Carrick turned to face the boy once more, a sly and secretive glow in his eyes. "Don't worry. We'll be taking care of that very soon. You won't want for attention of that nature while you're in my possession."
He glanced outside again. Still no handler. Oh well. With a movement too quick for the eye to follow, he span lightly and kicked out, his bootheel connecting with the wooden slat directly above the padlock that kept the cage of the pen shut. It splintered under the force, leaving a gap wide enough to push his hand through. With the strength of a vampiric elder he grasped the loop of steel at the top of the padlock and yanked it open.
"My name's Lord Carrick," he said idly as he tossed the now-useless lump of metal to the ground and pushed open the door of the pen. "Stay where you are. I'll speak to the auctioneer and agree a price for you."
He walked away without a thought for the broken door he was leaving behind him. He was sure the auctioneer could be talked around with an extra billfold added to the cost of the slaveboy.