Difference between revisions of "Logs:Healer Inquest: K'del"

It was only after the inquest was convened that requests were sent out to relevant parties to appear for interview. Pity the foo-- er, person who had to arrange the schedule. "Welcome, Weyrleader," Tanwen has a thin but not unkind smile for the man at the table facing the larger one at which the assembled healers sit. "We'd like to thank you for making the time." She must be aware of how valuable that time is because she makes the review of their purpose here brief and then begins simply with, "Would you tell us your position on the actions of Journeyman Miska and any relevant interactions you had with him during the time period in question?"

That K'del is taking this whole exercise seriously is obvious; he's dressed formally, in dress leathers, and his expression is serious to the point of solemnity as he takes his place in the meeting room. Hands resting in his lap, he inclines his head forward in answer to Tanwen, blue eyes taking in the room before he ventures to speak. "I've not spoken to the Journeyman," he answers, carefully. "Not over this. The whole situation was... is disturbing to me. Dragonriders have always been given the opportunity to join their lifemates, in situations like these. It's... got the greatest respect for your craft, don't get me wrong. But his actions made me deeply uncomfortable."

Setephon is here at this table, as he's been. He'd asked to stay out of most of the actual interviewing process, but there comes a point when there needs to be some division of labour. The man's eyebrows are held in a sympathetic expression, brow perhaps even troubled as High Reaches' weyrleader speaks. And when he takes his turn, it's following a gentle smile, and with a soft and calm voice. "In what way, then," with eyes darting to the page before him, and then back to the weyrleader, "were you kept apprised of the journeyman's ongoing handling of the situation?" No offense taken, it seems.

"Word travels, in a Weyr," answers K'del. "As anywhere, I expect." It's plain, though, that the question has given him pause; he licks his lips, cautiously, before sanything anything further. "Made it my business to keep up, as time went on. Through others. Crafters - the infirmary in specific - aren't under my purview, but that's not to say I don't... pay attention. Teris was a friend of mine, once; won't deny that the situation took me hard."

Tanwen is not the least bit accusatory when she clarifies, "So you took no action on behalf of your Weyr to attempt to alter Journeyman Miska's planned treatment?" There's definitely an unspoken 'Why?' that comes along with it, but perhaps, not being a crafter and subjected to oral exams where there is always a 'why,' K'del won't notice?

A pause. "No," says K'del. That his answer makes him uncomfortable is obvious; his gaze lifts towards the ceiling, focusing there for several long seconds before he can bring himself to look back at the assembled healers. He may not have noticed the 'why;' when he speaks again, it seems rather more reflective and thoughtful than explanatory. "Know Prinavi, who had jurisdiction over Teris, tried and failed. Know others tried. Does the Weyr have authority over the healers posted there? Can't imagine you wouldn't be quick to argue if I attempted to interfere in any other kind of treatment."

Setephon sends a sidelong look to his colleague as she questions, lifting both hands to fold them together, neatly, overtop of his notepad. He's barley touched his stylus so far; if the previous interviews were anything to go by, he'll do little of that throughout. "Though not under your purview, did any of the healers other than journeyman Miska approach you? Apprentices, journeymen..." his head shakes, but not in negation; it's a means of allowing that list to be all-encompassing of anyone. "Or did you get any sense of unease, on their parts, with the journeyman's actions?"

Again: "No." K'del sucks his lips in, looking for a moment as though he has been sucking on a lemon. "Haven't had any communication with the other healers, not at the time, and not really since. It's entirely possible there was unease, but..." he shakes his head. "Can't do more than speculate, and that's no use to anyone."

Tanwen really doesn't mean any of these questions as accusations, she's just clarifying, "So you didn't see Weyrwoman Teris while she was in Journeyman Miska's care?"

"No." K'del's voice is quiet; regret, perhaps? Sorrow?

Setephon makes a face like he's trying to suck something out from between his canine teeth, at that next question. Theres a solemn nod, for the weyrleader's response. The master leans back and closes his eyes, thoughtful, though only for a moment - hopefully not so long as to make that poor weyrleader the more uncomfortable. "Did you instruct any of your riders - those who are under your purview - to deliver the mercy draught to Teris while she was under journeyman Miska's supervision?"

Unseen, beneath the lip of the table, K'del wraps the fingers of one hand around the other, squeezing. Those pale blue eyes of his turn directly towards Setephon, but only after the healer has asked his question; they linger, and then, finally, he says, "No. I made no instruction."

It's a switch from Tanwen's previous questions when she asks, simply, "You've touched on your feelings that Weyrwoman Teris was denied a choice she should have had." She glances to her fellow healers before saying, "Would you mind explaining to us about that? None of us are riders." She leaves out that Journeywoman Madilla seemed to think they would benefit from such an education.

The shift seems to surprise K'del, who hesitates, gaze swinging immediately back towards Tanwen. "It's not the easiest thing to explain," he admits. "Just... when a rider dies, their dragon always suicides. Always. A rider may choose to survive their dragon, but it's not a choice many take. Didn't that boy at Fort do it, just recently? They were only together a little while, weeks, and he still couldn't bring himself to live without him, in the end. They're part of you; it's irrevocable." He hesitates. Then, "It's understood, in a Weyr, that a rider will have that option. No rider would deny it to another."

The nod Setephon gives is one that suggests a familiarity with this, if not, certainly, any sort of personal understanding. He brings his hands up, still folded, to rest against his chin, and gazes over his knuckles at the dragonman seated before them. Finally, that gaze turns over to Tanwen, as the primary, and from there, all the others present. He, at least, has nothing more.

It is then that Caiketo speaks up, the old man rather quiet for this interview than others. Perhaps Tanwen has finally managed to reign in her father-in-law, but then, perhaps not when his question is a low, raspy, "You do not believe there are any circumstances then, Weyrleader, where a rider should not be given the choice? If the rider was heavily pregnant?" A pause, before he adds, "If a rider were not of their right mind for other reasons? Such as brain injury?"

"No, sir, I don't." K'del presses both hands flat upon the top of the table, and shrugs. "It's not beyond the realms of possibility that a woman might choose to remain long enough to give birth, in that first case; but it would be her choice to do so." And for the latter? "A person already not in their right mind would stand even less chance than any other in managing without. No, sir. A person's body is their own; it's their choice to make, not yours, not mine, not anyone else's."