The King could not wait, and Kuthen's messengers were at once sent back to Moldavia, laden with presents, and bearing the welcome news that King Béla was willing to receive the Black Kunok on the terms offered. The White Kunok of Moldavia already acknowledged the Hungarian king as their sovereign. Kuthen lost no time in setting out with his people, and Béla, in the warmth of his heart, determined to give him a magnificent reception. He would receive him as a king should be received, whose power and dominions had been till lately at least equal to his own; he would receive him as if he were one of his most powerful neighbours; he would receive him as a brother. Béla cared little for pomp and show on his own account, and the splendour of his train on this occasion was all the more striking. Never had such a sight been seen in Hungary before as when, one morning in early summer, the King rode out to the wide plain where he was to receive his guests. Before him went sixty men on horseback, clad in scarlet, all ablaze with gold and silver, wearing caps of bearskin or wolfskin, and producing wild and wonderful music from trumpets, pipes, and copper drums. After them came the King in a purple mantle over a long white "dolmány," which sparkled with precious stones and was covered in front by a silver breast-plate. Right and left of him rode a bishop in full canonicals and bearing each his crozier. These were followed by some two hundred of the more prominent nobles, among whom were Paul Héderváry, Master Peter, and his brother Stephen, and the latter's son Akos, who, as already mentioned, was attached to the King's household. The rear was brought up by soldiers armed with bows, all mounted like the rest. Truly it was an imposing spectacle, as Master Peter admitted when he afterwards described it to Dora; but it afforded him little satisfaction. No sooner was the army of bowmen drawn up in order than the war-song of the advancing Kunok was to be heard. On they came, Kuthen and all his family on horseback, his retinue, and his army which followed him at a respectful distance, part mounted, part on foot, and behind these again a long thick cloud of dust. The pilgrims did not present a grand appearance. They looked as those look who have come through many toils and dangers; but the King was not without a certain pathetic dignity of his own, in spite of his somewhat Mongolian features, slanting eyes, low, retreating forehead, and long beard, already slightly touched with grey. He looked like a man who had suffered, was suffering rather, and who could not forget his old home, with its boundless plains, its vast flocks and herds, and its free open-air life; but he looked also like a man who knew what it was to be strong and powerful.