Frederick’s greatest anxiety was that peace and quiet should prevail in the Empire during his absence. To secure this he destroyed many more of the robber barons’ castles while on the march, and issued an order that no one should begin hostile operations without giving three days’ notice. Henry the Lion was banished three years longer and submitted to the penalty. The expedition set out in imposing array for Regensburg,[21] April 23, 1189, the festival of Saint George. Whitsuntide was celebrated at Presburg[22] and in front of Gran[23] the army awaited the arrival of the Hungarian King with his brilliant following. The Emperor reviewed his army before the city of Belgrade on the Hungarian frontier, and found he had about fifty thousand knights and an equal number of warriors of lower grades. Encouraged anew by fortune, which thus far had been so favorable, and relying upon the great strength of his army, Frederick prepared to lead his pilgrims to the Holy Land, confident that he would wrest it from the infidels this time and permanently restore it to the Christians. We behold the Emperor Frederick seated in his tent in camp at Belgrade, with the most famous of his princes and those leaders of his army who were in his closest confidence. Among them is Conrad of Feuchtwangen, whose sons Raymond and Conrad are standing at a respectful distance, awaiting the Emperor’s orders. Owing to the Emperor’s affection for their father they have had the good fortune to be selected as his pages. After earnestly discussing the objects of the expedition and the best means of securing them, they begin to talk of the assistance they might expect from their allies. “Let us wait,” said the Emperor, “until our messengers return, and we learn what Isaac proposes to do.” “Do you not fear, your Majesty, that he will violate his word?” asked the Bishop of Mayence. “What has happened once, or a thousand times, of course may happen now. But it seems to me our messengers will know definitely when they return.” “We shall know for certain if they bring no message of peace.” “In that case they would hurry back, I think, for that would clearly be their duty. I suspect the Greeks will prove faithless.” “It is almost certain,” said the Bishop of Passau. “Greeks cannot keep faith.” “It is not yet absolutely certain,” replied the Emperor, “and we must do nothing rashly. Still, I confess I am not over hopeful, for, alas, too often has the hatred between the members of the two Churches manifested itself and brought harm to both.” “Then let us attack at once,” cried the young Duke of Swabia, Frederick’s second son. “Let us fall upon them like a thunderbolt out of the clear sky, before they can make their preparations to help the Turks.” “Gently, my dear son,” said the Emperor. “You are carried away by excitement. We can do nothing until we have actual proof of their perfidy. Your ungovernable zeal would make an enemy of our ally if he were not one already.”