Thunder Hunter: Viking Soul Book 1 (Viking Soul Series)

by Rachel Medhurst

  Thunder Hunter

  Viking Soul Book 1

  By Rachel Medhurst

  For Thor to live, Thunder Hunter must die.

  A thousand years, that's how long I've been hunting the Fallen Ones that escaped Freya's field. One hundred and ninety five down, five to go. Just five disgusting evil spirits until I die and Thor's thunder will be returned to him. Nothing will stand in the way of me completing my mission, not even the woman who claims to be a descendant of Freya. I will kill the next Fallen One, no matter what.

  Please note that the author is English so spelling is in British English.

  Copyright © 2016 by Rachel Medhurst

  This book is dedicated to Sara

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  Contents

  Prologue - For Thor to Live…

  1-The Gods’ Descendants

  2-Viking Souls Unite

  3-History Unravelled

  4-Loki’s Blood Falls

  5-A Woman and Her Dog

  6-Decomposing Truth

  7-Dark Crawlers of the Night

  8-The Hagalaz Cult

  9-Trained For Magic

  10-Dancing With Darkness

  11-The Goddess’ Huntress

  12-Fighting For The Truth

  13-One Step Closer

  14-Preparing For The Fallen One

  15-Embrace Thor’s Lightning

  Book 2 – Lightning Seeker

  Acknowledgements

  Author

  Copyright

  Prologue

  For Thor to Live…

  THE DYING BODY of my grandfather lay at my feet. Stooping, I transferred him into my arms, grunting as the bulk of his muscle weighed me down. His low groan vibrated through me as the battle raged on around us. The heavens resonated with the sound of swords clashing and shouts from dying men. And gods.

  “Where do you think you’re going? Put him down!”

  The stiff muscles in my back stretched as I turned to face my great uncle, Loki. He had been the one to strike my grandfather with his sword. Freya had managed to preoccupy him while I ran to rescue the great god.

  “Leave him be, Loki.” The shake of my voice was a testament to my inexperience.

  Gritting my teeth, I cleared my throat, ready to speak again. Loki, tall and thin, the corner of his lip always sunk into his cheek, came closer, his sword held by his side. He saw me as no threat.

  “You are but a boy, Trygger, leave this war to the men.” Dismissing me with a wave, he turned his back to me.

  If the mighty god Thor hadn’t been in my arms, I would have attempted to run him through with my sword. Instead, I moved away from him, determined to get Thor away from the heavens and back to earth. He would be safe there for a while.

  “Why are you so foolish? I always told your father that he had spawned an idiot. So bloody…innocent.”

  I froze, my feet almost merging into the soft grass under my feet. Innocent? My innocence had been stolen the night Loki had kidnapped me away from earth so he could torment his enemy, his foster brother, Thor.

  “You may think I’m innocent, but I don’t care about your opinion of me, Uncle.” I spat the last word as if clearing a disgusting taste from my mouth.

  His laugh taunted me. If my hands were free, I would have fisted them, ready to fight. My father had trained me to be ready for battle since I was a boy. When Loki had killed him in a one on one duel, my grandfather had visited me on earth to help me train to become an accomplished fighter like him. I had learnt well.

  “You weaken the more you hold him. Why don’t you put him down and face me like a real man?”

  It was too much. I couldn’t refuse his challenge. Laying Thor on the ground, I paused when he managed to wrap a hand around my wrist. My gaze shot to his face. His eyes were open, but the light in them were weak.

  “Get out of here, Trygger. You need to live.” His strained voice was hard to hear over the battle in the background.

  Gripping his fingers, I tore them away from me. “I will not let you die!”

  Straightening, I turned to face Loki. He circled me, coming closer to Thor. Skipping forward, I forced him away from my grandsire, the god who had fallen in love with a human, my grandmother, Ingrid. My heritage made me proud. I would never let the god of thunder down.

  “You think I’m a boy?”

  I approached Loki, my bulk and height bigger than his. As his neck bent back, he looked up at me, his grin widening.

  “You may look like a man, a warrior, even…but, your heart hasn’t known pain…or love. The two most exquisite emotions known to humans. And, to the gods.”

  At the age of twenty-five, I couldn’t deny his claim. I had been too busy learning to fight to find love. Or, to lose it. Yet, he had forgotten one thing.

  “You killed my father! How dare you say that I’ve never felt pain?!”

  My roar made the smile freeze on his face. The white of his cheeks paled even more as his memory served him.

  “Oh, that was just…unfortunate. I warned your father not to get involved in our little spat,” Loki said, gesturing towards Thor.

  Glancing behind me, I gritted my teeth when I saw that Thor was trying his hardest to get to his feet. It wasn’t working. Loki’s sword had hit him deep in the stomach. He was losing a lot of blood.

  “First mistake.”

  Pain exploded in my head as the flat side of Loki’s blade connected with my skull. I flew backwards, landing on the green grass just outside of Valhalla’s gates. I had to get Thor away to give him the best chance to survive.

  Thrusting to my feet, I ignored the dizziness that spun my head. Loki had moved nearer to my grandfather, but he faced me as I growled deep within my chest. He would have to kill me first.

  “You’re not the one I’m here for. Be a good boy and leave me be.”

  Throwing myself forward, I wrapped my arms around Loki’s waist to drag him down to the floor. He gripped his hands around my throat as I tried to pin him down. My throat constricted as he squeezed, his evil eyes boring into me as I thrashed around, looking for a weapon to prise him off. How was he so strong? His figure was lithe and fast, but he didn’t have muscles like my grandfather and me.

  “Give up!” he hissed into my ear as darkness crept into the corner of my eyes.

  Trying my hardest to drag air into my lungs, I coughed. My throat burned where I couldn’t breathe. Loki looked over at Thor, his grin returning as my eyes drifted closed and his face disappeared.

  My consciousness only wavered. As Loki’s hands fell from my throat, he shoved me off him, getting to his feet. I pried my eyes open, gasping in as much air as I could. My body was glued to the ground, my head tight and heavy.

  “This is it,” Loki shouted, bending down to Thor. “It’s my time!”

  My mouth opened as a silent scream rasped out of my raw throat. Loki’s hand plunged into Thor’s chest, making my grandfather writhe in pain. His roar cut straight through me, willing me to help him.

  “Sorry…brother.” Loki’s voice was full of glee as he ripped Thor’s thunder from his chest.

  A ball of lightning and storms sat in Loki’s cupped hands as Thor collapsed on the floor, his body completely still. Getting to my hands and knees, I tried to crawl to him. My throat burned so badly, every time I tried to inhale, tears fell from my eyes. Were they tears of physical pain? Or, were they tears of sorrow?

  “Loki! I don’t think so…” Freya.

  Her golden glowing aura hit my eyes, stinging my pupils. I had always struggled to look at her when I
had visited the heavens. She was beautiful, but glowed brighter than the sun. My father had whispered stories of her as we sat around the camp fire in Scandinavia. His words came to me as Freya closed in on Loki.

  “When we die, Viking, we go to Valhalla. Although, I wouldn’t mind visiting Fólkvangr…for just one look at her beauty.”

  I choked as I tried to speak. To shout to Freya as Loki backed away. She had to help Thor. If she didn’t, it would be too late.

  “Come now, Freya, let me have my glory!” Loki snapped at the goddess, glaring at her, seemingly unaffected by the light of her.

  Her long blonde hair flowed behind her as if a small breeze wound just around her. The field outside Valhalla was still. In fact, the noise of the fighting had started to die down.

  “You do not get to have his thunder. That’s not how this is planned.”

  Loki stamped his foot, causing the ground to shake. The power he held in his hands vibrated through him.

  Trying my hardest to keep the attention off me, I dragged myself around to my grandfather. Loki stood in front of us, his back straight as he faced another of his enemies. Not that Loki was lacking in those.

  Thor’s chest wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed, his blonde eyelashes touching his cheeks. My chest squeezed as the man who had taught me so much faded away.

  “Give me that!”

  Freya launched at Loki, catching him off-guard. He hadn’t expected the goddess of love to dare attack him. Stumbling, Loki tripped forward, almost making it too easy for Freya to catch the ball of Thor’s thunder.

  “No!” Loki scrambled to his feet as Freya flew towards me.

  I wrapped my arms around Thor, ready to hold him still as she put his power back. Instead of plunging her hand into his chest, she moved closer to me.

  Loki ran towards us, shouting. I watched in silence as Freya’s hand rose in the air and plunged into my back where I crouched over my grandfather. My head flew back as pain, and a blast of fire, rocked throughout my chest and all over my body.

  A scream echoed around us. I thought it was Loki’s but as I collapsed forward, I realised that I had been the one to make the sound. Freya removed her hand and turned to face Loki.

  He was frozen, staring at her, then at me. The shake of his head was slow as his cheeks grew redder and his lips caved in on themselves.

  “What have you done?” he spat between clenched teeth.

  My whole body shook as I lay over Thor, my thoughts running over and over. I had Thor’s power within me. Thor’s thunder. Loki was right. What had Freya done?

  “You better get out of here before I drag you back to my field. No one kills Thor under my watch.”

  As Freya spoke, something shifted beneath me. Backing up, I stared as my grandsire’s spirit rose from his body. Loki gasped when Thor looked at him. There was no anger in his gaze, just sadness. Loki had finally done the worse.

  “Go, Thor, I promise I will do everything in my power to bring you back.” Freya stilled Loki by stepping in front of him when he tried to approach Thor’s body.

  Thor’s spirit moved away, so I threw my still vibrating body over Thor’s lifeless body. If Loki managed to get hold of it, he could burn him, forever getting rid of Thor in the physical world.

  Freya’s power, a surge of light, made Loki fall back, his buttocks hitting the ground. The grunt that came from him was full of pain more unbearable than from simply falling. It was failure. He had failed to get Thor’s power for himself.

  “You’ll pay for this.” Loki scrambled to his feet, glaring at Freya before his gaze landed on me. “And, don’t think I won’t kill you.”

  Before I could blink, Freya rushed towards Loki, grabbed his shoulders and pushed him with all her might. The god flew back into the arms of two of Freya’s sentries. They instantly put him in chains and hauled him, kicking and screaming, away from the field.

  “Where are they taking him?” I asked, looking up at my grandfather as he started to pace backwards.

  His spirit was silent, not able to talk in the heaven of the living. He watched me, his eyes narrowed on my chest. Looking down, I gasped when I saw the rip in my leather top. My chest was whole, but a line of blood flowed down my muscles from my heart. Freya’s hand must have gone right through.

  “Somewhere I can keep an eye on him. Today has not turned out how I expected. Thor, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from Loki.” Freya’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “But, I have put your thunder in Trygger for safe keeping. I need him to do something for me.”

  Thor nodded, a small smile on his face. Although his body lay dead in my arms, his soul lived on. And, seeing his shimmering spirit made the loss easier to bare.

  “I will keep Loki trapped in my field until Trygger can complete his mission.”

  My gaze shot to her. Mission? What mission? I went to open my mouth, but the goddess went on, ignoring me completely.

  “Thor, your body will be safe under Valhalla, trapped in ice, until the time your thunder can be returned to you.”

  As Thor bowed his head, his eyes closed. Freya was going out of her way to help him come back to life. I would follow her example and do everything I could to help. Including the mission Freya wanted me to complete.

  Nothing more was said as Thor glanced at me one last time and put a hand on his heart. I bowed to him, ready to serve my god and grandfather.

  “Trygger,” Freya said, getting my attention as Thor started to walk towards the gates of Valhalla. “You will go down to earth to find the Fallen Ones. You will kill the bastards that escaped my field and send them back to me. All two hundred of them.”

  Fallen Ones? The most powerful evil spirits that had been kept at Fólkvangr, the meadow where Freya ruled. Where half of those that died in combat go upon death, while the other half go to the god Odin in Valhalla. Most of the dark souls were sent to the underworld, Helheim, when they left the bodies of evil humans, but Freya had sought to keep some of them in Fólkvangr to back her up in the event of a war ever getting out of out of control. Legend said that the Fallen Ones were dark enough to influence, and even kill, a god. However, that had never been proven.

  Rubbing my chest, I untucked myself from Thor’s body and lowered it to the ground, ready for Freya to move it to safety. Standing, I faced her, listening intently to her orders.

  “You will not be able to die until all two hundred of the evil spirits are back in my field again. Their escape makes me look like a weak goddess, a goddess that has failed. I can’t have that, I won’t have that. Not anymore.” Her soft face screwed up.

  Freya had been tricked into a dalliance with a fresh spirit. Their passionate affair caused her to become distracted from her job as Ward of Spirits in Fólkvangr. Loki had bribed the guards that worked for Freya to allow the Fallen Ones to escape when she was wrapped in the arms of her lover.

  “It’s been hundreds of years since they escaped, how will I know who they are?” I thumped my chest to stop the burning. It didn’t work.

  “That’s going to take some getting used to…” She gestured to where I had just hit myself. “…His power will enhance your fighting skills. You may be able to use some of it for controlling the weather, but I’m not sure. I’ve never put a god’s power into a human.”

  Freya was right. I was mostly human. My grandsire was a god, but my father was half human and my mother was full. If I was to have any godly power, I hadn’t come into it yet.

  “You will know who the spirits are because Thor’s power will call upon you. A burning in your chest will alert you of their presence. Use his lightning by calling upon it to show you the way. It may take you a year, it may take you a million years. I wish you all the luck.” Freya’s bright blue eyes sparkled as she laid a hand on my arm.

  The glow was easier to bare now that I was used to it. I couldn’t wait to tell my family and friends that I had met, and been touched, by the goddess Freya. My Viking relatives would never believe me. Ever.

 
“Freya, I thank you for saving Thor’s thunder from Loki.” I wanted to ask her why she chose me, but it was considered rude to question a god or goddess.

  “You think I’m crazy. You are inexperienced. You’ve not lived much. Yet, I can see a power in you all of your own, Viking. Never forget, no matter how long you’re on earth, that you are the grandson of Thor, god of thunder. If you complete your mission, Trygger, you will be allowed to die. Upon which, your soul will live with the gods. You will have earned that right.” Freya’s cheeks reddened when I dropped to my knees in front of her.

  A soft hand brushed across my head, sweeping away my long black hair that had come loose. I watched the long strands move within the breeze. The goddess Freya was stroking me. I couldn’t wait to tell my fellow swordsmen.

  “I thank you for the gift you’ve given me,” I declared, bowing my head to her.

  She lowered, crouching in front of me. Her legs opened, revealing pale thighs. I blinked, looking into her face to avoid seeing if her skirt rose too high. The last thing I wanted to do was offend the goddess by looking up her dress to see what was underneath. Although, I was sure one look of her nether region would send me wild.

  “I’m not sure you’ll think it’s a gift soon enough, but for now, good luck, warrior. Go and hunt those spirits that are masquerading as human beings. Find them for me, Viking. Become a true hunter and you shall die and live among the gods.”

  1

  The Gods’ Descendants

  “YOU BREATHE AS if it’s your last breath,” she whispered, holding the knife nearer to my throat.

  The chuckle that moved my chest invited her to press harder.

  A decade had passed since I had last seen her. Tied to a bed. Left used, yet satisfied.

  “I’ll never see my last breath.”

  The shackles held my arms stretched above my head. The cool wall behind me shocked my skin every time I accidently made contact with it. She had cut my shirt off, determined to bring me to my knees. How ironic that I couldn’t bend.