The Liberi Longsword

This simple, striking longsword is optimised for the study of Fiore dei Liberi. It maintains a robust presence and a willing character, moving gracefully through cuts and thrusts even as it dominates the line.

Excellent in close measure, it can be used for both two-handed and occasional single-handed moves with comfort. The wide blade and slight downturn to the quillons provide good hand coverage at the right angles, while the hubbed wheel pommel allows for a comfortable grip and swift direction changes.

Named for the full title of Fiore himself, the Furlano longsword was an enjoyable and successful experiment in historical handling. It will make a marvellous training tool for Fiore's teachings, as well as Talhoffer and similar close-measure treatises.

Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.

Contact Us

---

∴ Specs ∴

• Total length: 108cm

• Blade length: 90cm from cross

• Blade width at widest: 4.6cm

• Grip length: 22cm

• Grip and pommel: 28cm

• Quillon span: 21.5cm

• Weight: 1635g

• Point of Balance: 7.5cm from cross

• Ambidextrous

• Blunt edges & rounded tip

• Fencing safe flex

---

∴ Notes ∴

The hand-forged and heat-treated crossguard and pommel are polished to a satin finish. The crossguard is formed of gently downturned faceted square-section quillons, which flare to the tips.

The pommel is a classic wheel pommel with a raised hub. The oak grip is wrapped first in linen thread, and then in black leather.

---

∴ Gallery ∴

---

∴ A Subtle Correction ∴

The limestone slabs of the courtyard are slick with damp, the air heavy with hot, humid mist. Wetness clings to the hems of cloaks even as sweat darkens the seams of hose. Practice swords move through the thick air with a dull, patient rhythm.

One pair of weapons rings out of time. The young noble has missed the bind again. He is tall, but all arms and legs, gangling and out-of-true with himself; miserable in the clinging damp.

Steel meets steel. Again it slides against it, and fails to hold. The boy's opponent turns his line aside as easily as he might push open a door. The young man steps back gracelessly, his breath sharp and heavy.

You watch without speaking. The boy's stance is correct in shape, but not in weight. He is fighting against the sword instead of his opponent.

The pair reset with a swish of wet cloaks. You watch the bind collapse again, the boy's face reddening. You can sense that he is about to break, beaten down by frustration, embarrassment, the oppressive heat of the day.

You know the feeling well from your own youth, and how it could spark into rage if left untended. A nuanced approach is needed.

A servant crosses the courtyard at the far edge, carrying wood for the hearth. Beyond the walls, a church bell marks the hour with indifferent patience.

Only then do you move, stepping round behind the lad and placing a hand on his shoulder. The action is subtle, almost incidental as you breeze by. No calling out or making an example; only a faint pressure, encouraging him to drop his arm. The muscles relax, the hip drops with them. The stance still isn't perfect, but it's closer.

"Here," is all you say.

The student nods, swallowing back some retort - or tears, you cannot say.

You step away, and training resumes.