I own nothing that you recognise. Most belongs to Tamora Pierce. This is set after Trickster's Queen. Enjoy, but please review.

Chapter 1: A Picnic

King Maggur was troubled. Although he had just lost a significant battle against King Jonathon of Tortall, that was not the problem here. His daughter, Sara, was now seventeen. She had blossomed into a mirror image of her mother; tall, with beautiful blue eyes and long, straight, strawberry blonde hair. The boys of the court had also come to a similar conclusion; she was gorgeous. They were constantly flirting with her; King Maggur was seriously considering either sending all these flattering young men from court or sending his daughter away. Now, which one could he actually get away with?

The object of his worries glided into her father's office. Sara was well aware of how her father felt, and to be honest, she wasn't that keen on insincere compliments or on these self-obsessed little boys either. They couldn't find anything other than the weather to talk about and their poetry was vile.

"Father," Sara felt embarrassed about grumbling, but it had been going on for weeks now. "Do I have to be followed by seven guards wherever I go? It's tiresome, I have no privacy and I hate it!" This last was screamed as her father sat up straighter.

"You are forever complaining, child. As a princess of Scanra, you must conduct yourself with dignity. At seventeen, you are a representative of not just myself but of our entire family and our nation. Behave accordingly."

Although she had been summarily dismissed, Sara had come in here to ask something specific of her father. Despite what he may think, she was well aware that she was no child to be coddled any more. Taking a deep breath, she changed her tone and calmly said, "Father, could I go on a picnic tomorrow? If possible, I'd like to go alone."

"Alone?"

"I am seventeen. It will just be for an afternoon. You know that you'll have me followed. I'll be safe enough."

King Maggur was not heartless. He knew that Sara understood the need for these restrictions. And as she said, one afternoon won't hurt. "Certainly. Your guards will follow at a discreet distance and they won't trouble you unless it is absolutely necessary. And don't try to escape them. It will save me added worry."

The next day dawned bright and sunny, a pleasant day for a picnic. Finding a spot in the dappled shade, a couple of metres from the forest, which marked the palace's boundary, Sara opened the hamper. A selection of goodies awaited her.

Three men strolled out of the woods; they were menacing, fierce and frightening. Unfortunately, Sara's guards had little respect for their charge. Therefore, they had taken the opportunity to take the afternoon off, deciding to not follow her at all. There was no one to help her now.

Clapping a hand over her mouth, the leader of this band dragged Sara into the wood, out of sight. In no time at all, Sara found herself chained to a long line of men and women; caught at the mercy of slavers, Sara prayed that her guards would have realised she was in trouble.

Walking as the slavers directed, Sara prayed to Mithros and the Goddess that somehow she would get through this and that her father would be able to help her.

I don't know if this counts as a cliffie - sorry if it does.