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

Chapter Ten

Normally, people with a temperament like Bailey's would be, by consensus, considered to be one of the violent sort. Bailey never thought herself one, not until she arrived in Ancient Egypt that was.

Her entire world was turned upside down, inside out and she was expected to follow every single rule and regulation that was given to her. She had very much the mind to defy every single one of them, especially if they were all going to be such sticks in the mud about it.

She was the sort that being chastised about something, no matter how small, without being told what she was doing wrong caused her to get angry and usually when she got angry she tended to hit people. Hard. Her mother had always reminded her that sometimes violence wasn't the answer. But given her current situation she thought that maybe her mother would forgive her if she became violent. Just this once.

As she sat on the floor of the balcony, leaning back against the wall, images of her family and friends flashed before her mind. Each one was as if she were looking at a photo album. Tears spilled down her face as she thought of her friends. Were they pulled into Ancient Egypt as well? If so, were they alright? Were they hurt or were they somewhere safe? She wondered if she would ever see them again.

Bailey had half the mind to try and escape the palace again, even though the King's threat rang in her ears. Would he really go through with it? What she recalled from her history books told her yes. Personally, she had absolutely no idea. He had shown some leniency with her, perhaps his threat had been empty words.

Would it be a good idea if she tried?

Probably not. It was as if she was stuck between a rock, a hard place, and knee deep in super glue.

Bailey gritted her teeth as an insatiable surge of helpless frustration overtook her. Unshed tears blurred her vision and she cried out with pent up anger as she punched the stone floor.

Pain shot up through her knuckles and into her wrist and, for a moment, all the frustration and anger she felt for her situation ebbed away as she berated herself for her childishness.

"You are quite troublesome by yourself, are you not?" Bes' amused voice rang through her thoughts, momentarily distracting her from the pain in her hand. The expression he wore fell immediately upon seeing her state. He walked over to her, carefully taking her hand, examining it. He looked at her face. "What happened?"

"I was angry and punched the floor. What's it to you?" She snapped angrily, taking her arm away from him as she cradled it closely to her chest.

"Woman, you need to learn how to speak to those that could order your ultimate demise if they so choose." Bes growled out between clenched teeth. "What made you so upset that you felt the need to punch the floor?"

"This." She gestured around her. "This entire fucking situation I'm in. I want to go home. I'm just... I'm scared."

Once again tears formed and began falling down her face. God, how she wished her mother was there. She just wanted to be held and comforted. She just wanted her mother. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, no longer caring that he was there as her entire body shook from both the pain and her own self-pity. It was silly, wanting her mother like a lost, little child. "I want my mother and I know damned well that even if I did find a way home, she would not be there."

"Why do you say that?"

"She died a couple years ago," she answered in a small voice.

Bes, with a small amount of hesitance, placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder. It was apparently all that she needed as she shot for him, burying her face into his shoulder and allowed herself to let it all go. All the emotions she had buried for a long time poured out of her.