“She will tell me,” Vaintè said, grim authority in her gesture.
When they reached the prison chamber they saw that the door was open and could hear the thudding sound of blows, the moans of pain, as they came down the corridor. “Stop,” Vaintè ordered, halting in the doorway, speaking the word with such strength that Stallan halted, her arm still raised, the blood-drenched leash in her hand.
At her feet Kerrick lay twisted in agony, his back raw bloody flesh, beaten half unconscious.
“Tend the creature,” Vaintè ordered and Enge rushed forward. “And you, put that thing down and give me an instant explanation.”
There was such certain death hovering behind her words that even the strong and fearless Stallan quavered before it. The leash fell from her powerless fingers: it took all of her will to force her body to answer. Knowing that Vaintè had but to speak the few words more and she was doomed.
“The creature escaped from me, ran. Very fast. No one could catch it. We followed it to the fields, keeping close behind it. But never close enough. It would have escaped had it not been caught by one of the traps placed around the fields to stop the ustuzou night raiders.”
“That close,” Vaintè said looking down at the small form. “These wild animals have abilities we are not aware of.” Her anger was dying away and Stallan quivered with relief. “But how did it escape?”
“I do not know, Eistaa. Or rather I know what happened but cannot explain it.”
“Try.”
“I shall. It walked beside me, obeying my commands. When we had gone some distance it stopped and raised its hands to the collar of this leash, choking and saying it was being strangled. This was possible. I reached to the collar but before I could touch it the ustuzou ran away. And it was not choking.”
“But it told you it was choking?”
“It did.”
Vaintè’s anger was gone now as she thought hard about what the hunter had said. “Were you not holding the leash?”
“I had released it when I reached for the collar. The beast was choking, it could not escape.”
“Of course. You did the only thing possible. But it was not choking. You are sure of that?”
“Positive. It ran a long way and breathed well. When it was captured the first thing I did was look at the collar. It was just as it had been when I put it on.”
“These things are unexplainable,” Vaintè said, looking down at the unconscious ustuzou. Enge was bent over it, cleaning the blood from its back and chest. Its eyes were discolored and bruised, there was blood upon its face as well. Surprising that it was alive after Stallan’s attention. The inescapable fact was that the collar had not been choking it. But it had said it was being choked. That was impossible. But it had happened.
Then Vaintè stiffened into immobility. It was a thought, an impossible thought, one that would never have occurred to a crude hunter like Stallan. Vaintè controlled the thought, held it at bay for the moment as she spoke rudely and stiffly.
“Leave at once.”
Stallan hurried out immediately, expressing relief and gratitude, knowing that her life was out of danger for the moment, happy to put everything that had happened out of her mind.
But not Vaintè. Enge’s back was still turned so she was able to seize the thought, examine it, and not be concerned about anyone observing her own thinking processes.
It was simply an impossible idea. But it had happened. One of the first things that she had learned in the science of thought was that when all other explanations have been rejected, the remaining explanation, no matter how illogical or apparently false, must be the only explanation.
The ustuzou had said the collar was choking it. The collar was not choking it.
The statement of a fact was not a fact.
The ustuzou had said a fact that was not a fact.
There was no word or expression for this in Yilanè so she must make one up. It was a lie. The ustuzou had lied.