Barbarians At The Gate Audiobook Novels & Stories

However, he spared no glance as we proceeded through the place where the captives were working. “It wasn't a gate?” Bewilderment struck my lips apart as soon as my eyes came in contact with the gigantic metal I had presumed to be the pack prison gate— and without knowing a word had clumsily slipped out of my mouth to the hearing of the two warriors. Suddenly, the two erupted into loud laughter while I stared at them blankly for the sudden outburst, which seemed so vivid that I was the subject of their mockery. “You can't mock me for what I didn't know!” I queried with a harsh tone, my gaze turned at Bernard.

**ARIA'S POV** The gates of Ironfang came into view through the trees, massive iron bars that looked more like prison walls than protection. Guards spotted us immediately, shouting orders I couldn't quite make out from this distance. Caelan helped me down the horse, his hand remained locked around mine as we approached. He didn't slow down or acknowledge the commotion our arrival was causing. My chest tightened. The gates swung open before we reached them. Warriors poured out, forming ranks on either side of the entrance. Their expressions ranged from relief to suspicion to barely concealed hostility.

This was going to get ugly fast. The beasts shrieked, a sound that scraped at my bones. They threw themselves at the gates with mindless frenzy, their claws hooking through the bars. The left hinge snapped with a sound like breaking spines. Dante whirled, his bloodied muzzle peeling back before the booking sound of his animalistic groan cut through the dim morning like a trumpet. “GET HER INSIDE! NOW!” my shoulders hunched around the order in a way that was sure to put the fear of the goddess in my spine.

Below, the south gate stood shut, iron teeth of the massive wooden gate glinting. Through the gaps I saw them: at least a hundred wolves and men on foot, banners snapping; black and green, Shadowpine colors. Jakob Bjarnarson sat at the front on a big gray horse, armor strapped tight, face hard as the stone under my feet. My own father. The man who used to tell me stories about brave Lunas. Now he looked ready to carve me open. Gunnar stopped ten feet from the gate and crossed his arms. "Open the speaking slit," he called up. A guard cranked a lever. The small barred window in the gate dropped with a clang.

Is it dark everywhere she goes? Mardichi was right about one thing. She’s terrifying. “The barbarian has done me no wrong. He walks these halls like a nuisance puppy. Bothering the men and making them laugh when they’re miserable. Giving them company when they didn’t know they wanted any. He has a way of being a solid boulder when one needs something to lean on.” Despite all her short notes and hard tone the hint of something that might’ve been fondness entered her voice.

We were probably only being led into a trap where they either killed us as soon as we entered the gate or threw us in their dungeon before demanding some kind of reward from Father for our return. Tensing as the wheels under us rolled onto the drawbridge, filling the carriage with a different tone—a more ominous timbre—I glanced warily out the window, not liking how trapped I felt. This would be the perfect place for them to launch their attack. When my gaze caught on the barbican we were about to pass through, however, the guards inside it eyed us curiously from both sides, a few even waving with wide, cheerful, goofy grins. I frowned and sat back in my seat. Not very daunting, were they? T

Sydney hugged me, saying, "Come home if you feel sad." I nodded, and as I left, a commotion caught my attention. A girl was pushed into a puddle by boys, her white dress stained with dirt. Sydney scolded the boys, and I helped the girl up. She clutched a stuffed bear tightly, its face splashed with mud. "Is this important to you?" I asked. She nodded, trying in vain to clean the mud off. Sydney sighed, "This child waits for her family at the gate every day, but no one comes."

I watched as Dad kicked open the old, decrepit door of the warehouse and dragged Yannis in. From a short distance away, Queenie, who was tied to a pillar, cried out, "Uncle Ben!" Strangely, she did not look pleased to see Dad. Instead, she looked panicked. Dad ignored her. He dragged Yannis to another pillar and tied him to it. Once that was done, he went up to Queenie. "You're finally here, Uncle Ben! You saved me! I was so scared!" Queenie cried pitifully. For once, Dad seemed unfazed by her tears.

"I'm a crazy bastard." After saying those words, a single rune behind Cia's ear shone. This coincided with a large gate that suddenly appeared in the room. The gate frame is blackish brown with two very large doors. The door has a big fire in the middle. Then, when the two doors opened, ear-piercing screams echoed. Hot flames have an age of more than 10,000 years, it is red with black on top.

As we passed, creatures of all shapes and sizes peered through open doorways, each creature more terrifying than the last. “Come, my pretty sweet. We cannot be late for the master.” Dareios urged me on. As far as I was concerned, I would have loved to be late – just to put Icelus’ nose out of joint. But on the other hand, having the god of nightmares angry at me couldn’t be a good thing. Dareios seemed to quicken the pace and I had no choice but to follow him until we broke free from the buildings and approached a wall which was so tall that I couldn’t even see the other side of it. Gates of finely carved ebony barred the way and I stood staring at them while Dareios spoke to the guards who