he was down on his knees, still gripping whatever it was that had closed off hisbreath.

A moment later, he was face down in the dry dirt, dead or unconscious.

The man standing over the second attacker was short and broad and also robed andhooded. He put something in his pocket, probably the cord he'd used to strangle,her attacker, and he approached her cautiously. His hands seemed to be empty,however.

'Masha?' he said softly.

By then she'd recovered her wind. She wriggled out from under the dead man,jerked the dagger from the windpipe, and started to get up.

The man said, in a foreign accent, 'You can put your knife away, my dear. Ididn't save you just to kill you.'

'I thank you, stranger,' she said, 'but keep your distance anyway.'

Despite the warning, he took two steps towards her. Then she knew who he was. Noone else in Sanctuary stank so of rancid butter.

'Smhee,' she said, equally softly.

He chuckled. 'I know you can't see my face. So, though it's against my religiousconvictions, I will have to take a bath and quit smearing my body and hair withbutter. I am as silent as a shadow, but what good is that talent when anyone cansmell me a block away?'

Keeping her eyes on him, she stopped and cleaned her dagger on the dead man'srobe.

'Are you the one who's been following me?' she said. She straightened up.

He hissed with surprise, then said, 'You saw me?'

'No. But I knew someone was dogging me.'

'Ah! You have a sixth sense. Or a guilty conscience. Come! Let's get away beforesomeone comes along.'

'I'd like to know who these men are ... were.'

'They're Raggah,' Smhee said. 'There are two others fifty yards from here,lookouts, I suppose. They'll be coming soon to find out why these two haven'tshown up with you.'

That shocked her even more than the attack.