An Awkward Revolutionary - 1. Chapter I

It was a battle I never wanted to fight and one which you would always lose. I do not blame you for the conflict, that responsibility rests with Daniil. I forgive you for everything, just as I forgive Daniil. There is no joy in a victory which is no victory at all, only inevitable, even if you did not recognise what the outcome would be, because no doubt you thought me too weak. I can tell you now, now you are no longer here to hear it, it was not strength, but love, and love conquers all - Aleksander Nikolaev, Ryavda - 26 March 1863.

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"Milan, do you see them yet?" The middle-aged gentleman was dressed in a long coat with the collar turned up and sporting a ushanka. He stamped his feet and paced back and forth, the wind was bitterly cold. His name was Novel Vanya Nikolaev, he was almost forty-one years old. He was waiting, accompanied by his manservant, for the carriage which was carrying his son.

"Can't you see them?" Novel repeated with a certain impatience.

"No, nothing yet," Milan replied, looking at the empty road, the ground frozen hard with the cold.

Novel Vanya Nikolaev sighed and sat down on the bench, wrapping the long coat around his legs. His thoughts were occupied with his son, whom he had not seen in over six months, and returning home to a warm fire. Even used to the cold as he was, he still loathed being outside with nothing more to do than wait. His son, Aleksander was a child of love, a great love he had shared for as long as God had ordained with his beloved Irina. Novel was the son of an army Major and had always been destined for a life in the army, but destiny had not deemed it so. Injured within a few weeks of starting his field training and hospitalised with a broken leg, he spent a long time on his back in bed. He never fully recovered and walked with a limp for the rest of his life. Having some influence his father had found him a position in the civil service, but it was not to Novel's liking. In the end he left Saint Petersburg and went to live on the small estate his father owned in the countryside some two hundred kilometres away. Irina, who he had met in the capital came with him, they married, and soon after she gave birth to their son Aleksander, so named after Irina's grandfather. Novel had spent the next seventeen years accompanied by his son, managing the estate. His wife had died when Aleksander was ten years old, and he had become inseparable from the boy until very reluctantly he agreed he should go to the university.

Novel Vanya Nikolaev had paid frequent visits to his son at the university in Saint Petersburg, even considering taking a small apartment there. He had met all his son's young friends, but he was of a different generation and he did not like the city life. Eventually he was so obliged as to leave his son and return to the estate, finally realising that Aleksander was becoming a man and required his freedom, he left him alone. But now it had been six months since he last saw Aleksander and he was returning home, with a companion, and Novel was anxious to see his son again.

Novel stood up from the bench and once again started pacing up and down. "What do you see now, Milan?" he asked.

"Nothing, but I'll walk down to the bend and see what I can see." Milan said this to both appease his master and to allow himself to take his pipe from his pocket and light it.

The clouds raced across the sky blown by the freezing wind, Novel knew the signs, he could almost feel a snow storm brewing. 'I hope they're here before the snow,' he mused, and gazed up at the darkening sky. There was the smell of baking rye bread wafting on the wind from the inn, it made him think perhaps they should eat before returning to the estate, he would ask Aleksander. Aleksander, his son, returning home, and with a degree, he felt a sense of pride.

He heard the carriage and horses before it came into view and before Milan announced, "I can see it now, sir."

Novel watched the carriage led by the team of horses draw close and come to a rest outside the inn. He caught sight of a student's cap and the familiar figure of his beloved son as he climbed out, followed by another, taller, young man.

"Aleksander! Aleksander!" He shouted, and ran to greet his son.

He wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him to himself, kissing his cheeks.

"Papa, let me breathe!" Aleksander's face broke into a huge grin.

Novel stepped back. "Let me get a good look at you," he said, claping his hands on Alexander's sides. Then he turned to Milan, "Fetch the horses!"

Novel Vanya seemed much more tense than his son, excited and rather highly strung. Aleksander reached out an arm and squeezed his father's shoulder.

"Papa," he said softly, "Let me introduce my good friend Daniil, the companion of whom I wrote you and invited to stay with us."

His father immediately turned around and went towards the other young man who had descended from the carriage. He held out his arms and took Daniil's hand in both of his. "Welcome, welcome to Ryavda."

They moved together to join Aleksander. Daniil he noted was taller than his son and looked older, maybe by as much as two years, he thought. But Daniil had a close, thin beard, which probably had the effect of adding age to his appearance.

"I'm delighted to have you stay with us," Aleksander's father continued. "May I ask your father's name?"

"Yuriy Vinogradov," Daniil replied, looking directly at him.

Novel Vanya noted the deep green eyes, gentle smile, and confident voice. "I hope you will not be too bored out here in the country," he said.

Daniil moved his lips a little in a thin smile, but made no reply.

"So, Aleksander," Novel turned to his son, "shall we harness the horses and go home, or would your preference be to rest and perhaps have supper at the inn here?"

"We can rest at home, Papa. Tell them to harness the horses. Let's finish our journey and go home."

"Hey, Milan, did you hear that? Get going lad, we're heading home."

In a few minutes the horses were harnessed and Milan brought the little carriage around to the front of the inn.

"I'm sorry," Novel Vanya said to Aleksander and Daniil, "but the carriage has room for two only."

"Daniil does not stand on ceremony father, he is an easy fellow," he glanced at Daniil. "He'll go up on the box with Milan."

Daniil climbed up front and Aleksander and Novel got into the carriage. Milan picked up the reins, released the break, "Walk on!" he said, and they were on their way.