A human bride, two goblin generals, and one politically disastrous love triangle. Book 1 of the Goblin Series—brutal, fast-paced, and emotionally sharp.

They call it tribute. It's just another word for sacrifice.

When a weak human king offers brides to appease the goblin horde, the goblin king sees his chance. He'll wed them to his oldest generals; warriors whose time has passed. Two birds, one stone. Keep the humans in check, remind his generals they're disposable.

Only problem? These battle-scarred veterans didn't survive decades of warfare by being stupid. And they didn't earn their scars by being merciful.

Between assassination attempts, political schemes, and a royal family that makes rattlesnakes look cuddly, the tribute brides are about to learn why goblin retirement plans don't include rocking chairs.

The goblin king's about to learn why you should read the fine print on marriage contracts - especially when your generals are more cunning than you thought.

No explicit content, but plenty of political intrigue, dark humor, and the kind of romance that blooms in blood-soaked soil. After all, in the Goblin City, nobody's quite what they seem.

Praise for the Goblin General:
"The Goblin General is the first book I've read by this author. It's so good that before I was halfway through it, I bought more of her books."
"The plot is solid, the pacing is excellent, and the characters are believable."
"The world building was rich and the characters engaging."
"I have enjoyed every book of Autumn Dawn’s that I have read."
"Wonderful women goblins!"

"I loved the fierce old goblin crones!"
"Charming, amusing, enjoyable book!"
"Clean fantasy, excellent world building. Never seen anything like it."
"Please write another sequel! I love these books. This is one of the best fantasies! I screamed and whooped! I love all the characters, even the bad one."
"I love that she doesn't write detailed sex scenes. I'm tired of reading books that offend my sensibilities."
"This was so entertaining! I truly enjoyed this book. Who would have thought of goblins for heroes?"

✨Read a Sample now:

 

Chapter 1

Wedding

It was so quiet she could hear the wedding banners snap. Fifty people were standing on and around the platform, and the loudest thing was the flap of the flags and awning. The sky was white blue, storm clouds building in the north.

Her father, King Terran, sat gloomily in his chair, dressed in gold and red velvet, his beautiful queen Ida beside him. Rumor had it, this alliance was her idea.

Across from him sat the smirking goblin king, in embossed leather armor and fur. His olive green face held cruel delight, the sharp beak of his nose flaring like a hunting hound. He grinned, wolf teeth sharp and vicious. His pointed mobile ears perked with interest.

A red eagle sat on the back of his chair, long talons gouging the wood. The lethal birds could take down wolves, and were intelligent enough to deliver messages and drop firebombs on the battlefield. They were just one of the reasons the goblins were amassing territory.

The ancient mountain city, the goblin capital Bozhi, had actually moved closer. The tides of power had shifted as cities fell, and the mountains had responded. It used to be miles away, tucked deep in the mountains, but the wedding party had rode here in less than an hour.

Today’s wedding was an appeasement. The brides were among the most gifted of the humans, normally a handsome prize, but they and their dowry were just part of the tribute going to the goblins. The human king was no warrior. It was submit or die.

In accordance with goblin custom when taking tribute wives, the girls had been stripped of their names. They were to belong only to their husband’s family, and would have nothing more to do with their birth families.

Three girls were standing, hands curled in their fur mittens, their wedding dresses buried under fur coats. Across from them were the old men, the generals, who were the bridegrooms.

The old men had been a surprise; the goblin king Thothzi liked to play games. He chose to rub King Terran’s nose in the fact that the brides were just toys, as unimportant as the rest. Terran had to submit to the insult. Resistance would see Thothzi’s return, this time with an army. King Terran, his queen and his kingdom would be dead.

The wedding had to be outdoors, no matter the weather. No one trusted anyone enough to be trapped indoors.

“This one commands fire,'' said the human king, Terran. He gestured to the black-haired girl with the tall black fur hat, a scowl on her face. She looked like she'd like to burn everything to cinders. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. She was there because she’d burned the house of a suitor who had rejected her, with him inside, and her family disowned her. It was this or prison.

The girl curtsied, her back ramrod straight, flames in her eyes.

“Oh, the firebug! Not bad for a human,” the goblin king said, grinning viciously. “We will call her Cinder.” It was goblin custom to rename brides in situations like this, but this name was too much like a pet. Another insult. “I'm sure General Onhi can handle her.”

The general turned cataract covered eyes to him and scowled. He was missing an arm below the elbow and one leg. The warriors around him wore colors denoting they belonged to him.

“We generals will choose our own bride from the three,” he growled, and then coughed. He had gravitas, and It was clear he’d once been powerful, but time had taken its toll. “Have you forgotten?”

“So you did,” the goblin agreed, still amused. He flapped his hand rudely at Terran. “Go on.”

“This one commands shadow beasts,” King Terran said. He gestured to the black-haired, dark skinned girl next. She was plain by human standards, her features too large, but who knew what goblins admired? Anyway, it was her power that caused an approving murmur.

A huge shadow beast appeared, hulking beside her shoulder. It couldn't be touched by mortal hands, but its claws and teeth could shred flesh. Big like a cave bear, it drooled smoke.

“Useful,” the goblin king murmured, looking thoughtful, but he didn’t bother naming her. It was more proper for the husband to do so, anyway. “She’s the lame tongue, isn’t she? No matter. No one wants to hear a woman talk, anyway.” The goblins near him laughed.

The poor girl wobbled when she curtsied, humiliated. Somewhere a woman began to weep; probably her mother.

Finally, it was the princess’s turn. Her hands were icy with cold sweat, and a trickle ran down her back.

“This one is my daughter,'' King Terran said without enthusiasm. “King maker. As you can see she has the mark.”

He leveled a flinty glance on her. “Show them.”

She hated him so much. He’d never wanted her, was selling her off because he was a weak man and a terrible king. And there was not a single thing she could do about it.

She pulled down the edge of her fur coat to expose the kingmaker mark on her neck. Her elaborate blond braids slid over the back of her coat as she lifted her chin. Three seconds, and then she covered it again.

“Her sons will be strong and smart.” Terran sounded unexcited, like a farmer selling off a particularly ugly cow.

“She's blonde,'' the goblin king noted. “Are you sure she's yours?”

A muscle jumped in King Terran’s cheek. Her mother was from the north. He had never wanted her. Later, when the northern princess died (so very tragically) he wed his favorite concubine and made her queen.

The goblin king was well informed.

“Her grandfather is a famous chieftain, Tet al Hoi. She has his coloring.”

Good plan, the princess thought bitterly. If you can’t prove paternity, stick with the positives. It was true she had almost white hair, and her grandfather was said to have had the same in his youth. It looked washed out compared to the dark southern beauties. She had to darken her brows or they disappeared against her pale skin.

She had never looked anything like the dark-skinned King Terran. Her mother had been despised for it. The only reason the princess was still alive was because the northern ambassador (the blond ambassador) had taken an interest in her. Unfortunately, that alliance ended, and she hadn't seen that ambassador in years.

Today was the start of the new alliance. Weak humans and murderous goblins. She was just a side of meat waiting for the frying pan.

…

Tet al Hoi.

Old Ye and Zir te Yal exchanged glances at the famous name. Both had fought in the North. They knew what that name meant.

The generals exchanged loaded glances.

“I'll take the blonde,” the old general said, his voice ringing out. His body was battle broken, but his lungs still worked. He might not be able to rise easily, but he sat in his chair like a king, surrounded by his own warriors. He wore dark glasses, the light too bright for his aging eyes. His lump of a nose was misshapen, and his old green skin looked like a topographical map.

He was also one of the most feared men in his generation.

Everyone looked at him. They looked at the goblin king.

The goblin king snorted. He considered, and then smiled like a honey badger scenting blood. “Well, then. And what will you name the king’s bastard daughter?”

General Ye considered the girl. Husbands named their wives, but nothing said it had to be done now. “I will think about it.” When the goblin king would have pushed, he bellowed, “Let’s get on with it!”

There was a moment of tense silence. He had dared to interrupt his king.

King Terran cleared his throat, fearful of violence. “Very well. Shall we sign the contracts?” He gestured to his scribe, who stood ready with the registration book and necessary documents.

King Thothzi made him sweat a moment before he agreed. “Very well. My revered generals are old. They must be craving a warm fire by now. Let’s finish this.”

The brides were selected. Ironically, Cinder ended up with the first general, Onhi, after all. Their names were signed in the register with little fanfare. The high priest declared them married; just like that. There was no speech, no pageantry.

The nameless bride was once again reminded of a grocery purchase. She didn’t even pay attention to whatever goblin scrawl the general put in the registrar.

Her skin crawled thinking of the wedding night. It was bad enough that he was a goblin. He was so old and so ugly she could not stand the thought of him touching her. She had to think of a way to avoid it.

Since she didn’t have a name, she was told to write “granddaughter of Chief Tet al Hoi.” Another slap in the face, not being given the king’s name. So much public humiliation.

“It’s an honorable lineage,” General Ye growled softly.

Startled, she stared at him. She had not expected soft words from him. Was he being kind? It didn't make sense. He was a brutal goblin general, a bloody general with a reputation even she had heard of. He’d hung bodies from walls, their heads on pikes. What was she, but tribute?

Her father, who sat behind the signing table, suddenly laughed. “I like it. Do it!” he commanded, repudiating her for the final time.

Ye looked at the king and said loudly, “Better a war chief than daughter to this dribbling sphincter.”

Terran opened his mouth, shocked, and left it hanging.

“You have something to say, sphincter?” Ye looked hopeful.

Terran closed his mouth. He shook his head, making his crown wobble.

Ye grunted in disappointment. Robbed of his sport, he pinned cold yellow eyes on the recording scribe. “You read goblin?”

The scribe paled and lowered his eyes. “No, sir.”

“Sphincters, all of them,” the goblin grumbled, and signed the paper contract. He snatched his own copy up and glared at the scribe again, who was firmly looking away, a shade away from running.

Then it was her turn. Her cheeks burned as she stared at the contract, utterly humiliated. It was sign or die. She signed the king’s copy, bile rising.

General Ye presented her with his copy, daring the scribe to interfere.

The man must have forgotten to breathe, because he fainted.

The goblins hooted in laughter, pointing and jeering. “Coward!” they yelled, enjoying the general’s victory.

Feeling faint but not daring to pass out, the princess signed quickly before she also became the butt of a joke. After all, the man might survive his humiliation, but she was going with the scary goblin.

2. The Goblin City

It was cold and dusty. She rode in the middle of the wedding party, surrounded by General Ye’s soldiers.

General Ye rode in a white carriage built to look like a giant boar. It was drawn by four white war rams, each taller than a goblin warrior. With six mighty horns, the proud beasts could rage through a battlefield. Each cloven hoof was capable of caving in a man's skull. They were greatly prized by goblins and hunted by humans for meat.

The carriage windows had a clear covering, shiny like a soap bubble. She’d never seen anything like it. Windows in her city had wooden or cloth shutters, and some of the palace windows were made of paper to let in light. She wondered if the windows were made of magic.

She hadn’t been invited inside that carriage, although Cinder had been taken up in her husband’s conveyance, surrounded by his respective warriors. Each general seemed to have brought his own.

She felt a little sorry for Cinder’s ancient goblin. She could burn him to a crisp. Maybe they were coming to a truce. He didn’t try to husband her, and she wouldn't roast him. Ha!

The shadow girl, now known as In'shi, was just ahead. She looked miserable riding on her huge smoke hound. At least she should also be safe. She had smoke hounds to protect her, and her goblins had conjured a big umbrella force field to shield her party.

The nameless one didn’t even have a paper umbrella. Whatever. She was used to being scorned. It was a short ride to the goblin city, and hopefully she would at least have a warm room. Out of the wind would be nice.

It began to rain, ever so slightly. Just great. She sighed, shoulders slumped. The placid doe under her walked on, one cloven foot in front of the other. The big mountain sheep needed little direction from her, content to stay with the herd.

On her left rode a huge goblin warrior. Wide jaw, with massive hands and arms, he had gray skin and disturbing orange eyes. His black hair seemed to be short, for it didn’t peek out of his hawk helmet. He was probably a captain or officer, judging by the fancy armor.

His voice was a low rumble. “Do you speak goblin?”

She looked at him, startled. “Some.” She'd learned skulking around the kitchens and gardens, out of her father's sight. When she was young, there were goblin servants. Before the goblins united under the old goblin lord's banner. They'd been mostly indifferent to the king's bastard as long as she was helpful.

“You're a terrible rider.”

Rude! She glared at him. “I wasn’t permitted to learn.” Although she’d badly wanted to. Her half siblings always chased her from the stables. Father didn't care if she were beat up, as long as she didn’t bother him.

“That can be fixed.”

She looked at him sharply. “Oh?”

“Can you read goblin?”

“It's not taught in our schools. I read and write in my own language.” She’d rarely been bothered in the library, so she’d taken advantage of it.

He nodded thoughtfully. “You were educated in politics, geography, science?”

“I had a basic education,” she said defensively. She’d been tutored with the rest of the king’s children, although she’d not been deemed worthy of anything more than the essentials. There’d been no need for finishing school, where her sisters had learned the art of making tea and conversation, for instance. It was assumed she’d be fobbed off to someone unimportant.

In a way, she had been. She had no skills, just a red birthmark on her neck that announced she was a good breeder. She was useless to an old man.

The goblin king’s ram cantered for the gate, and her doe automatically tried to follow. The big goblin signaled for her to wait, watching impassively as she struggled to control her mount. “We will stay with General Ye’s carriage.”

The rain got heavier, but she didn’t complain. She wasn't the only one getting soaked. As they neared the gate, the rain suddenly stopped. She looked up, startled, and saw an orange umbrella force field over her head.

She looked questioningly at the goblin. “Did you…?”

“Women are frail,” he said in answer.

She struggled with that. Goblins cared about that sort of thing?

“Can’t have you dying of cold on your first week here,” he added.

She scowled. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head. “My name is General Zir te Yal. You may call me General Yal.”

She opened her mouth to tell her own name and stopped. She didn’t legally have one. She looked at her doe’s neck instead, suddenly depressed.

“I think we should call you Ye-Ashi. It means Ye’s Gift.” He smiled. “Ye will approve.”

She stared at him. “I thought the husband was supposed to name me?”

He raised his brows. “You don’t like it?”

She blew out a breath. Dealing with goblins was frustrating. She could keep pushing, but she obviously wasn’t going to get a straight answer.

The statues guarding the gates were enormous. Carved from the mountain wall, they were snarling beasts, many stories high. The gate itself was made of iron clad beams, thick and imposing.

She shivered as they passed through the shadows of the gate. It was as wide as a carriage and deep. The carriage and rams were completely covered by its mighty arch.

Shops lined the busy, stone paved roads. Prosperous shops had carved stone gates, others were wood, plaster or paint. Businesses tended to have carvings of trees, food and weapons, while homes had gates with scary animals. Almost all of the shops had shiny bubble windows.

“What are the windows made of?” she asked the general.

He glanced at her. “Toad spit. Farmers raise them. They thrive during the cool summers, hibernate in the winters. There’s a toad leg festival at the end of the season. You just missed it.”

She stared, dumbfounded. Was he joking?

He smirked. “Fried toad legs are very popular. Bars serve them pickled with eggs and onions.”

She swallowed hard against the nausea and looked straight ahead. This did not bode well for the food served here.

The wedding party drew stares, and she avoided looking at the spectators. She didn’t want to see the speculation or the leers.

The streets were noisy with a mix of languages and a few humans, but goblin was the most common language. Delicious food smells mingled with the smell of wet sheep and dung, and the streets were shiny with rain as pedestrians sought shelter under shop awnings and doorways.

The party moved uphill, and shops gave way to houses. Many were carved into the rock, and she wondered if the entire mountain was full of goblin tunnels. Lights glowed in the windows as the light ebbed, and she shivered, longing for a fire.

For all she knew, she’d be sleeping in a shed.

Finally, they reached a gate set into the carved mouth of a screaming eagle. Most of General Yal’s soldiers entered there.

Yal escorted her next door, to a gate enclosed in boar jaws. “This is the Ye home,” Yal informed her. The sentries opened the gate, allowing their party entrance. He watched thoughtfully as her party entered.

It was raining hard by then, so she didn’t see much beyond pillars and covered walkways. The stone path was slick with water, promising to soak her boots with fresh, cold water.

A soldier held her mount, and another lifted her off the ewe. She was grateful, as she couldn’t have managed her wet skirts alone. She was sore from the ride, her clothes were heavy with water and she smelled like sheep. It had been a dreadful day, but the sight of a maid hurrying over with an oversize, orange umbrella made her feel a little better.

The soldiers led the mounts away. She had a moment of loss, knowing her only ride out of there was leaving.

“This way, Madam,” the maid said, urging her to follow. They hustled over the pavers, ducking under the wide porch of a small house. The light and wave of heat in the room almost made her moan. She suppressed the urge, since she wanted to make a good impression.

The maid began to peel off her wet things, murmuring sympathetically.

The room was decorated with painted and carved flowers on the doors and support posts. Dark red and sky blue tiles decorated the coal stove, which was pumping out a welcome, steady heat. The polished wood floor was covered in both woven and fur rugs. Thankfully, there were a minimum of snarling boars; one on a tapestry, another carved on the door, among the flowers.

Rain pounded on the slate roof and glass windows, but couldn’t get in. Gas lamps lit the room, a luxury she’d only heard of, and she had a private bathroom with a claw foot.

Ashi sat at the small table and let the maid peel off her sodden boots and socks. Her feet were wrinkled with dampness, so Ashi padded closer to the stove, holding out her hands as her soaked wedding gown dripped red and blue dye on the warm wooden floor. Cheap quality embroidery thread, she thought dismally. The queen wouldn’t have wasted the good stuff on her. Her skin would be stained for days, and the gown would have to be dyed a dark color to be presentable.

The maid murmured over Ashi’s cold hands. “Poor madam. We have warm clothes and hot tea ready. The general said for you to rest, that he would talk to you at breakfast.” She was small and green skinned, delicate for a goblin. She was also speaking the human language.

Ashi blinked, assimilating the information. “Breakfast?” There wasn’t going to be a confrontation tonight?

“At seven tomorrow,” a no-nonsense goblin woman announced in goblin. Nearly as old as the general, she had green skin and long black hair dressed in an updo, and carried herself like a woman in charge. “My name is Inda and I’m the housekeeper here. Welcome to the house of Ye. It’s my job to help you settle in.”

She gestured to the maid. “This is Ranna. She’s your personal maid. She speaks a little of your language, but I’m told you are fluent in goblin already.”

Word got around fast here! It would pay to remember that. “It’s nice to meet you. General Yal said it was okay to call me Ye-Ashi.”

Ranna sucked in a breath, but quickly ducked her head at Inda’s sharp look.

“Did he? I will address you as Madam Ye, then. Now, why don’t we get you out of your wet clothes? Ranna will draw a bath, and bring you something hot from the kitchens.”

The bath had hot and cold running water, a marvel Ashi had only heard of. She would have asked questions, but was shaking with cold. She hissed as her toes hit the hot water, and Ranna quickly added more cold water. Any other time she’d have loved the heat, but it was too much in her current state.

It was her second bath of the day, but no one would know it from the way the dye stained the water. She washed what she could from her skin. It was a little embarrassing for the goblin women to see her poor quality gown, but it was hardly the first time she’d been dressed like a poor relation.

Thankfully, the servants were well trained and said nothing.

Soon Ashi was dressed in a warm winter dress and sheepskin slippers, enjoying a good meal by the fire. As her long hair dried, she enjoyed a rich, hearty stew with crusty sourdough bread. There were several teapots, a dark red one with hot apple cider, which she quite enjoyed, and a blue pot of tea. There was also an iron pot of bitter, buttered drink, but she avoided it after one sip. It was strangely spiced and not at all to her liking.

Ranna had been surprised that Ashi had brushed her own hair. “But madam, it’s my job,” she protested.

Ashi grimaced. The few times she’d had someone else dress her hair, the rare occasions when her presence was deemed necessary at formal functions, it had been an exercise in torture. She did not care for the ministrations of impatient maids.

“I’m used to doing it myself,” she said, and concentrated on her meal. The rain was coming down in buckets, and she was glad she didn’t have to go outside again today. Also, goblin food was good, which was a big relief. She’d suspected as much, having spent time with goblins in her father’s kitchens, but it was nice to know General Ye had a good cook.

The memory of the young general talking about toad legs made her grimace. She’d make sure to avoid any of the weird local delicacies.

As for General Ye…she had no idea what would happen now. He was her husband, but didn’t seem interested in acting the part, which was great! But also confusing. After all, he had spoken up and said he 'wanted the blonde'. If he didn't want her for a wife, what did he want?

Also confusing was the friction between the generals and their mocking king. What exactly was going on there? Was the king mocking them, too?

Hopefully, they could clear things up at breakfast tomorrow.

Ranna opened Ashi’s trunk and began unpacking. It didn’t take long. Like most people, Ashi had only a few sets of clothes. Her wedding dress, two sets of work clothes, a single court dress and a nightgown. The coat, mittens and boots were new, and represented more clothes than she'd ever received in her life.

She'd even been issued socks!

Fiber had to be grown, harvested, cleaned, spun, dyed and woven by hand. A simple coat cost twenty hours of a skilled craftsman's time. Leather and fur were just as laborious. The rugs in this room alone were an expensive extravagance.

And the quilted bedding! She could hardly believe the quality of the down quilt. The blue cover was made of imported flax, the dye was rich, the silk embroidery a work of art.

There were several fine wool blankets underneath, soft as clouds, and soft flax sheets in a natural, undyed cream shade.

The queen would be lucky to have such a bed. It made the carefully mended bedding Ashi had brought seem shabby.

She'd had no idea what to expect here. For all she knew, she'd be sleeping in an unheated shack. She'd dared to hope there'd be a pile of hay to protect her from a dirt floor. Just in case, she'd brought every blanket she owned. She would have hunted for cast off blankets as well, but she'd been confined to her room under guard for two days.

There'd been no warning. She'd been supervising the cleaning of the winter palace storeroom when the king's steward came with two guards to read the marriage proclamation to her. Covered in dust and spilled flour, she'd stood there numbly as she'd been informed she was to marry a goblin general.

No mention was made of the general's age. That was for the best. She might have been suicidal at that point.

She'd had a maid assigned to her, just in case. There'd been a parade of maids and dressmakers, in fact. She'd been beautified, polished and admonished, her trunks packed by others. She hadn't even looked through the trunks, she'd been so numb.

Even if she'd been able to escape, there was nowhere to hide. The king would have turned the city upside down to find her. Now that he'd had need of her, there was nowhere to run.

Ranna poured tea from a tiny iron pot, interrupting her reverie. "This will help you sleep."

“Thank you.” The tea was very sweet, probably to hide the bitterness; well, it was medicine. She could use some sleep. She'd tossed and turned the night before. She knew from experience that exhaustion wouldn't guarantee she'd sleep well tonight, either.

Sadly, she didn't rest. The feather pillows and smooth woven sheets didn't help a bit. In fact, it was one of the worst nights of her life. Dreams of formless nightmares attacked her all night long. She woke in a sweat, only to be dragged back down, unable to fully wake.