”

She did, but with similar results.

We kept trying, but the sad truth was that Rose had no natural skill when it came to defending herself. I might have to rethink my idea of training her with knives. If she couldn’t be comfortable wielding a staff, she’d never be comfortable with a blade.