Page 46 of Throne of Ice and Blood

Galen twists the man’s arm higher up. The guy screams, bending forward where he is kneeling on the floor, and shifts his body to try to relieve the pain that the unnatural angle of his arm is causing.

Averting my eyes, I wince again as another raw cry of agony rips from his throat. The other people in the tavern cower deeper into their chairs while a few of them cast desperate glances towards the door. But the other two soldiers that Draven brought are standing on either side of the door, preventing them all from leaving.

“Who is the Red Hand?” Galen demands again.

“He’s the leader of the resistance,” the man gasps out at last.

Snapping my gaze back to him, I blink in surprise. That’s news to me. I knew that the Red Hand was an important part of the resistance, but I didn’t realize that he was the actual leader.

“We know that,” Galen replies, still keeping the man’s arm bent at an unnatural angle. “But whoishe?”

“I don’t know!”

“Here’s the thing.” He nods towards Draven. “He won’t let me stop until you give us the Red Hand’s name. And I do what he says.” He twists the man’s arm farther back. “So give me what I want.”

Another cry of pain, followed by a whimper, spills from his throat as he trembles on the floor. “Please. I don’t know his name. I don’t know who he is. No one does.”

A sudden realization hits me like a fucking lightning strike.

Iknow who the Red Hand is.

Hector.

Based on the way Kath and the other humans reacted when he walked through the door, he is their leader. And this manjust confirmed that the Red Hand is the leader of the resistance. Which means that Hector is the Red Hand.

Oh by Mabona. Draven is out here torturing people in order to get them to tell him who the Red Hand really is. People who truly don’t know the Red Hand’s identity. If he only knew that the person who sleeps in his bed every night is the one who has the coveted answer to his question.

Determination pulses through me. No matter what happens, I have to take that secret with me to the grave. I have to keep the Red Hand safe so that we can have a shot at toppling the Iceheart Dynasty.

Another scream echoes between the dark wooden walls.

“Please,” the man gasps. “Please, I’m begging you. I’m telling the truth.”

Draven just watches him with merciless eyes for another few seconds. Then he flicks his wrist. Galen immediately releases the man’s arm and takes a step back. Soft whimpering comes from the human as he moves his arm back into its proper place.

After studying him for another moment, Draven slides his gaze over the rest of the tavern.

Clothes rustle and gasps ripple through the room as everyone shrinks back.

But Draven just pushes off from the bar and straightens.

“Move out,” he says to his soldiers, who nod and immediately start towards the door. Draven shifts his gaze to me and jerks his chin. “Selena.”

I flick another glance towards the man, who remains kneeling on the floor, while Draven stalks out the door. Guilt twists my heart. If I had told Draven what I knew, I could have ended this man’s suffering. In fact, I could prevent a lot of suffering for all the humans. But it would only be temporary. The work that the Red Hand and the resistance are doing is too important.

Tearing my gaze from the man on the floor, I start towards the door as well. But I only make it one step before someone grabs my arm. My stomach lurches as the sudden pull on my arm makes me stumble into the table next to me.

“Act like you just tripped,” a woman with short brown hair hisses in my ear. “This whole tavern is full of idealistic idiots, and I don’t want them to know that I gave this to you.” With one hand still on my arm, she uses the other to press a paper into my palm. “Give this to Commander Ryat. This is what the Red Hand looks like.”

My eyes widen in shock, and I flick a glance down at the folded-up piece of paper in my hand before I meet the woman’s gaze again.

Her brown eyes are serious as she holds my gaze. “Tell him that not all humans support the Red Hand. I despise him. His actions only bring trouble for the human communities.”

Before I can figure out how to reply to that, she releases me and pushes me away from the table, as if she’s annoyed that I tripped into her.

“Watch where you’re going,” she snarls, very convincingly, at me.

I quickly stuff the paper into my pocket and then hurry out the door.

---