Tsuchigumo meant spider, like Jorojumo, the warlord who had betrayed Tyrus. Jorojumo, though, referred to web spinners. Tsuchigumo were ground spiders. Also known as "dirt spiders." And it was the name sometimes attributed to a group of disgraced warriors who had established themselves as a renegade clan.
"So that truly is their clan name?" she said. "I thought it was merely a derogatory term. I'm sorry, that sounds rude."
Ronan gave her a twist of a smi
le and leaned over. "To be honest, I expected as much. My family denied it, but I had a feeling it would be a little coincidental to be from a disgraced family that was not connected to a disgraced clan. It was also longer ago than I was told. At least seven generations."
"And that did not help? That you are so far removed from the renegades? The blood so diluted? Or did that make it worse--the dilution of warrior blood?"
He shrugged, and they walked a little farther.
"All right," she said. "So is it merchant? Is that what you'll be?"
He nodded.
"I know you hoped for better, but I'm merchant caste."
"You're a Seeker. You are above caste."
"I still consider myself--"
He kissed her nose. "I know. Thank you. I would be honored to be merchant caste. And I will be." He nodded sharply, leaning to kiss her lips now and take her hand. "I'll be a merchant and I'll be proud of it and I'll never regret . . ." He straightened. "I'll never wish for more."
"What would you regret?" She caught a glimpse of his expression. "There's more, isn't there?"
Ronan started to walk again, tugging her along, but she yanked him back, her hand wrapping tight around his.
"What else was there?" she asked.
When he didn't answer, she said, "Ronan? I will find out. I have only to ask Tyrus--"
"I can be warrior caste."
"What? No, there's more, isn't there? Some test?"
He shook his head. "It's mine if I want it. I just . . ." He took a deep breath. "If I am to be raised to warrior caste, I must devote myself to the service of the emperor."
"You must join the army," she said. "Perform your term of service there, as a lower-born warrior."
He didn't answer.
"Not a term of service," she said. "Permanently."
"The emperor recognizes my past service, and he has decreed that I have earned my caste . . . if I continue that service. Specifically to Prince Tyrus. As part of his personal guard. In whatever capacity Tyrus sees fit."
"All right," Ashyn said slowly. "I'm sure you'd like more autonomy in your future, but warriors do serve. And to serve Tyrus . . . ? Would that be such a bad thing?"
"Not at all. He would naturally be my choice. I've been doing it already. Voluntarily and gladly. As for service in general?" He shrugged. "I understand the limitations that come with warrior caste for the lower-born, and I certainly did not expect to be excused from them."
"Then why would you ever consider rejecting his offer and becoming a merchant?"
"I'm seventeen summers of age, Ash. If I am to serve Tyrus, I cannot be a half-trained boy. I am expected to do as other young warriors would, when they came of age. I'm to serve a warlord for one round of seasons. Then I am to serve at an outpost for another. Possibly two if I require additional training." He looked over at her. "I need to leave for as many as three summers, Ash."
"Leave your siblings? Surely the emperor understands that you did all of this for them, and he cannot expect--"
"They would come with me. My first term would be with Goro Okami, who has agreed to take us all, to begin training my brother and to offer Jorn an apprenticeship when he is old enough."
"You are being offered apprenticeship under Lord Okami, who apprenticed Tyrus himself. Goro Okami, whom you know and respect. He'll take you and your siblings, and he'll train your brother, too. And you plan to refuse? Are you mad, Ronan?"