The blood stirred faintly in Cosimo's cheeks.
“Those fiefs were conferred upon me by our late lord, Duke Pier Luigi,” he replied.
Gonzaga spoke. “The confiscations effected by the late usurping Duke, and the awards made out of such confiscations, have been cancelled by Imperial decree. All lands so confiscated are by this decree revertible to their original holders upon their taking oath of allegiance to Caesar.”
Cosimo continued to smile. “This is no matter of a confiscation effected by Duke Pier Luigi,” he said. “The confiscation and my own investiture in the confiscated fiefs are a consequence of Agostino d'Anguissola's recreancy—at least, it is in such terms that my investiture is expressly announced in the papal bull that has been granted me and in the brief which lies before your excellency. Nor was such express announcement necessary, for since I was next heir after Ser Agostino to the Tyranny of Mondolfo, it follows that upon his being outlawed and his life forfeit I enter upon my succession.”
Here, thought I, were we finally checkmated. But Galeotto showed no sign of defeat.
“Where is this bull you speak of?” he demanded, as though he were the judge himself.
Cosimo haughtily looked past him at Gonzaga. “Does your excellency ask to see it?”
“Assuredly,” said Gonzaga shortly. “I may not take your word for its existence.”
Cosimo plucked a parchment from the breast of his brown satin doublet, unfolded it, and advanced to lay it before Gonzaga, so that he stood near Galeotto—not more than an arm's length between them.
The Governor conned it; then passed it to Galeotto. “It seems in order,” he said.