“My lord.” The voice made Jon glance back in surprise. Samwell Tarly was on his feet. The fat boy wiped his sweaty palms against his tunic. “Might I . . . might I go as well? To say my words at this heart tree?” “Does House Tarly keep the old gods too?” Mormont asked. “No, my lord,” Sam replied in a thin, nervous voice. The high officers frightened him, Jon knew, the Old Bear most of all. “I was named in the light of the Seven at the sept on Horn Hill, as my father was, and his father, and all the Tarlys for a thousand years.” “Why would you forsake the gods of your father and your House?” wondered Ser Jaremy Rykker. “The Night’s Watch is my House now,” Sam said. “The Seven have never answered my prayers. Perhaps the old gods will.”
Book:A Game of Thrones