New archaeological discoveries and advances in the decipherment of ancient glyphs from Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, and Honduras have refined what we know about Maya dynastic rulership. In the sixth and seventh centuries, one particular dynasty gained influence over an unprecedented number of neighboring city-states. Yet these kings, known as the Snakes (the Kaanuls in their own language), failed to build an empire. In Blood on the Wind, James Fitzsimmons asks why they fell short. Fitzsimmons narrates in a register that draws non-specialists into the story. By simplifying the names of rulers (Jalam instead of Ixwak Chan Jalam Ajaw Lem) and emphasizing the human side of the protagonists’ lives (for example, inferring that one lord resented another or was starstruck by a Kaanul), Fitzsimmons presents a relatable version of otherwise obscure events. Furthermore, extensive front matter (lists of dramatis personae, cities, and rivalries, a socio-politics prologue, and a timeline) equips the uninitiated with a scaffolding to fall back on.

Most of the book chronicles the rise and demise of the Snakes and their allies, what Fitzsimmons calls the Kaan League. Snake kings built their first capital at the massive city of Dzibanche in the fifth century. Dzibanche and its allies cooperated politically and militarily, forming a loosely integrated coalition. Civil war shifted the seat of Kaanul power from Dzibanche to gigantic Calakmul in the 630s and ushered in the 50-year reign of the most powerful Maya king, Yuknoom the Great. Yuknoom’s gift, Fitzsimmons argues, was his ability to get proud, god-like kings to accept subordination to the Snakes and stomach the dishonor that comes with subservience. In a fashion reminiscent of contemporary loyalty-obsessed autocrats, Yuknoom cultivated allegiance by offering gifts, brides, and the stone age equivalent of photo-ops.

The Kaan League’s major rival was Tikal, and Fitzsimmons discusses the remarkable story of Bajlaj, a disaffected Tikal prince who established an upstart kingdom at Dos Pilas. Bajlaj lost battles to both the Kaan League and to his half-brother, the king of Tikal, twice sending him into exile. Bajlaj eventually accepted subordination to the Kaan League, which then helped him get revenge on Tikal. Fitzsimmons also elaborates the story of Bajlaj’s daughter, Jalam, who married the king of another Kaan client and eventually became a powerful and well-respected ruler in her own right. The final major player in Fitzsimmons’ narrative is Jasaw, the estranged nephew of Bajlaj/cousin of Jalam, and resurgent king of Tikal who shattered the Snakes in battle in 695 and forever reduced the power of the Kaan League.

Though royal intrigue comprises the main itinerary in this book, Fitzsimmons takes several well-researched detours that help flesh out a broader picture of Maya society and worldview in the sixth through eighth centuries. He discusses the titles and positions held by secondary leaders, the use of feasting as a political lubricant, the fortifications that the Maya sometimes built, and the different kinds of war they waged. He delves into ancient Maya economies, presenting details on marketplaces, artisans, long-distance trade, and the increasingly blurry boundaries between production of prestige goods and subsistence goods. Foreshadowing the difficulties of creating imperial control, Fitzsimmons presents rulers as detached from and minimally able to control their subjects. He writes that “commoners would have wanted nothing to do with the League” (p. 83). Despite this cynicism, Fitzsimmons sees ideology and religion as deeply influential. He describes the holy essence that is rich in the blood of kings and the blood and incense that humans earnestly burn as offerings to the gods, who consume the smoke. These two principles plus the violent battles between rivals comprise the triple entendre of the book’s title, Blood on the Wind.

Why, in the end, did the Snakes fail to create an empire? Fitzsimmons’ short answer is that Yuknoom the Great’s successor was not as skilled in subordinating his allies. At a deeper level, the Snakes did not create a stable bureaucracy and never even had clear control over their own economies. In the absence of competent civil servants and lacking an official system that clearly stipulated the rights and responsibilities of subordinate allies, personal relations between rulers held the League together. This meant that the accession of a new League leader necessitated re-negotiation not just of the pecking order among royal houses but also of the basic economic and social concessions between the new ruler and powerful factions within the home realm. Fitzsimmons’ view of the instability of governance is appreciably nuanced. He recognizes that, while sometimes autocratic, Maya rulers owed their positions to complex networks of lesser leaders and constituents. At the same time, traces of a “great (hu)man” view of history linger. Fitzsimmons writes that “the choices these three people [Bajlaj, Jalam, and Jasaw,] made, as well as the Kaan reactions to those choices, ruined the League and destroyed any possibility of an empire for the ancient Maya” (p. 10).

Pedants might say Fitzsimmons should have engaged more with broader literature on sovereignty and empire. If, in an imaginary world, the Snakes did create an empire, it would have been small, incorporating only the southern and central lowlands and failing to include in any meaningful way the literally millions of Maya people from the northern lowlands, the highlands to the south, and the eastern and western fringes. In any event, this is an excellent book. Fitzsimmons synthesizes all the latest data and weaves them into a story that should not only entertain and enlighten readers from a wide variety of backgrounds but also allow for uncanny connections to our contemporary world.