I'm so excited!

My first World Walker post is up. Check it out!

To add:

The Ship's Boy

Sir Frederick found 28 men aboard his ship the first day. The second day, searching for the supply records that his men had hid (lest he find out how much they'd spent on whisky) he discovered a boy. The boy was the ship's boy. Many ships had them, boys who were either ragamuffins come off the streets or who were related to a crew member. They mended ropes and washed dishes and scrubbed floors and in general did whatever the sailors needed. They served the captain, as well, if he wanted a servant.
In the month and a half between the time the crew was commissioned and the time Sir Frederick arrived, the men had sat idly aboard the ship during the day, and went not-so-idly off into the city when night fell. It was one of these nights, returning home from a pub, that a few of them encountered the ship's boy. He came running towards them. It was dark, and they were drunk, and the boy narrowly missed Ponsby as he shot past them. A moment later a man emerged from the doorway in front of them and glared into the night. "You lot! Didja see a boy run that way?"
They slurred and mumbled and giggled a general affirmation. "I'll tan the bloody twit. Where the hell did he go?" They had no idea. The man pushed through the rabble and disapeared down the empty alleyway. The sailors started forward again. Suddenly a small voice adjacent to Ponsby's elbow inquired, "Are you sailors?" "Eh? How did you get here? I saw you run off!" "The doorway. Are you sailors?"
"No, soldiers," Ponsby said and they all laughed. They were sailors.
"Can I join you?"
"And do what?"
"Whatever you do."
They laughed madly. "I can drink. I once had a pint of ale." Raucous laughter. But they were too drunk, or perhaps they found him too funny, to swat him away. And he certainly wasn't leaving the cover of their company. The next morning they found him getting water to boil and decided that he would be a useful blighter to have around, and so he stayed.
When Sir Frederick came everything changed. The men had to work, scrubbing the whole place and checking for leaks and going to bed at funny hours in preperation for shifts once they went to sea.
Sir Frederick discovered the ship's boy sleeping in beetween two barrels in the store room.
He simply looked at the bruises on the boy's shin and asked him his name. Kit, the boy told him, though his mother had called him Christopher.
From then on the boy slept in Sir Frederick's room. He was given a bath, new clothes, and (this was the biggest change of all) a bedtime. He had to work--no mistake. He got calluses from the ropes and once he burned himself making supper. But the bruises went away and did not return, and Sir Frederick told him he was a good worker. He felt proud for the first time in his young life.

The Closed Room and the Mysterious Door

The Earl had picked one of his least favorite mourning suits, one he had rarely worn, but even so his heart pounded a little as he put it on. He was not sure what he was afraid of, but he rather thought he was afraid that the pain he had felt when he wore it last would come rushing back to him. There was no such flood, to his relief. He could feel the empty place inside him where the flood would have gone, and it was--tentatively--simply empty.
He nearly jumped when the door opened.
"Father?"
"Ah--Charlie. Knock next time, pup. Where's your nurse?"
"Helping Maddie pour out the bathwater."
The Earl loved to take long baths, and he could well imagine it took two to lug the tub up to the window.
"Are you--going to church?" Charlie skipped past his father to the other end of the room.

"Yes, for a funeral. Matty's Aunt. Do you remember her?"
"Yes. But is she really dead?" Charle was smiling as though the words had no meaning.
"Of course she!--unfortunately. Come here, Charlie."
Charlie came obediently, but he was secretly disappointed. He was rarely allowed in this room, which was usually locked. It was not his father's bedroom, but for some reason it had some of his father's clothes in it. The most fascinating part was the door at the other wall. Charlie suspected it was locked, too, but he would have liked a chance to look. Instead he stood in front of his father.
"Now listen up. I'm going away for a little while, and I want you to behave yourself."
Charles was confused. He did not usually get a lecture like this when his father went into the town.
"My Friend Edward wrote me a letter recently, and it reminded me that I have been skimping on your education, young man. I'm going to visit him, and with any luck I will come back with a tutor for you."
So he was going to London again! "A tutor?"
"He'll teach you and watch you during the day."
"Nurse Thale does that."
"Yes, but she doesn't teach you what you are ready to learn. Reading, writing, Latin, French, music, Science..."
None of this sounded appealing to Charles. "What about Nurse Thale?"
"She'll go help Lady Arnold during the day. Lady Arnold will need it, with her new baby coming."
Charles took it all in silently. He was rather sorry he had come in at all. He was even sorrier when his father grinned and and ushered him out into the hall a moment later, for he had missed another chance to look at the mysterious door.