.                                                                                                      Ahkmer
                                                                                                       Chapter I
           


The dawn chorus, sweet with the thrushes’ song, woke Ahkmer from his warm, thick sheepskin wrap.  The first rays of sun crept through the slit in the tents door, slowly warming his white stubbly face.  The smell of smoke and musky deer hides hung in the air. Ahkmer slowly and awkwardly began to rise, sheaving the broad sword he had been clasping through the night. The swords imbued gems and inscriptions shone in the dim light as the blade slid down to be faithfully by his side. After cramming his feet back into his worn black leather boots, Ahkmer clambered out of the tent grabbing his cloak and stretching his aching back. It had been night when he arrived and the pleasant view was a welcome sight to his tired eyes.        
     
A small brook trickled by the side of his tent, and slithered its way along the valley bottom like a snake.  A carpet of glistening dew stretched across the valley like a sea of jewels, sparkling in the gentle breeze.  The rolling hills extended up to either side of the brook, covered from head to foot in colourful flowering meadow plants, all dancing under the morning sun. Ahkmer took a deep breath and sighed, it hadn’t always been this nice on his trip and he knew he would experience more bad fortune before the journey was over.
     Ahkmer looked over to his horse Antrim, grazing lazily amongst the grass in front of the tent and chuckled.
   “I’m going to have to groom you again some time ya messy animal!”
Antrim’s white coat was covered in a layer of crusted dried dirt from rolling on his back, and he had mud matted in his hair all up his hocks.
    Looking at Antrim’s eyes Ahkmer saw what he reckoned to be reluctance; Ahkmer thought it was probably because Antrim knew it would be another day’s hard trek. The next stop would be a long walk, even if he took the shortest route; although it was quicker, it was the least safe path, especially if the night came before they made it to shelter. Ahkmer checked Antrim’s brown leather saddlebag, reigns, bridle and kit lay on the ground by the tent. He didn’t often use Antrim for riding, he had too much gear with him, and so Antrim served more as a packhorse.
     
    Ahkmer fastened his leather belt around his waist and threw his black deerskin cloak around him then eased himself down onto the grass, and began to run his fingers slowly through his black glossy hair that hung down to his shoulders. With his head in his hands he started sinking deep into his thoughts, and the risk he was taking by going the shortest way to Rell. If anyone had seen him during the evening or night then no route would be safe, but the direct route guaranteed danger.  
    Ahkmer continued to muse whilst twiddling pieces of grass around a twig he had found. Ahkmer was in his own world of thought and did not hear the light rustling that had started growing behind him.
    The thudding was getting faster and louder as it approached, green eyes set on the figure sitting with head in hands. A large dark canine shape was hurtling forwards, approaching the back of the tent and still rapidly bounding onwards, wolf like ears erect. The grass swaying apart as its dark bulk ploughed through. Its tongue hanging over yellow stained teeth as it snorted, steam puffing from its nostrils as the warm air met the cool morning breeze. The shape now almost in pouncing distance still leapt forward with ferocity.
    Suddenly alert, Ahkmer snapped out of his daydream. Fear ran through his body as he heard the charging creature behind his back. Reflex swiftly spun him around to face the creature; only for him to be pushed backwards, the sight of the animals face inches from his own, jaws gaping open. Ahkmer watched his blade fall to the ground after fumbling at his sheaf with inexperience.
       Ahkmer began to lose his footing with the pressure of the creature’s weight, falling with a thud, his vision blurring on the impact. Ahkmer flinched, tightly screwing up his eyes as he saw the blur of the dog’s head come closer. He smelt its warm breath as it blew over his face, and felt its sharp claws pinning him to the floor. The slow patter of dribble splattering on Ahkmer’s face prompted him to slowly open his eyes. The dogs outline slowly clearing in his vision, its great head lowering again to lick Ahkmer’s face with eager delight. Forcefully reaching up Ahkmer pushed the great shaggy animal off and began to shout between rapid breaths of shock.          
   “Kwaz, you little! Why I’ll, Arrgh!” Yelled Ahkmer.
   The dog sat down and scratched its nose, obviously pleased with his little prank.
Ahkmer with one hand wiping his now sweaty brow stared at the dog and tried to put on a serious face,
  “I suppose you think you’re funny?” muttered Ahkmer.
The dog gently curving its back and continuing to rub its nose between its paws glanced up at Ahkmer; an innocent look appearing across his face.
  “I could have killed you!” Ahkmer spluttered. He saw the dog open its eyes a little further, cock its head and sneeze.
  “Don’t you take that tone with me!” muttered Ahkmer “I could have easily killed you!” Ahkmer paused and scratched his chin.
“I, err, I just knew it was you! Which is why I didn’t turn to face you before!” Ahkmer lied.
   The dog looked up then began to roll on the dusty ground at the side of the tent, scratching its back.
   “I’m serious! I’m not happy, you won’t get any food today for that!” Ahkmer shouted.
    Kwaz now stopping his rolling sat up and met Ahkmer’s eyes, letting out a slow fake whimper.
    Ahkmer looked to the ground; he was never able to stay angry at his dog Kwaz, no matter how much trouble he got them into, or whatever he did.
   “Now you’ve gone and made me shout, and if any one hostile is near they will find us, now go and have a scout around and see if you can be of some use” Ahkmer said calmly, crossing his arms and watching Kwaz begin to lope off sulkily up the hill.
  
Ahkmer had been given the dog when he was fifteen; Kwaz had been there through all the trials he had faced since that time. Ahkmer’s father had bound the spirit of a dead teenager with the dog, so Kwaz was almost human in personality, and could understand language. However, he couldn’t speak and still had many dog like traits, such as barking at squirrels. His personality was wholly different to that of the boy he used to be, and he was totally unaware of his previous life, as was Ahkmer.
     Kwaz was now Ahkmer’s best friend and his protector, Ahkmer was facing the greatest challenge of his life; he was going to need his only friend by his side.

At the age of nineteen Ahkmer’s father had been murdered with the rest of his guild, leaving him as the last descendant of the Guild of Berek, the only remaining person with the bloodline that gave him his powers of necromancy. Berek, one of the six great guilds was the guild of the night, masters of the dead, although Ahkmer was far from a master.
   With the fall of the King and the Kingdom in a state of anarchy Ahkmer now ventured deep into the forbidden lands to seek council; from rulers and elders who now lay beyond the realms of life, council from the dead.
    

Ahkmer after packing up camp and feeding Kwaz, began saddling up Antrim and loading all their gear. He fitted the rolled tent and sheepskin wrap behind Antrim’s saddle. Into one saddle bag at the side of Antrim, Ahkmer placed a pair of blue leather bound books about magery and necromancy. Ahkmer as usual felt a shiver go up his spine upon touching them, their leather fronts feeling cold and icy to the touch. Ahkmer slipped some coins into the bag with the books before strapping it all shut and moving around to the other side; in which he placed a full water carrier made from a pigs stomach. Ahkmer took one last bite of salted beef and threw a hunk to Kwaz, before stowing that in the pouch with his water flask.
   “Well, it’s about time we got going isn’t it” sighed Ahkmer as he tugged on Antrim’s reigns and began to stride down the hill, with his black cloak wavering behind him in the breeze, the chilled air cooling his face. He surveyed the route slowly as he trudged on with Kwaz and Antrim at either side. Ahkmer still felt troubled with his decision to take the short route with the knowledge of what lay ahead on the way to Rell; a small village on the border of the forbidden lands. As the three walked Ahkmer begin to think of the day his trip had started, how he saw his father slaughtered at the hands of the mages of the guild of Elmarr; in their bid to destroy any one who attempted to restore the throne, Elmarr and the other four great guilds had fought amongst each other in an attempt to gain control of the land; still the war raged, levelling the capitol of Salek to the ground. The Guild of Berek had been destroyed in its attempt to restore the throne; Ahkmer had seen the elders of Berek killed, along with his own father. Ahkmer sought revenge on the great guilds, and to give power to the true rulers of the Kingdom, he just didn’t know who the true rulers were now, or how to get his revenge, he still felt like a little boy out of his depth.
     “I’ve let my father down, and now I venture to my death,” muttered Ahkmer, becoming lost in the magnitude of his goal. The brush of Kwaz against his side cheered him a little and brought him back into reality, to get on with whatever might lay ahead.
     Ahkmer looked down at the wolf like dog and smiled, reaching to scratch his ears.
     “I’m glad you’re here with me Kwaz, we’ll get through this,” Said Ahkmer, more to himself than the dog.