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The queen faced her grandson. “It’s not exactly the same. A deledan can completely take control of a soul, corrupt it. That is what your uncle did, and it is frowned upon.”

Roark snorted and reached for my hand, as though it had been too long since he touched me.

“You, if you are a soul chainer, can command a soul for a time. It’s dangerous, and in the wrong soul, it could be tempting to make folk do anything you desire.”

Sindri nodded. “My mam said the same thing. Wouldn’t let me do it to Brokk.”

“She was wise to say so,” Elisabet said. “But you can learn to use it when the temptation is not there.” The queen smiled. “With your clan here, you can learn all about soul craft and how the gifts of the gods should be used to better our people. Now, to help, what are you thinking you wish to do?”

“Well, doesn’t he have some piece of a soul inside of him?” Sindri strode to Roark after Elisabet confirmed. “I was thinkin’ maybe I could command the soul to not attack him.”

My heart leapt to my throat. “Do you think you could, Sindri?”

“I could try. Bet he’s a lot stronger than me, but maybe it’ll buy some time along with the lady’s blood spell.”

Yrsa lifted her chin. “It’s nearly finished. Anything might help.”

Let him, Roark gestured. The red of his eyes flashed.

Sindri stretched his fingers.

“I’m gonna touch you, see if I can find it and all.” The boy placed a palm on Roark’s arm. He shuddered. “Gods, it’s right there. I can…I can feel it. You live with this inside you?”

Roark chuckled softly and let his eyes close. Sindri winced, but beneath his finger, Roark’s veins pulsed. Wisps of darkness swirled under Roark’s skin. The boy coughed. A drop of blood trickled from his nose.

“Sindri,” Jordis warned. “Do not harm yourself.”

“Little more,” he gritted out. “He wants out. Doesn’t even know he’s hurting his own self. Doesn’t know how to stop.”

My shoulders slumped. It was brave of the boy to try.

“I’m gonna tell him to be calm,” Sindri said, as another drop of blood fell from his nose. “Might help if he’s not constantly digging at him.”

The veins of Roark’s arms, neck, and face bulged for another breath, then faded, lightening for the first time. Roark’s eyes remained the fierce bloodred, but he slumped in the chair, his muscles less corded than before.

Sindri coughed again and doubled over. He covered his mouth with one palm.

Jordis pulled him back. “That’s all.”

The boy drew in a few sharp breaths, but nodded. “Sorry. I tried.”

“Thank you, Sindri. I think it helped.”

Roark was relaxed in the chair when Yrsa approached. She rolled the crushed herbs and blood inside the mortar over a simple piece of wood. Thane had cut a strip of leather off one of the satchels. The princess tied the wood shard around Roark’s neck and tucked it beneath his tunic.

“Keep this against the skin, Roark,” she said softly. “This is everyone who stands with you, cares whether you live or die. Use us to pull yourself back should you need it.”

He curled his hand around the shard. Thank you. Does this mean you forgive me?

Yrsa shoved his shoulder. “It’s a start.”

Roark’s skin no longer burned, and when he stood, he did not stumble. He went to his mother. What happened to bring the full Watch?

“Scouts told us Myrdan and Jorvan forces are crossing the fjords. They will be here by morning.”

“What?” Thane crossed the tent. “The full Stav?”

Elisabet nodded. “King Hundur has summoned the Shield Riders as well.”