Sands of Yore **COMPLETE, being re-written**

Chapter Three

Her head pounded, and the pain seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body, nausea and dizziness soon following closely behind. It felt as though she had been hit by a truck.

Groaning, she sat up, taking deep breaths in an attempt to gain control of the pain that spiked at her movements. Her mind was suddenly pulled back away from the pain and to the present as she managed to peer about the room she found herself in.

She didn't recognize the room and, for that matter, when had she even gone to bed?

As soon as the question left her mind, images flashed before her eyes.

Her out in the desert with a man who was speaking to her with a language she had never heard before, followed by him attacking her with a whip, followed by a snake bite and then her being pulled into his lap as he tried to suck the venom out.

Everything after that was a blank to Bailey as she pulled her knees up to her chest, allowing her head to lazily lay on top of her knees, careful not to rub her injured arm. Which she noticed was covered with carefully ripped and tied pieces of cloth.

She shook her head, as she eyed the walls around her. It was night, so the only light that was there was the hand-made torch that hung from a support off the wall, the flames seemed to dance across the stone walls, walls that were engraved by what appeared to be Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphics.

She was damn sure that she was not in a hotel somewhere in Cairo.

Had the man from the desert brought her to his home?

She moaned and shook her head. What the hell was going on? Was she hallucinating or was it all just one screwed up dream? It just all felt surreal.

Carefully laying back onto the mattress Bailey took in the fact that the bed she currently laid on felt soft, as if no coils were in the mattress, almost as though it was filled with feathers. She ran her hands over the sheets and knew that it was silk.

"Wow." She murmured, feeling slightly jealous. Silk sheets, good silk sheets, were incredibly expensive so judging from that, and the ridiculously huge room, whoever owned the place was loaded.

She sighed and she closed her eyes again as exhaustion filled her once more. Just what exactly was going on? Everything was such a blur and so jumbled that she felt like crying. She kept her composure as she heard the door quietly open, her eyes immediately

opened, watching a small, thin girl probably no more than seven years old walking towards the bed, her small feet barely made any sound as they padded across the floor. To Bailey, it looked as though she was oblivious to the fact that she was awake.

That was until she came closer to the bed and saw that Bailey was watching her. She gasped, looking frightened, backing up. Bailey held her hands up, trying to show the girl that she was not going to harm her. However it did not work, as the girl fell to her knees, bowing and saying something in what sounded like the same language the man had spoken to her earlier.

Ignoring the screaming protests from her body, Bailey climbed from the bed and knelt down by the girl, placing both hands on either shoulder. The girl stopped her ranting and timidly looked up towards her, confusion etched on her innocent, young face. Once realizing that no harm was going to come to her she relaxed, if only slightly.

Carefully standing, ignoring the throb of pain in her arm, Bailey fought not to roll her eyes as the girl still stayed frozen to the spot on the floor. Sighing, Bailey gestured for her to stand up.

As the girl did as she was bid, Bailey's mouth fell open in disbelief and disgust, looking at the poor girl's tattered, revealing clothing. Who in their right mind would do such a thing to a child? The sudden urge to strangle someone, preferably the one responsible for the girl's clothing, was nearly overwhelming.