"Pox rot him, the festering scut!"
Kel stared at the woman; there weren't many women who were even taller than she was, and even fewer who wore shirts and breeches and carried swords. Even fewer appeared out of thin air.
"I'm surprised he had the sack to spell me at all," the woman muttered. She looked around and caught sight of Kel. "Where am I and what is the date?"
Kel told her, and she laughed.
"The bugnobs calls himself a powerful mage and he couldn't even get me out of Corus." She walked up to Kel and placed her hands on Kel's hips. "I'm afraid I'm a little drunk and got myself into an argument with a mage. I suppose it was a bad idea, really. But you must have a mage somewhere around here who can send a mot a couple of hundred years back in time."
Kel stared at her. "Well, yes, but Master Numair's at least two weeks' ride away at the moment."
"That's fine." The other woman smiled and slid her arms around Kel. "I'm Sabine of Macayhill, lady knight. Perhaps you can help keep me…entertained while I'm here."