The Hammer of Thor (The Falkenburg Files Book 1)


 
 Copyright © 2012 André Milewski
 Imprint: Independently published | Paperback ISBN 9798376111505
 Translation by Melody Shaw
 Edited by Philip Yaeger | Proofread by Emily Stewart
 The quote between Chapters 37 and 38 is taken from Walhall – Germanische Götter- und Heldensagen
 by Felix Dahn
 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 Published by Roberts & Maclay Publishing
 Cover Artwork by reinhardfenzl.com
 
 Created with pictures from depositphotos.com
 
 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
 
 
 www.
 andre-
 milewski.de
 
 
 
 
 www.
 robertsmaclay.com
 
 
 
 
 office@
 robertsmaclay.com
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CONTENTS
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Prologue
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 1
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 2
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 3
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 4
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 5
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 6
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 7
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 8
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 9
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 10
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 11
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 12
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 13
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 14
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 15
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 16
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 17
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 18
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 19
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 20
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 21
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 22
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 23
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 24
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 25
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 26
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 27
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 29
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 31
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 32
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 33
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 34
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 35
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 38
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Epilogue
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Fact, Fiction and Background Information
 
 
 
 
 
 
 About the Author
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 * * *
 
 
 
 For Lena
 
 
 
 
 
 * * *
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 * * *
 
 
 
 My utmost gratitude
 for unforgettable literary moments
 and inspiration go to
 the unforgettable
 Carl Barks
 
 
 
 
 
 * * *
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 “Far as the speeding hammer flies,
 
 
 Thus far will my lands and oceans extend”
 
 
 
 
 
 And the hammer flew forth from his hand
 
 
 Over all the earth at his behest
 
 
 The farthest borders of his land
 
 
 Were set where the hammer came to rest
 
 
 
 
 
 Henceforth has it been Teutonic right
 
 
 As rightful heirs of the hammer god, free
 
 
 
 
 
 To claim new lands with the hammer’s might
 
 
 His empire shall our birthright be.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PROLOGUE
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Markland, 1000 A.D.
 
 “Let us hope that was the last of these accursed Skraelings!” Leif cursed as he pulled his sword from the motionless body with a powerful jerk. Blood trickled steaming from the wound and dripped onto the snow, coloring it a deep red. Leif surveyed the battlefield, scattered with the bodies of their enemies—at least twenty or thirty of the skulking cowards, at a guess. Amongst them he caught sight of two familiar faces: Thoralf and Sigurd. Both had been brutally maimed, but Leif could not look away from his dead comrades. It was his fault; he had led them to this terrible place at the end of the earth. He would never have made it this far alone. Only with the help of his faithful friends had it been possible. Your sacrifice will not be in vain!
 he swore to them. At last, he tore his gaze away from the dead men to see Heimir trying to pull his double-headed battle-axe out of the torso of a Skraeling. Finally, with a hideous crack, the axe came free.
 “The gods will curse us for this!”
 Heimir’s voice betrayed his unease at their deed, and Leif looked at his friend. Heimir towered almost two heads above him. His shoulders were so broad that there was no room beside him for a second man on the oarsmen’s bench of their dragon boat. His blond hair was tied in a long braid. He had vowed to cut it only after being defeated