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. He found he could force
his eyelids up with a manageable amount of pain.
"So are you here purely on a mission of vengeance, or are
you a spy, too?" Pitrick allowed that question to linger for a
moment, then cut it off. "That needs no answer - of course
you are. No one but a spy could have penetrated our de-
fenses. Are you a murderer as well?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Flint growled.
"Oh, please." Pitrick sounded mildly amused. "I'm certain
it was you who knifed one of my wagon drivers in Hillhome
just days ago. Or if it wasn't you, you certainly know who it
was." Pitrick bent close to Flint's ear and whispered, "Give
me the murderer's name, and I shall be merciful. I can be,
you know."
"I've seen your mercy," sputtered Flint.
Pitrick struck him across the face again, grinning. "Not
the full extent of it, dear harrn. And isn't it fortunate for me
that whatever tidbits of knowledge you have about our ex-
ports will die with you?"
"You just keep believing that," Flint croaked. "You really
think I kept such knowledge to myself? By now, half of
Hillhome knows that you're exporting weapons, not
plows
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