Erak turned swiftly to the two of them, gesturing them back into the cover of the rocks behind their campsite. "Quick you two! That's Morgarath himself on the white horse! Nordel, Horak, move into the light to screen them!"

Will felt his breath catch in his throat. Morgarath… He was shaking with fear, but he steered himself so that Evanlyn was behind him, shielded from harm. Staying low, the two scrambled to the safety of the rocks, behind the two burly Skandians, pressing themselves low into the dusty ground.

The jingle of harnesses came closer, along with the chink of weapons and hooves, almost muffled by the chant of the bloodthirsty wargals. Will slowly removed his cloak, steadily wrapping it around Evanlyns shoulders as a plan formed. It was the stupidest idea he had ever had, but also the bravest, the idea which might save so many lives.

He looked Evanlyn in the eye as the clopping of hooves came closer. "Run." He told her. "Run like hell, you'll know when." Her bright emerald eyes widened in fear, but he tried to give her a re-assuring smile as he scanned the campsite.

A horse came to a stop in front of the crew of the wolfship. It was white, but not a pearly white, glossy coated battle horse, such as a gallant knight might ride, but a pale horse ,without sheen or life to it. It's fur was dead white and its eyes were wild and rolling. He couldn't see much of the rider from his vantage point, only a set of legs and a glove, clad in jet black armour that glinted dangerously in the half-light from the fire.

"We thought we'd join your forces at Three Step Pass, my lord," Erak was saying. "I assume you will still go on with your attack, even though the bridge is down."

Morgarath swore horribly at the mention of the bridge. Sensing his fury, Will felt a swell of satisfaction, but he tuned out the conversation.

The bow was on the other side of the fireplace, next to a quiver of a few arrows. Most were splintered, but there were a few that were usable, not that it mattered. He would only get one chance at it anyway. The Skandians, in all their hurry to hide the two hostages from Morgarath, had left it unguarded.

He scrambled into a crouch and tensed his legs to run. He stole one last glance at Evanlyn beside him, and saw her expression change from confusion to horror as she realised his plan. He gave a weak smile and gripped her arm firmly. "Ready to run?" He whispered, and she gave a determined nod, the ranger cloak blurring her outline. Will felt strange not wearing it.

There was a lull in the conversation and Will took the opportunity. With an almighty shove of Evanlyn in the opposite direction, he leapt out from his cover, his hand closing around the throat of the bow and whipping an arrow from the quiver. There was a shout, and time seemed to crawl to a halt.

He closed his fingers around the calloused grain of the bow, and drew back his hand, the fletching of the arrow tickling his cheek. He had no armguard, but this was a one time shot.

He calmed his breathing, spinning from his crouch to a standing position. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evanlyn running out of sight, unnoticed by the Skandians and wargals barreling towards the rangers apprentice.

With an echoing twang, he released the arrow, and there was a thud. The whole army seemed to stop.

Morgarath, lord of the mountains of rain and night, toppled from his horse, an arrow protruding through his neck.

It was a truly blessed shot. It had caught him in the tiny chink in his armour, where the chin and the neck meet, spearing his windpipe and killing him instantly as it entered the brain.

Will dropped the bow as the Skandians turned to look at him, complete shock registering on their rugged faces. The young apprentice stood calmly, accepting his fate.

There was an almighty roar as the wargals, spurred into a bloodlust by the death of their leader, rushed up the hill in one murderous swarm, their piggy red eyes fixed on Will No-Name.