Journey in Time (Knights in Time) by Chris Karlsen

in England? Shakira knew of its origins in Greek mythology, but not anywhere else. Shortly into the ride, the answer loomed before her as a large Norman castle of Cotswold stone appeared. A crenellated curtain wall twenty-feet high and lined with evenly spaced arrow loop windows surrounded the structure. Towers stood at the gated entrance and armed men patrolled the palisades. One shouted from a corner flanking tower announcing their approach.
    Alex dropped back to her side. “Remember, not a word.”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.”
    “Give me your watch.”
    “Why?” It was her favorite Movado, part of their Museum Collection.
    “Just do it.”
    She unfastened her watch and handed it to him. He slipped his off and put both in the pocket of his breeches. At the edge of the moat, he took her reins and led Eclipse over a wooden drawbridge. They crossed through a raised portcullis and into a vaulted passage on into the castle’s bailey.
    This had to be a movie set she assumed as they entered. She was familiar with the landmark buildings in the area. A fortress this size she’d have heard of or at least seen pictures of in books.
    She scrutinized everything they passed for sound or camera hookups. Meutrieres were cut into the stone on each side of the archway they entered. The "murder holes" allowed the castle's defenders to pour all manner of materials, from boiling oil to sewage, onto attackers. The stonework throughout the passage looked aged and the details accurate. The set designers did an excellent job.
    A three-story cylindrical Keep, like the Round Tower at Windsor, dominated the bailey. A wide stone staircase led up to massive oak doors on the second level. On the first level, broad barn style doors with iron locks stood on each side of the stairs. Typical features for a Norman castle. The production company must’ve spent a fortune on the construction, unless it was a facade. She’d yet to see technical equipment anywhere.
    Their arrival stirred a flurry of activity and drew a group of men who also addressed Alex as Sir Guy. He dismounted and handed his horse to a young man who’d jogged up. Alex laid Eclipse’s reins over the horse’s neck and then gave Shakira’s hand a light pat, "Stay here."
    She had a million questions she didn’t get the chance to ask before he rejoined the men they rode in with.  
    While he chatted with the others, she viewed the area with an eye out for reflection from the lens of a hidden camera. Everyone dressed in medieval fashion. They spoke in the same archaic way the knights did, using language straight out of Canterbury Tales.
    A few of the people who came to greet Alex stayed gathered around. The acrid smell of sweat and animal urine burned her nostrils. The people standing near Eclipse reeked of body odor. The knights hadn’t stunk and she’d been downwind of them. Her eyes watered as the odor wafted up and she resorted to breathing through her mouth. Whether the people were students or actors, stinking like they did took realism way too far.
    In front of a three-sided booth, a stout, muscular man with a bushy salt-and-pepper beard hunched over a horse’s hoof he held between his legs. Smoke rose as he fitted a hot shoe to a mare. After a few seconds, he dropped the mare’s foot and set the shoe on an anvil, where he began to hammer and shape the metal. When he finished, the blacksmith dipped the glowing iron into a bucket of water. After the steam and sizzle subsided, he fit the shoe against the mare’s hoof again.
    A half-dozen similar structures lined the same wall. The stalls were reminiscent of carnival booths. Their work spaces were enveloped on three sides by heavy canvas flaps or in this case flimsy looking wood boards. Two men in the work areas next to the smithy huddled over something she couldn’t see. On the opposite side of the bailey, school-age boys tended to horses and animals by a stable and pens.
    She mulled over the possibility this wasn’t a