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    James K
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

An Awkward Revolutionary - 6. Chapter VI

Aleksander and Daniil were walking in the garden and Daniil was explaining the romanticism in his art, how this fitted with being a free thinker and the subject of his sketches.

"You see," he waved an arm, "nothing fits more perfectly with nature than the lean body of youth."

"Is it the nature or the youth which attracts?" Alexander asked.

"Both," he replied, without hesitation. "For example a nude study indoors would not fit at all with nature, would it? Just look at the classics."

When they neared the arbour, they came across Milan, sitting with Natasha and the baby. Daniil stopped and Aleksander nodded and smiled.

"Who was that with Milan?" Daniil asked, after they had walked past.

"That is Natasha and my little brother Matvey."

"Ah! Your father picked a very pretty girl. I should like to meet her." He turned back.

"Daniil, wait." Aleksander went after him.

"Good day," Daniil said, standing in front of the arbour. "Allow me to introduce myself, Daniil Vinogradov, friend and companion to Aleksander Nikolaev."

Aleksander was now there, standing beside him.

"Milan, I have already made the acquaintance of," Daniil nodded to Milan, "but you madame and your charming infant, I have not yet had the pleasure to meet."

Natasha stood up and looked at him. "Natasha Sokoloa," she said seriously, "friend and companion to Novel Vanya Nikolaev." She gave a little grin. "I already know who you are, sir. It is our pleasure also to make your acquaintance. However, if you will excuse me, I may not linger too long outside with the child, despite the sunshine, the air is cold."

Daniil watched her walk off, then turned to Milan. "How are you doing young fellow?"

"Well, sir, thank you," Milan smiled.

"I am very pleased to come across you. I wonder if I might not be able to prevail upon you to assist in a project I have in mind."

Aleksander wondered what this was, and no doubt so did Milan.

"Let me explain. I wish to sketch a tableau, and perhaps an eventual painting. The subject is of three friends relaxing in the sunshine." Daniil looked up at the sky. "We have the sunshine, but it is a rather cold winter sun. We would move indoors, to be comfortable."

"I would be pleased to assist you, sir. What would I have to do?"

"No more than keep a pose for a half an hour or so. The only necessary thing is you keep still. Simple," he smiled.

And so it was arranged, they left Milan to go about his duties and returned to the house.

"What is this sketch of three friends you have planned?" Aleksander asked.

"Only a simple sketch, but perhaps later a painting. I will use the two stable lads and it should be perfect."

Aleksander raised a eyebrow, "This would be another of your romantic natural studies?"

Daniil smiled and nodded. "I'm lucky to have found such a wealth of models here. Perhaps Natasha could be included?"
"I'm not sure my father would like that."

"Why ever not, she is not at all embarrassed about her situation, so why would your father be?"

"It's not her situation we are discussing," Aleksander gave him a stern look.

"And if we were, what of it?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

Now Daniil had made him think about the situation at Ryavda, how it presented itself. He wondered what word one might use, extraordinary, different certainly. Still it caused him no problems, he liked Natasha.

They walked a little in silence.

"The farm," Daniil began, "I've seen the whole set up and it's not up to much. The livestock is in poor condition, the buildings have not been paid much attention to, and the manager, I haven't decided if he's simply a useless fellow or a rogue."

"You are certainly being forthright today, Daniil Vinogradov."

"Well, you know it needs control and good management to prosper an estate like this. I know, because my own father has a similar set up."

"I presume your own property works much better?"

"That I cannot say, but it would seem to be better maintained."


The next day the clear sky and bright sunshine continued. Aleksander took his morning stroll and found Daniil by the stables.

"Were you looking for the stable lads?" he smiled, a genuine smile.

Aleksander was in good spirits, the crisp air and warm sun lifted his mood, and he cared not too much about Daniil's adventures. Because he was certain there was more to Daniil's relations with the workers than simple artistic pursuit.

"It's all arranged for Sunday. We had an interesting conversation." Daniil walked next to him.

"Since when did you become inclined to hold conversations with our labourers about anything more than..." Aleksander chuckled, "excuse me, but Daniil." He stopped and looked directly at his friend. "Shall we be honest?"

"Yes, let's," Daniil smiled back. "How do you feel?"

They walked on through the farm yard and out towards the fields covered in a light coating of morning dew sparkling in the sunshine like a blanket of crystals.

"I believe we are cut from the same cloth," Aleksander replied. "I am, however, a complete innocent."

Daniil raised an eyebrow. "Not quite so innocent."

"Well, what do you plan?"

"I have several plans, Aleksander. I wonder how you will find them."

Aleksander stopped walking and gazed across the field in front of them.

"You know your uncle rather dislikes me," Daniil said.

"I'm not certain that is true. He can be a little brusque."

"Feliks Vanya is an old dandy. If I did not know him better, I might take him to be like you and I. But I have seen how he looks at Natasha."

"I'm not sure I follow you." Aleksander began to play through his mind the relations between his uncle and his father's companion. He could neither confirm nor deny to himself what Daniil was intimating.

Daniil turned and started to walk back towards the house. Aleksander hesitated a moment before catching him up.

"You believe my uncle has sentiments for Natasha?"

"Sentiments? I don't know. Let's say he looks at her like you and I regard those stable lads."

Aleksander blushed, feeling the heat in his cheeks. "I..." he stuttered, "never..."

"Oh don't look so worried. It is only I, your friend."

"Yes, but... should my father ever know any of this, I do not know how he would react."

"I think he would be more aggrieved by Feliks than your playing around. But that is only my guess. I know my own father cares little about my meanderings."

They walked back the rest of the way to the house in silence.


Novel Vanya was frightened of Daniil and the influence he held over his son. He suspected what sort of person Daniil was, it was nothing to do with his art studies, but his use of the farm labourers and even his own valet. Milan had revealed the not too well kept secret. Of course, he could only wonder about Aleksander. He held hope that things had not gone too far and he determined he would speak with his son. Daniil had enamoured himself with the servants, he had even won over Dmitri. Milan was a conceited and stupid young man who would do whatever Daniil asked. The farm boys ran after the maestro like puppies. Only Kliment didn't like him and referred to him as degenerate, but he was biased in his opinion by Feliks Vanya.

The day Daniil had arranged for his project had arrived and the the two farm lads, plus Milan stood awaiting instructions. It was snowing outside, but a large fire had been lit in the small salon which had become the cosy venue for the painting. Daniil had decided it would be a painting, however, this morning was dedicated to the sketching of the subjects. Reluctantly Aleksander had agreed to take the place of the fourth figure.

"Let me explain," Daniil said. "Three men are wrestling under the watchful eye of the other gentleman who is a spectator. Or possibly the sponsor, we are not sure."

He told the two farm boys to strip naked and handed Milan a loin cloth to cover himself. Aleksander was to be dressed as befits a gentleman, he was the only one to remain as he was, apart from the artist. Daniil placed the two lads in position, one had a hold on the other, an arm around the shoulders trying to force him to the ground. Milan, resplendent in his loin cloth was behind the two wrestlers, encouraging and instructing, bent forward his head level with the other two. It was as if the three were in a kind of secret conspiracy. Aleksander was seated on cushions Daniil had arranged on a table. His intention was to add in the background which would have Aleksander, the gentleman, leaning back on a hillock, looking down on the event.

"It is important no one moves and you remember your positions. We will break after a quarter hour."

Daniil walked to his easel, in the middle of the room, and started rapidly applying pencil to paper. It was much more difficult than Aleksander had imagined. Keeping still became an irritation and the initial interest in the two lads wrestling rapidly lost any appeal. His mind wandered to thinking it would be far more entertaining were the scene brought to life as a real match. Once or twice Daniil had to tell him to sit still and stop fidgeting about. For the model who ostensibly had the easier pose, he was the worst at holding his position.

"Well, it's the first time I have done such a thing," Aleksander told Daniil afterwards when they were alone.

Daniil laughed. "Yes, I could see."

Aleksander frowned.

"Don't get all vexed. They are nice lads, don't you think?" Daniil stood by the fire watching his friend.

"I have not considered it, but I would have to agree I suppose."

"You are so furtive." Daniil smiled broadly. "You would have me believe no licentious thoughts entered your mind."

They fell silent. Aleksander was not at ease discussing whatever feelings he had, not even with his close friend.

"You know I have interests in these labourers which is more noble than you might give credit for." Daniil moved to sit on one of the chairs which had been moved into the corner of the room.

"I know your politics, if that is what you refer to?" Aleksander took a chair and joined his friend.

"One must be careful talking of such matters. I have some friends of a like mind with whom you would find you fit well."

At this moment Novel Vanya was passing along the corridor when he heard their voices. Curious, he paused at the slightly open door. He was about to cough, to make his presence known, when suddenly he stopped.

"They are not all the revolutionaries you might think," Daniil said.

"Of that I know nothing, but I know my father would not appreciate you putting such ideas in the minds of his farm workers."

"It is not only ideas I would give them, but action."

"Ah yes, but what kind of action and would it be appreciated? Besides is not your romantic artistic nature at odds with such politics?"

"No, I think not. One rewards for services the one and one encourages for the better the other."

Aleksander was not certain he wanted this conversation, neither the lascivious, nor the political.

Novel Vanya crept silently away, having heard enough to convince him that his son's companion was not the person he ought to be close with.

It was in his study where Novel Vanya found his brother.

"I am fearful of the influence Daniil has over Aleksander," he said, as he stood looking at Feliks. "I had hoped we would become close the one with the other, but I am of the opinion that my son has changed and a distance is growing between us. I find this painful, being excluded, because my ideas are not those of today."

"Not those of Daniil Vinogradov you mean," Feliks said. "Whatever ideas he has are founded by his association with this man. I can't say I like him and I think we would be better off without his artistic impressions."

"Daniil is a clever man and from a respectable family."

"Being of good family does not necessarily make one virtuous. I rather believe he has certain predilections which he engages the staff with."

"Yes, there you are correct, and I have not yet spoken to Aleksander. However, I do not consider myself behind the times, I do everything to keep in step. Our workers are settled and the farm is set up, I am known all over the province as a liberal."

"A liberal you may be, brother, but there is a line to be drawn. One may rally one's fancies discretely, but one should not corrupt or promote radical ideas. Such action leads to discontent and dishonour."

"As I passed the small salon I heard the two talking and the subject was of romanticism and revolution."

"Revolution! Really?" Feliks was visibly annoyed. "The man goes too far."

"Perhaps I am stupid and it is all nonsense."

Feliks frowned. "I don't believe that for one minute."

"I had a letter from Viktor Frolov," Novel said, completely changing the subject. "He has become a rather prominent person and appointed as Privy Councillor. He's making a tour of the province and we are invited to visit him, both of us, and Aleksander."

"Will you go?" Feliks asked.

"No, I don't think so. And you?"

"I am not of a mind to traipse all the way into town to see Viktor Frolov and have him show off. I'm sure he gets enough flattery without needing more. Besides, what's so great about being a Privy Councillor? I could have bettered that had I continued my career."

"Very well, no one will go. I'll write with some excuse."

"I can see myself having a confrontation with that young man sometime soon," Feliks said.

"Meaning, Diniil Vinogradov, not Viktor?"

"Of course, brother; the romantic, artistic, revolutionary, deviant."


The clash happened that same evening, in the drawing room, over tea. Feliks was waiting for the opportunity to put Daniil in his place. He was fed up and irritated with the young man's views and his lifestyle. When Daniil happened to comment on a local land owner whose name came up whilst discussing farming, he stormed in.

"You say the man is a useless, do nothing, aristocrat, who profits from his inherited estate. Do I take from that, you regard all aristocrats as useless, lazy, profiteers?"

"Yes, sir, you are quite right, I do," said Daniil Vinogradov. "These people have no regard for anyone other than themselves, preserving their position, and dismissing the labourers whose work they rely on, as nobodies."

"And you don't do exactly the same?" Feliks was almost exploding and his voice had become a deep booming thunder.

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning?"

"You with your free living, debauchery, and modern ideas. Do you not use our labourers for your own self-gratification? And instill ideas which would see us all in turmoil?"

By this point the argument had taken on the proportions of a terrible face to face battle. Aleksander who had been witness to all this wanted both men to stop. His uncle had certain ideas which were not out of keeping with his generation. Daniil had different notions, perhaps more modern. Still it would be better if they both retreated and no one won or lost. It was Novel Vanya who stepped in to throw water on the fire.

"You must both agree to disagree. I am sure we do not want to take issue with our guest." He looked at his brother, ignoring Daniil. "Neither, I expect, would any guest wish to insult his host. Let's retire brother and leave the young men to their dreams and imaginations. We were that age at one time."

Novel Vanya gentle ushered his brother from the room. As they left he asked him if he would like to share a drink with him. Feliks did not reply, but accompanied his brother to Novel's study. They sat down, each in one of the dark green leather chairs. Novel poured two glasses of vodka and handed one to his brother.

"You know that man is going to lead Aleksander into all sorts of mischief?" Feliks drank his vodka in one go, throwing his head back. "He'll mix the boy up in his revolutionary ideas and God knows what else he has going on."

"It has me worried, but I am loathe to confront them. I am not sure I know how to broach such matters with Aleksander."

"He is too susceptible to influences. I believe like all youths of his age he is seeking his path through life, but with companions like Daniil he could end up suffering."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do. If you would like I will have a talk with him."

"Yes, by all means. And let me know the outcome, before I speak with him myself."


Aleksander was still in the drawing room with Daniil, who had fetched his pipe and was blowing little clouds of smoke into the air.

"You should try to avoid confronting my uncle, we should try not crossing his path," Aleksander said.

"I think perhaps to put some distance between us would be fine. I shall visit my father and stop off on the way to greet Yefrem Kiselev."

"Yefrem Kiselev?" Aleksander repeated.

"Yes, he is an old friend and mentor. You will adore him and it will be..." Daniil searched for the right word, "educational."

"You wish me to accompany you?" Aleksander was caught a little by surprise. It would be fine in any other circumstances, but to leave his father after such a heated debate and disappear, he could not. "I shall talk with my father first and see."

The door opened and Natasha appeared, poking her head into the room. "Would you like more tea?" She had not been brave enough to enter the room before, when their loud voices could be heard all through the house.

"No thank you," Aleksander replied. "I believe we have all had enough for tonight."

Copyright © 2021 James K; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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The crux of an age old conundrum betwixt fathers/uncles and sons...

"Yes, sir, you are quite right, I do," said Daniil Vinogradov. "These people have no regard for anyone other than themselves, preserving their position, and dismissing the labourers whose work they rely on, as nobodies."

"And you don't do exactly the same?" Feliks was almost exploding and his voice had become a deep booming thunder.

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning?"

"You with your free living, debauchery, and modern ideas. Do you not use our labourers for your own self-gratification? And instill ideas which would see us all in turmoil?"

Edited by drsawzall
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