The graveyard was dark and cold. Vikram grabbed the corpse off a gnarled branch of the peepal tree and put it on his shoulder. It had been many months but he kept his promise and began his lonely march back to the camp where his soldiers waited for him. But he knew that it wouldn’t be silent for very long.
A minute or so later the vampire needled him. “Vikrama, I’ve heard that you’re a righteous king. But why do you do this? Does the hermit have a hold over you? Are you feeling guilty about something that you did to him? Is that why you come month after month? Let me tell you the story of a guilty king.”
The vampire began the story.
