The Battlefront

"Again! You are not using enough force and you are not utilising your footwork. Defend yourself too, you are leaving way too many vulnerable points open and undefended."

Charlotte panted, her sweat trickling down her forehead as she looked up at her father from her hunched position, running out of steam due to the intense training.

"Oh Father, do go easy on me. I'm but a delicate, fragile maiden. And might I add that you look so young and handsome today Father. Absolutely dashing" she said flatteringly, trying to gain sympathy from her father.

"You are stronger than most boys your age," he deadpanned, his brow twitching as he proceeded to say, " do I not always look young and handsome or are you implying that I look old and ugly every other time?"

The young girl chuckled nervously, "Ah, well.... W-what I mean to say is-….."

"I want thirty lifts of your usual weight training and then we shall resume close combat training," he cut her off as he walked towards the kraal to milk the cow, "And remember, I can see you from the kraal so don't even think of stopping or lying to me about how many lifts you've done like you did last time unless you’d like double the weight."

Her heart sank and she sighed, getting into position before beginning her punishment, regretting her statement.

"27, 28...,29....,30!" she exclaimed, tossing the broom with buckets filled with rocks on either side onto the ground and lying down, breathing heavily, the smell of fresh grass filling her nostrils and the morning dew dampening her clothes.

"Well done, now up you go and let's begin."

Charlotte groaned, looking at her father's bright smile and shuddering at the thought of how she would be run into the ground by her father's merciless training.

"Alright, that's it for today, you may go rest and then start your chores."

As soon as her father left, Charlotte fell to the ground, unable to stabilise her breathing, wishing that she could just stay on the ground and not move a muscle. After a couple of minutes, she sat up straight, slowly picking herself up as she went to bath and change, dragging her feet to the kitchen.

"Charlotte!"

"I'm right outside!"

Charlotte opened the old wooden door coming face to face with her mother who was scowling. She flinched, realising that her and her father's antics were probably found out or discovered again.

"Charlotte, you know very well that it is simply improper and inelegant for you as a girl to be fighting, especially at your age. You're a lady for heaven's sake! You are now at the age of marriage, eighteen, in fact you're older than most men would prefer! Imagine you growing old as a maiden just because of rumours circulating that you do ghastly like things such as kicking, punching and whatever the hell you do in those brutish lessons with your father! And your father should know better than to teach a girl such bad, unladylike behaviour!"

Charlotte listened to her mother's long lecture, angry at her father for slipping out the back door quietly and unnoticed.

"Are you even listening to me!"

"Pardon?"

Her mother glared daggers at her, disapproving of her attitude.

"Go and buy some bread from the Finnigans' farm. I shall give your father an earful!" she shouted, shoving her out of the door, throwing her a basket before slamming the door in her face.

"Goerge!" she heard her mother call out for her father.

Charlotte tsked, feeling sorry for her father, "The poor old man. He's a dead man when he gets home."

And with that, she skipped merrily on her errand, whistling a happy tune, glad to have escaped a long lecture in hopes that her mother would have forgotten her lecture by the time she's done with her chores.