Attila the Hun was sacking Milan with his hordes in the fifth century when a painting caught his eye. It showed Huns lying dead at the feet of a Roman emperor. Attila, ever the problem solver, ordered it repainted so that he was on the throne and the Roman leaders were giving him sacks of gold.

Christopher Kelly does a similar thing in “The End of Empire.” The University of Cambridge professor paints a new picture of Attila the Hun over the enduring popular image of him as a barbarian hellbent on slaughter.

Certainly, Attila was merciless. He likely had his older brother killed in pursuit of power and his Huns left death and destruction in their path. Kelly does not shy away from demonstrating that Attila was a brutal man in a brutal time. But, more interestingly, he shows Attila as a “surprisingly civilized and a dangerously shrewd player of international politics.”

The word “international” in this case refers to the Roman Empire and the people on its frontiers, such as the Goths, the Vandals and the Franks. Attila operated from the Great Hungarian Plain at a time when the empire was past its glory days and was split into two halves ruled from modern Italy and from Constantinople.

Attila played on this political division, and on the fact that the vast frontiers were a constant headache for the empire to manage. Simply put, the empire could not afford to antagonize too many neighbors at once. Attila thrived in this atmosphere, negotiating with the Romans, then fighting them, then demanding gold from the imperial vaults. Attila became adept at outfoxing the Romans. Tellingly, the Hun’s glory days were numbered once Attila died. (The scourge of the Roman Empire seems to have choked to death during a drunken stupor on a nosebleed.)

A big problem for historians writing about Attila is that the Huns did not leave written records. Scholars have been forced to rely on Roman accounts, with predictable results. Kelly leans heavily on an admirably open-minded Roman scholar named Priscus, who dined with Attila at his headquarters during a doomed diplomatic mission.

Still, there are plenty of gaps in the knowledge. Kelly is constantly writing that Attila “likely” or “no doubt” did this or that, but the author is careful with his leaps and they keep the narrative humming. The material here can be heavy, but Kelly has a nice touch, as when he calls the Hun empire “a protection racket on a grand scale.”