"No," smiled Visconti. "But had they not, I had done it for them, as I will burn Mantua, and the Gonzagas in it. We will have no seditious spots in the Lombardy I rule. There will be one capital and one ruler," he added sternly. "The d'Estes knew enough to anticipate it."
De Lana was silent.
"And these prisoners, my lord?" asked da Ribera. "What of them?"
"They choke the camp," said another.
"They are partisans of Mastino della Scala, naturally," said Visconti. It was the first time the name had been mentioned, and Visconti's eyes flared to see that there was silence at it.
"Mastino della Scala, I said—they favored him."
"Yes, my lord; him, or the Estes."
"You will put them to the sword."
"All?"
"All!" shouted Visconti, half rising. "I will have no rebellious slaves to groan over Della Scala's grave, and hatch me plots from the ashes of their bones—we will raze the cities to the ground, and put them to the sword. My triumph will need no prisoners to prove it—and see it done, de Lana."