His grip on Alina testified to an unusual strength, a determination not to let her go.
"Take care of yourself, my child," he said weakly.
Was it possible? Had Marno cried last night, that his heart now felt so heavy? He was not a man who lingered with emotions. At least he didn't show them to his daughter. Marno had accepted her as his child but raised her as strictly as any of his students.
A slap for disobedience was not uncommon, and only sometimes did he sit with the child whenever it cried.
Today, not even her confident smile dispelled the dark clouds that obscured his heart.
"I didn't train you for years just to lose you in a den of thieves," the old man said. A groan escaped his throat. "If necessary, I'll help you get in there unscathed."
"Marno, you're getting old!" Alina cried, freeing herself from his strong grip. She was grateful to him for all the years he had become her family. Alina could freely claim to love him like the father she never got to know. And yet she never confessed this feeling to him.
Was it a mistake now?
No, Alina would come back so she could tell him, that was certain.
"If you think about coming with us to wield the sword in battle once again, I have to disappoint you. You're a good teacher to all, but you'll hardly stand against a gang of young robbers."
"Alina!" he called her to order with all his sternness. "Don't joke! We're in real trouble this time!"
Before she became aware of her father's voice dominated by emotions, he embraced her again.
"You know how rarely I say something like this," he began. "But you should know that you're the most precious thing to me in life. I've never regretted taking you in."
Rarely did it hit exactly where it was the first time he addressed such words to his daughter.
"Don't unnecessarily risk your life. If you're in danger, ask to be admitted to Morlo and mention me as your father. I can't tell you why, but if that dog has any honor left, he won't harm you."
Marno let go of her. Not to let his child go just like that. His hand gently patted her cheek.
"I hope to see your pretty face again," he said. "Even if it's just to give you away at the wedding altar."
It remained unspoken which boy he granted the honor of marrying her, although it hung heavily between them.
Thick tears rolled down Alina's cheeks.
Damn it, she didn't want to cry in front of him, after all, Alina was a big girl, not a little child anymore. She couldn't even claim it was fear pulling at her.
"Beldor always knows what to do," she tried to give her father hope. "No one will blame us for choosing this path, and maybe he can help us further. There's no one who knows the history of the Amazons better than him, or has a better connection to the kings."
"The Executioner of Ylora," Marno called his old friend's reputation with a snort. "I hope Ero can forget his pride for once in his life. The boy defends the father whenever he deems it necessary." His voice became urgent. "Should anyone find out who this boy is, no one can help you anymore."
With the back of her hand, Alina wiped away the tears. Her father didn't mince words and acknowledged chances for them that couldn't be worse.
"We'll make it!" she said sternly to her father and herself. Her heart fluttered with excitement at the upcoming challenge. It transferred to her stomach and ended in a slight tremble that no one else but her would notice. "There's still so much I never got to tell you."
Once again, his fingers brushed over her cheek. A smile crossed the broad mouth of the man.
"I'm most interested in when I'll see my sweet daughter at the wedding altar."
An old song. Both fathers urged the children to confess their love. And even if it were the only way to save the school, Alina couldn't give in to him.
Ero might be a childhood friend, but for her, there was only one reason to marry. Love. At least she had that in common with her mother. She would rather die than agree to a marriage out of reason or coercion.
"As soon as you're back, we really should talk. There's a lot about your father's life that you don't know either."
"That's typical!" came the voice of a boy from the stables. Ero walked briskly toward them, the reins of both horses in his hands.
His Falira was a noble riding horse. With elegant movements and her head towering far above her master's, she followed him half a step behind. Old Belena, on the other hand, struggled to keep up.
Her best years were behind her, and Alina would have gladly let her stay in the pasture instead of standing harnessed in front of the wagon. The mare put all her weight into the harness to move the wheels forward at the pace set by the boy.
In addition to provisions and two unwilling captives, the wagon was loaded with a small assortment of weapons that both could sell on their journey.
"I have to work while you chat," a final tug on Belena's reins, causing the mare to snort through her nostrils, then his way came to an end. "Remember the lady when we were supposed to embark on our mutual doom."
Ero couldn't help himself, and Alina didn't pay attention to him. She hurried past the boy to her mare. With a flat hand, she stroked the loyal animal's forehead, down to its nostrils. Only the bridle interrupted the caress.
"Just decline the mission!" the young nobleman urged his friend, oblivious to the danger.
After all, he came from a high-standing noble family. He might like to mingle with the peasants, but he didn't have to bear the consequences if someone refused the command of another noble.
"What if she makes good on her threat to attack the school?" Alina wanted to know. "The students are good, but they'll never stand against an army."
"She can't do that!" Ero was firmly convinced. "Nerre is just a commander. She can't go against the order of a king. Especially if it's the king of Miro."
Grief spread within her, which couldn't even be dispelled by the presence of her obedient mare.
"Nerre will surely send out a scout to keep an eye on our movements," she said. "If we try anything, the order to attack will be given faster than any of the kings can intervene for us." Tears flowed down her cheeks again. "I have nothing left in this world except this school and Marno. I won't put either of them in danger."
"Don't you care about your own life at all?" He was upset. Angry even. Especially when he thought of his own brother's fate. "Morlo's gang is dangerous. They spare no dancer, and I don't even want to think about what a gift I would be to them."
"It will work out," Alina said confidently. "I'll find a way to get us in and out safely."
Ero handed her the reins of the gray mare, then he mounted his own horse.
"I want to see that!" he demanded Alina with a gruff voice. A single command, and the horse leaped forward toward the school gate.
He needed distance from her and this crazy plan.
Alina sat on the driver's seat. With slower steps, her mare followed him for what might be their last ride together. A journey with an uncertain end.