Margo copied the hold on her own knife. It felt odd.
”Third,” Sven shifted his blade again, “we have the icepick grip.” He now held the knife upside down, so that the blade lay flat against the length of his forearm.
”That looks silly,” Margo commented. It felt silly, too.
Sven lifted his forearm toward her. “Would you care to hit my arm with that sharp edge in the way?”
”Well, no.”
”Right. It guards your arm somewhat. Moreover,” he moved with lightning speed, “you can come across your body with a wicked slash and follow up with a powerful stab.”
The knifepoint stopped half-an-inch from Margo’s breastbone. She gulped. “Oh.”
”Limited, but useful. You’ll master all three grips and the moves useful or unique to them.”
”All right. Where do we begin”
”With the types of knife blades and what each is useful for.” He retrieved the practice knife he’d loaned her, then rummaged in a case he’d brought out to the practice floor. Sven laid out half-a-dozen knives, all carefully sheathed.
”All right. There are two very basic blade shapes, with multiple variations. This,” he drew a ten-inch, thick bladed knife, “is a Bowie. The spine is thick for strength. This whole side has been cut away, so the knife isn’t symmetrical. The curved upper edge is called a false edge. It’s often sharpened, but not always. Sometimes these blades have `saw teeth’ added. Mostly saw teeth are a sales gimmick, based on bad twentieth-century movies. The teeth are too large to be any good sawing anything. Avoid them. They can get caught on ribs, then you’re stuck with no knife.”