He looks in horror at the wreckage of this small village. Not two days ago, he had stopped here for food, and had congratulated the young lady on her coming wedding. Now, he stares at the burnt buildings, the hewn bodies of the entire village, their wedding finery bloody. Numb, he orders his men to look for survivors. There are none. They set to work digging the graves, and the captain himself lays the murdered bride in hers. No marriage bed for this lass; she is buried now in her wedding gown and lost forever.
Mordor will pay for this.