The Book of the Seven Delights by Betina Krahn

until now. "I'm warning you—I'm armed—"
    The soldier advanced on her and in desperation she raised the pistol up and out from her with both hands. He halted immediately, assessing both her and her weapon.
    It was loaded, but she was trying to recall what she had to do to fire it. The soldier sensed her uncertainty and started forward again.
    "Stop, I said! Halt!" She jabbed the gun at him to show she meant business and he stopped again, scowling.
    It had something to do with pulling that lever back. As he decided she wasn't a serious threat, she reached up with both thumbs and pulled the hammer back. It clicked once, then a second time, and the soldier froze. She realized from his reaction and the fact that she couldn't pull back any farther that she must be ready to fire.
    "Back away! I'm warning you—"
    She shifted control of the heavy pistol to her right hand and edged sideways to dislodge the bar from the door with her left. When the bar fell to the floor she glanced down… and everything happened at once.
    The soldier lunged for her, his comrades burst into the kitchen, and her fingers reached the metal door handle. In the space of a heartbeat, she yanked the street door open, braced, and squeezed the trigger.
    The blast from the gun sent the soldier diving to the floor and caused his comrades to lurch for cover.
    Jarred by the violence of the explosion, she whirled and charged out the rear door at a run.
    Outside was a dark and narrow alley—just wide enough for a man on horseback or a small cart to pass.
    Instinctively, she headed for the light coming from one end, sensing it would be a broader street that might offer a means of escape or a place to hide. It was indeed a wider street, with a number of people on foot, donkey carts, and a number of stalls visible down the way.
    Behind her, the soldiers had recovered enough to charge after her and once in the alley, they made the same decision she did. The minute they reached the street, one began shouting orders and they split up to search for her in both directions. She could hear them coming through the pounding of blood in her head and the shouts of the people escaping their path.
    Every door was shut, every stall was too open and visible, there was no place to hide. Her lungs were burning… her legs wouldn't move fast enough…
    At the edge of her vision she glimpsed a horse charging her way, and sensed it was determined to intercept her. She tried to dodge and plowed into a stall filled with hanging scarves and kaftans that clutched at and slowed her. By the time she fought her way free, the horse was on top of her and as she tried to dart away the animal blocked her way and a hand reached for one of her arms and dragged her against the side of the horse.
    "Come on, dammit!" came a command that penetrated the chaos in the marketplace and in her own reeling wits. She looked up into Smith's furious face. "Climb—put your foot in the stirrup!" She managed to help him drag her across his lap—just as the whine of the first bullets reached them. "Hang on!"
    Sprawled across his legs, with the wooden pommel of the saddle pounding into her stomach, she had neither breath nor inclination to question his orders. He spurred the horse and raced through the streets at a breakneck pace. Everything careened past, tilted and disjointed. There were more shots, but the winding streets made sighting impossible and the firing quickly stopped.
    As they rounded yet another corner, she spotted what appeared to be an opening, a huge, stone arch in the city walls. A caravan of heavily laden camels was entering the city, and traders, hawkers, and food vendors were greeting it. The accompanying confusion was their salvation. Smith crouched over her, bending to his horse, and headed for that opening. She instinctively tucked her head and held on for all she was worth.
    As they reached the arch, the shouts of sentries on the ramparts above blended strangely with the call to prayer