A Flower for the Queen: A Historical Novel by Caroline Vermalle, Ryan von Ruben

up at him with a sun-bleached, wrinkled face across which was stretched a toothless, gummy grin. “Turtle blood, mynheer ? Vir die slange ?” Masson must have looked bewildered because the man tried again, his slippery grin never leaving his face as he held up a small pouch. “In case you get bit, mynheer ? Very cheap!”
    Seeing that Masson still did not understand, the trader made a noise with his tongue against his gums that Masson guessed would have been a hissing sound, had the man still had any teeth. Masson smiled, but shook his head and waved his hand, politely declining the offer to enter into a negotiation for whatever it was that the man had to sell. Sensing a lost cause, the merchant gave up and began haranguing another sailor.
    Masson escaped the cacophony on deck and returned below to gather his things before stopping by Burnette’s cabin in the hope of convincing him to share the cost of a launch to the dock, but the botanist had already cleared out.
    Although he was unsure of how he would be received, Masson sucked up his courage and went to say farewell to Captain Cook. After greeting the marine that stood guard to the Captain’s state room, Masson knocked smartly on the door and entered when he was bid.
    “Ah, Mr Masson,” Cook said as Masson entered the room, “You are to be leaving us. I hope you are feeling fit enough to start your work?” As far as Masson could tell, his concern was genuine, and if Cook held any ill feeling from the business with the monkey, it was well disguised.
    Masson nodded his head in the affirmative as the man with the scar who had come aboard with the Port Captain stepped out of the shadows. “What work might that be, Captain, and is there any way that I can be of help?”
    Cook made the introductions. “Mr Schelling, this is Mr Francis Masson. He has been sent to the Cape by Sir Joseph to collect flowers for the King’s Gardens at Kew. Mr Schelling is a very good man to know here in the Cape, Masson. ”
    The two shook hands and Schelling’s face seemed to light up at the mention of Banks, “Tell me, Mr Masson, are you free this evening?”
    “Well, I was hoping to make a start on my work—”
    “Excellent!” exclaimed Schelling, not waiting for Masson to finish. “No doubt Sir Joseph selected you for your fine work ethic, but even he, I am sure, would not deny you a small amount of relief after what has no doubt been a long and arduous voyage. The Company is having a little party in honour of Captain Cook’s arrival, and although only VOC employees and free burghers of high standing are to be invited, I would be pleased if you could attend as my personal guest.”
    Masson was not sure what to make of the Schelling’s unsolicited generosity, but could see no reason to refuse. “Thank you Mr Schelling, your invitation is much appreciated.”
    “Not at all, Mr Masson, not at all. And if there is anything I can do for you while you are here, just ask. Do you have your lodgings arranged?”
    “Sir Joseph has only given me a modest allowance, but I am sure I will be able to find something. All I require is a place that is clean and quiet so that I may keep my collections and go about my work.”
    Schelling stroked his scar absentmindedly as he looked Masson up and down. “You may find that here in the Cape, even the simple things in life come at a price that is far more than you would expect. It’s the price we pay for living under the protection of the VOC I’m afraid. If it wasn’t for them, who knows what might crawl out of the darkness to devour us? In return, they command a monopoly over everything. Well, almost everything.” Schelling winked knowingly before scribbling an address on a card that he pulled from his waistcoat pocket and then handed it to Masson.
    “If you go to this address and say that I sent you, I am sure you will be made to feel welcome.”
    Masson made to take the card, but Schelling held it firm, “If you aren’t, please be