It was the pure truth. The old knight might have been strict with his students, but he had a soft heart and helped everyone wherever he could. However, he had a rather deterrent effect on women.
Frog, that's what she sometimes called her father.
His big eyes lay beneath bushy brows, and even when he said something in pure kindness, he mostly still looked rather angry. That's why Alina used to be afraid of him.
The cheeks bulged beneath them, once covered by a tangled beard. In addition, the countless scars from battle made it difficult for many to see him as a knight full of honor.
"I once saved the pretty daughter of a wealthy nobleman," he began cheerfully, a story often repeated, as if he had found someone this time who would buy it from him.
Alina rolled her eyes and let her head sink onto the table.
"In return, she gave me a few secret nights, from which this really cute thing emerged. Unfortunately, the mother passed away shortly after her birth."
Despite his terrifying appearance, Marno tried to portray the grieving widower, which rarely succeeded. Mostly only when Alina obediently played her role alongside. She didn't feel like doing so tonight.
"Blah, blah, blah..." A yawn drowned out these words.
A knock on the head descended upon her, waking the girl completely now.
"Ouch," she complained loudly.
"My dearest daughter, shouldn't you have been asleep in bed long ago?" Marno said, getting close to her face.
An unmistakable order, indicating that she should disappear into bed immediately and only come out again when the next morning dawned and their guests were gone.
But she didn't obey that easily.
"Dearest father, unfortunately, I cannot sleep when our guests are making such a racket," the girl complained loudly.
Beldor showed no shock or annoyance, as her father assumed he would. Rather, he laughed amusedly.
"A truly spirited girl," he acknowledged, now giving her his full attention. "How old is the daughter?"
"Seven!" she exclaimed proudly.
"And what is your name?"
"Alina," she answered now quite obediently, not understanding why the man at the other end of the table was looking at her so bewildered.
And Marno didn't understand it either.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Judge?" Marno inquired of his guest.
"No, no," he replied. He swallowed before explaining his surprise. "But tell me, were you or the mother of this child an ally of the Amazons?"
The other man at the table still didn't understand.
Marno wasn't interested in the Amazons, their history, or their war. It was Alina who moved closer to her father. She still faintly remembered evenings by the fire. She usually slept at her mother's side, but sometimes she could listen to them.
How they reported everything, even all the old stories. One of them she liked best. The one about an ally named Alina.
"Alina, that was also the name of the woman on whom the famous Amazon village was founded," Beldor explained briefly.
A thief with a good heart, who in times of need opened her camp to the poor.
Marno shrugged.
"Maybe she just liked the name," he expressed his opinion. A brief glance wandered to his young daughter. "I didn't choose that name. If it causes problems, I could change it."
He turned his head to the child, throwing in a few names, at which the girl shook her head.
No, she was Alina and she would remain so!
"We should get to my final request," the judge suggested.
He had held back for the last few minutes, but now the boy became loud.
"Father, I don't want to go to school here!" he protested. This only reinforced in Alina the impression of a spoiled, rich brat who would expect a lesson from her. "I'm supposed to expand my sword skills among this peasant rabble? You can't do this to me!" He looked disdainfully at Marno. "It doesn't look like I can improve my technique here anyway."
"Yes, you will," Beldor insisted, tired of the discussion with his stubborn son.
"He won't," Marno stated his opinion. "I only take students at the age of 18."
One of Marno's golden rules.
In his opinion, children did not belong with weapons. No matter what anyone said or did. His only exception was Alina. His pretty foundling, whom he didn't want to lose to any rogue, whether they were after her meager belongings or something else.
"I would be willing to leave a substantial sum if you would teach my son."
"No!" Marno remained stubborn, not at all impressed by the judge.
Stubbornness and perseverance, the will to achieve everything, had always distinguished the chief judge.
He grinned triumphantly. Almost as if he had already won long ago, instead of being in the midst of the battle.
"I understand that the school means a lot to you. As one can see, it involves many costs. The revenues will hardly cover the maintenance for the students or feed your family. Sooner rather than later, you would have to give up the school to at least provide a comfortable life for your daughter. I now offer my hand to spare this school such an end."
Deep wrinkles creased Marno's face, as always when he thought of the situation of his little dream. Like a soap bubble, it threatened to burst at any moment under all pressure.
Yet the old knight was not inactive. He even visited King Ylias, hoping for a generous donation. Without success. The fact that this man now made him such an offer shook his golden rules. Even little Alina understood that they urgently needed a solution to continue this life.
In the end, he gave in to the judge's insistence.
"I will do it! I will teach the boy as long as King Ylias allows it."
"Father, I'll only stay here if any of these peasants defeats me in swordplay," grumbled the boy of only 10 years old. Physically inferior to each of their students by far.
But if he wanted a lesson, she would gladly give it to him herself. The girl looked pleadingly at her father. Alina was eager to show this conceited boy that even a girl could defeat him.
She might not be able to compete with the older students yet, if they were skilled in combat. But this boy was only slightly bigger than her, so that should be possible.
"The king will surely have no objections." Beldor seemed confident, even after looking at his stubborn son. "Would you mind calling a few of the students to show my son that there are talented boys among them? My clever son is a bit particular."
The glance of the other man clearly expressed that he wished for nothing more than to give this spoiled brat a beating, but not to wake up his students. He would never admit it loudly in front of the judge.
Before he complied, he glanced briefly at his young daughter, who would have liked to wield the sword herself.
Her father still insisted that she train with a wooden sword, although her talent was evident even now. Sometimes she could sneak off to the students and practice with them and a real sword.
Even there, she impressed many of the boys.
If only her father would see that.
Her head sank sadly onto the table, from where she observed the boy closely, who just sat there. Stubborn and grim-looking. Even after his father had brought him the sword, he still didn't move.
He didn't want to be here, and Alina was fine with that, if it meant he would disappear after some humiliation.
She blew upwards, where a strand of her honey-blond hair just couldn't find any other place. Waiting for her father to return.